On The Right Track

A Tough Workout

Things are going along really well right now and I hope it continues on this track!  Speaking of, we had track again this Thursday at the cinder oval behind South High School. I made it on time for the session and joined the team (about twenty of us) for a few initial  drills that develop form and fleetness. “High knees”, “Crossovers”, “Striders”-these exercises get the blood moving and joints flexing for the challenges ahead. The team then split into smaller groups for more personalized workouts. My task for the night was to run what is called a reverse ladder. It starts with a mile (four laps around the track) at my 5k (3.1 miles) pace-far faster than I’d be running at the marathon. After that fast mile, it would be one lap of slow recovery followed by a half-mile run at a slightly faster than pace than the mile pace. The distances continued to get shorter and the pace continued to get faster for both the active and recovery phases until the final half-lap which was run very quickly-almost sprinting. Coach Greg offered this workout to help us find our personal racing threshold and to demonstrate how fast we can still run despite tired legs and lungs. Altogether tiring, but very satisfying. The next day I had some soreness in muscles I’d been using regularly but not with the intensity that I used on the track. The final part of the night’s training included some hill workouts, strength training, and stretching that devolved into joking and socializing-just the right chaser to a good dose of mutual suffering.

A Team In Training Insider

Ashley Merritt Completes Her First TNT Event

The First Guest Blogger

Ashley Merritt is the Campaign Manager for Team In Training-Rocky Mountain Chapter. I asked her to fill you in on what Team In Training (TNT) is all about-the history and the present look of the program. She was more than happy to provide some details about the remarkable success TNT has had over the past 20-plus years:

Team In Training®— A Brief Overview

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team In Training program (TNT) is the world’s first, largest and best charity sports training program.. Since 1988, when the first team of TNT marathoners was formed, the program has helped 389,000 people—more than 40,000 participants annually—achieve their dream of completing a marathon, half marathon, triathlon, 100-mile (century) bicycle ride or hike adventure. And, since its inception, TNT participants have raised over $950 million on behalf of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS).

Applauded for its success in inspiring thousands of Americans to improve their health and fitness, the national program is currently sponsored by presenting sponsors Nike, Runner’s World and P.F. Chang’s China Bistro. Since 1993, Marty Liquori has served as the National Chairman of Team In Training. Mr. Liquori is a former Olympic athlete and world-class runner who ranked No. 1 in the world in the mile and 1,500-meter events. Ironically, a few months after assuming the role of National Chairman, Mr. Liquori was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL). Today, he is a cancer survivor.

Team In Training participants come from all walks of life—from novice to seasoned athlete. Many begin their athletic journey as “couch potatoes” who want to get in shape, triumph over a challenge and meet other motivated people. Some dedicate their time and energy in honor of a friend or loved one who has had blood cancer. Still others are cancer survivors who want to prove that they have the physical and mental stamina to finish a 26.2-mile marathon, 13.1-mile half marathon, triathlon, 100-mile century ride or hike adventure.

Team In Training provides participants with the fitness training and group support needed to succeed.  Participants get to meet new people and achieve a personal fitness goal, and they feel great about making a difference in the lives of others. Training is comprehensive. The average TNT participant covers 600 miles while training and burns 60,000 calories, which is equivalent to a 17-pound weight loss. Over the years, our athletes have logged more than 90 million miles during training. For four to five months, the athletes train with certified coaches who prepare them for their specific event. They attend local workshops on nutrition, technique, injury prevention, event day strategy, fundraising skills, and they build friendships with others on their team. Members receive guidance from the TNT Mentor Program, which matches them with past TNT participants who share their training, fundraising and event day experiences.

Cheering them along, from training to competition, is a group of special motivators known as Honored Teammates, local blood cancer patients. TNT members often say their greatest inspiration and motivation comes from the Honored Teammates, who themselves face even greater challenges. Early in the program participants are given wristbands identifying their honored teammates, which they continue to wear throughout their training.

TNT certified coaches help participants achieve optimal performance based on their personal goals and abilities. In return for four to five months of intensive, group training, TNT racers agree to raise money to help LLS meet its mission to cure leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease and myeloma, and improve the quality of life of patients and their families. LLS provides participants the various tools, strategies and support needed to attain their fundraising goals.

TNT members choose from among more than 60 accredited events in the United States and abroad. Some of the most popular destinations include The Nike Women’s Marathon: A race to benefit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, in San Francisco; the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon® in San Diego, CA; Bank of America Chicago Marathon; Marine Corps Marathon in Washington D.C.; the Honolulu Marathonâ; St. Anthony’s Triathlon in St. Petersburg, FL.; The Nation’s Triathlon to benefit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society; America’s Most Beautiful Bike Ride in Lake Tahoe, NV; Yosemite National Park hike; the Grand Canyon hike; and many others.

A Brutal Ride

Fire in the Park

Ben and I met on a cool, cloudy afternoon, a relief this time of year from the hot temperatures that generally persist. We’d come because I wanted to explore the trails at Mount Falcon Park, a tract of Ponderosa-covered foothills laced by a network of multi-use trails for hikers, runners, cyclists, and equestrians. We had our bikes today. After a few minutes in the parking lot affixing tires, checking mechanics, and applying sunscreen, we saddled our rides-metal cowboys in the new West. The trail starts out with a serious climb, over-1600- feet-serious! It was absolutely brutal, but Ben made it look easy. He’d ridden the trail before and had just finished an adventure race last weekend, biking, running, navigating, and paddling through Summit County with his niece, Alexis. I had a few things working against me. First, it had been a while since I’d been on the bike. Muscles I hadn’t called on in weeks let me know they weren’t happy. “You could have started a little easier!” they screamed. Another problem was the bike. I was on a 12-year-old bike designed for the rolling terrain of the Midwest instead of the punishing ups and downs of the Rockies. When I took it into the bike shop about nine years ago, the mechanic was awed by the “vintage ride”. I compared the climb to trying to drive in a flat head screw with a Phillips head screwdriver. You can get it done, but its the wrong tool for the job. Without clipless pedals, I spent the climb with only one foot engaged and lost a substantial amount of power and control. The process required more exertion with less efficiency, a double hit that left sweat pouring down my face, legs burning from strain, and lungs gasping for breath.

Ponderosa Pine Trees

Once the climb finished we had miles of easy loop trails to explore with views of the plains below. We rode through an old wildfire burn, noting the fire-scarred trunks of the Ponderosa Pines. The tree is adapted to frequent burns. It has thick, fire-resistant bark that protects the inner layers of the tree (it also smells like vanilla). Ponderosas shed their lower limbs as they grows so fire has a difficult time reaching the needles in the crown. In addition, in a healthy stand of Ponderosas, the trees are widely spaced, a park-like savanna that keeps fires burning through the grasses of the undergrowth at low intensity. Over the last 100 years, a fire-suppression policy by land managers has caused overgrowth in some areas of the West, resulting in hotter and larger fires that damage the forest beyond its natural resiliency. Recently, agencies like the United States Forest Service have tried to correct the problem, removing excess trees and allowing fires to burn more frequently as long as life and property are not threatened.

The finish to our ride was an exhilarating descent of the climb that had punished me on the way in. We concluded our ride just as the 9-to-5 crowd appeared to get in their evening recreation. As mountain bikers do, we couldn’t resist some talk about gear, riding, and info on other trails worth riding in the area. I’m fortunate to live in a place with an abundance of great trails and the option to ride sometimes instead of run.

A Night Out

Denver After Hours

Many of those who don’t run long distances ask how I get through the boredom of the activity. I rarely am bored on a run. Trails require enough attention to avoid the rocks, roots, and overgrowth that much of the focus lies in self-preservation. Other times, runs serve as a break from the routine or bustle of daily life, an opportunity to sort through the priorities and concerns I have and make choices. Tonight I ran into the city and found a rich sensory experience. I left the house after sunset, which comes late at this latitude during the height of summer. A storm was moving away in the east, the faintly illuminated clouds slowly receding, phantoms on the edge of perception. My planned route would take me along streets that were busy by day, filled with throngs of traffic and pedestrians hurrying to their varied destinations. At night, the streets were empty, the commuters long ago fleeing to their homes in the suburbs around Denver. Those still in the city this late are either urban dwellers or the laborers that work in unseen professions. Lights burning in a few of the windows of Downtown’s high-rises, along with streetlights and headlights hung suspended in the darkened sky, reflecting in dirty puddles upon the aging asphalt and concrete of the shiny, rain-soaked sidewalks.  I splashed through a deep depression. A siren wailed and echoed up the block, red and blue lights spinning. Steam poured from manhole covers and assorted gratings, clues to the subterranean actions underway below. The dome of the State Capitol loomed darkly, its halls of power empty, the legislators out of session. I ran into the urban canyons of the Central Business District. 16th street is only a pleasant run at night when fewer passers-by wander the mall to slow your progress and fewer automobiles require a stop at intersections. Here, there is always something to observe. In darkened alleyways the sour scent of refuse emanated from the leftovers of the day. A couple strolled past, walking close, laughing at a private exchange. A delivery truck idled on a corner, the dimly lit cab empty. A heavily laden shopping cart, brimming with plastic bags  stood alongside a wall with its owner sitting close by. The combined clamor of dozens of simultaneous conversations at an outside bar and restaurant rose up and faded as I ran by. A small group lingered in an entryway, a sense of menace present-perhaps just the night. Train wheels squealed metallically on tracks as the light rail began a late-night run from the station. Underfoot, slicked wood from the recent rains made for a treacherous bridge crossing. Intermittently-spaced lamp posts spilled modest pools of light upon the path through the park. Shadows guarded the unknown. The river surged through the dark with a determined flow. Up the hill and above the mortuary, a neon sign blazed brightly, signaling the final stretch towards home and when the latch of the gate clanged shut, the run was over.

Running at night is different. All the senses are heightened. It is mysterious, strange, and intimate. It is anything but boring.

The Vacation

Great Sand Dunes National Park & Preserve

Adventure In The San Juans

I’m back from a week on the road and want to get you caught up on my travels. Thanks for your patience while I was away.

My friends Kerry and Jason flew out from Wisconsin and met me in the high desert of Southwest Colorado for a road trip around the San Juan Skyway, a 433-mile loop of highways that corkscrews below 14,000-foot mountains to historic mountain towns, rugged national forests, and the ruins of past cultures. On my drive out to meet them in Durango, I stayed the night camped outside the Great Sand Dunes National Park & Preserve. This park protects one of the most surprising landscapes in North America. 750-foot sand dunes, the highest in the country, have formed and built through the milleniums in a pocket on the west side of the Sangre De Cristo (“Blood of Christ”) Mountains so named for the rich red hue of the snow-covered range at sunrise. I awoke before dawn to enter the dune field before the heat of the sun could deter me. My goal was to run in to the highest point in the dunes. By linking one sandy ridge to the next, I could navigate along until I made it to the 360-degree views atop Star Dune of the San Luis Valley beyond. By Colorado standards, this is not a difficult climb but the two-steps-forward-one-back cliche certainly applies. Back at the trailhead, I dumped the sand from my running shoes and sped to Durango to meet my companions.

The next day we visited Mesa Verde National Park to tour the ruins of the Ancestral Puebloan culture. The pinyon pine- and juniper-clad tablelands conceal ancient cliff dwellings and mesa-top sites where this civilization flourished 1000 years ago. That their structures continue to stand today is a testament to the engineering skill and inventiveness of these archaic builders. We settled at Ridgway State Park, our base camp for adventures in Telluride and Ouray over the following days. Our hike outside of Telluride the next day served as a warm-up and acclimatization day to steel ourselves for the biggest challenge of the trip: a summit attempt on 14,150-foot Mount Sneffels.

Mount Sneffels At Sunset

The sky was still dark when our alarms sounded, stirring us from our tents to boil oatmeal and fruit, fill water bottles, break camp, and double check necessary items like hedlamps and first aid supplies. The rough road to the trailhead climbed steeply out of the Victorian mountain town of Ouray, “The Switzerland of America”, and taxed the limits of my compact wagon over projections of stone and precipitous ledges. When it was clear the car could proceed no further (at the ghost town of Camp Bird) we disembarked and began walking. Not far along, a high-clearance 4WD came up. Inside, two Danes, a father and his ten-year-old, were gracious enough to drive us the rest of the way. We thanked them for their charity and set off, the trail quickly rising above the treeline while the sun slowly rose above the ridgeline. The day warmed as we plodded upward and we were happy to make stops to revel in the alpine landscape of the San Juans. The wildflowers at this elevation were at their peak bloom this time of summer and streamlets divided the expanse of tundra. The trail continued below a steep slope of scree-broken rocks tumbled from the cliffs above, and then ascended directly up one of these steep slopes. The altitude, steepness, loose soil, and risk of rockfall from parties above us slowed our ascent here, but steady diligence eventually brought us to the windswept saddle above. From here the route followed an even steeper couloir, the narrow alley filled at the top with a late-season snowfield. Realizing quickly that we lacked proper equipment to be successful higher on the route, we changed plans and followed the ridge up to a minor peak of the Sneffels Massif called Kismet. The summit afforded us a grand vista into the heart of the San Juans, countless peaks filling the horizon. Well worth the effort to get here but only halfway done… Our anticipation of the descent back down the steep, loose slopes gave us some concern but we discovered that with the proper stance and position relative to one another, we could shuffle down safely and expediently. Once we’d descended the scree slope we felt confident that we’d survived the day, six miles and 3500 feet of altitude gain now behind us. The long walk to our car was interrupted by a brief hailstorm and by happenstance a family of fellow Cheeseheads (Wisconsinites) passed by in their SUV and offered us a lift to our car, sheltered from the inclement weather outside. We gladly accepted and returned to civilization in no time.

Silverton, Colorado, my previous home for two years, hosted us for the night, and a dinner out followed by a morning in was just what we needed after the exertions of the day. We finished our trip in the region around Durango where day hikes on the mesas and mountains nearby and a morning of tubing on the Animas River satisfied our adventurous side while browsing through the downtown shops and restaurants provided a semblance of culture. Highlights included the Cajun Boil at Steamworks Brewery, the documentary Food, Inc. at the Abbey Theatre, afternoon ice cream, and evening campfires with popcorn. I was able to sneak in a few runs too, including a dawn run up the Elbert Creek Trail near Purgatory Ski Area on our last morning in the San Juans. The road back to Denver was long but recollections of a great week shared with friends helped the miles pass quickly (perhaps a bit too quickly if you ask the State Trooper that issued me a speeding warning on the road out of Alamosa).

Its good to be back.

Track Thursday

Turning It Over

We’ve transitioned to a new, more aggressive phase of our training for the marathon. In addition to long runs on Saturday we’ll be meeting on Thursday evening on the track behind South High School. Incorporating track workouts will elevate power, strength, and leg speed for the upcoming race. Coaches will also focus on form and position to ensure efficient movement and conserve energy. The track provides a flat, controlled setting for advanced training like this. I’ll be able to monitor my fitness against consistent distances. Today, I did striders to warm up: running fast on the straightaways of the track and slowing for recovery on the curves. I followed this with six laps at 95-second pace. After each lap at speed, I would sneak in a half-lap to recover. At first this sounded like a piece of cake, and the first couple laps were pretty easy, but I was grateful when the last lap finished, feeling fatigued from each successive lap. I had arrived late and most of the group had left, but both Coach Greg, Coach Rick, and another TNT participant, Kelli, were still there. We did some core work and push ups to finish the training. One of our teammates had arranged for a fundraiser at a local Noodles & Company and about a dozen of us met there to load in carbs with some delicious pasta and a bottle of New Belgium’s 1554.

Making the Mark

Another Big Thank You

We’ve reached my initial fundraising goal of $2500! Thank you to all of you who have supported my cause with donations. What at first seemed to be a challenging goal proved to be less so thanks to your graciousness and philanthropy. I received an email earlier today from the local chapter of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society that congratulated me on this achievement, and I’d like to direct most of that congratulations to you. If you have not yet contributed and would still like the opportunity to do so, you are certainly welcome to link to my fundraising page here. Though I have reached my personal fundraising goal, the ultimate objective of curing blood cancer still needs support. You have my sincerest compliments and thanks.

David

An Ankle Twister

Dakota Hogback, South Valley Park

South Valley Park

Voyaging west from the Mississippi River, travelers cross the Great Plains, a landscape characterized by pervasive and sweeping flatness. Through Iowa, Nebraska and eastern Colorado, the most significant elevation could generously be called a hill, and more reasonably termed a “rise”. Then, just to the west of Denver the Earth crumples, warps and folds dramatically into the Rocky Mountains, climbing to over 14,000 feet. The first minor rumpling that hints at the terrain beyond is a tilted outcrop that geologists call the Dakota Hogback. Millions of years ago layers of sandstone and shale were laid flat below ancient seas. After eons of laying peacefully, the Rocky Mountains lunged up from deep below the overlying layers of stone, punching up through these layers and bending them skyward. Imagine a clenched hand punching up through the bottom of an apple pie, the crusty layers being cracked and tilted upward. Those tilted crusts are synonymous with the layers that now make up the Dakota Hogback, just on a much larger scale. The tilted sandstone cliffs have sheltered life here for thousands of years. Early humans and Native-Americans used the southwest-facing cliffsides as a winter home where they could hunt elk, deer, and antelope through the harsh colder months. On this day, cliff swallows darting swiftly around there nests represented the local inhabitants. My five-and-a-half mile run started along the Coyote Song Trail that threaded its way through the sandstone outcrops and crossed the road to connect to the Grazing Elk Loop. To the west, the foothills rose sharply behind Lockheed-Martin’s glass and steel Deer Creek Facility, home of their Space System-Astronautics Operations Center. The tread of the trail here was a narrow furrow that made for difficult and risky footing, I tweaked my ankles on more than one occasion here, trying to find good ground, and I’d direct runners to spend their time elsewhere. The trail looped around a flat bench hooking around a few shallow fissures before crossing back over the road to finish on the smooth gravel of the Swallow Trail.

Our Cause

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society

I’m going to use today’s entry to share a bit more about the organization that I’m partnering with and that you’re supporting. In 1944, another child died of leukemia. His parents believed they could do something to keep so many from dying, 100% of those diagnosed at that time, and set out to change the inevitable outcome. Out of their conviction, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society  (LLS) began. The mission of the LLS is to cure leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease and myeloma, and improve the quality of life of patients and their families. They have set a timeline to end blood cancer by 2015 and are pursuing this goal aggressively. The organization supports research, patient financial aid, patient services, public and professional education, and community services. To date, over $600 million has been distributed by the LLS to fund research. This has led to advances in chemotherapies, bone marrow and stem cell transplantation, and oral therapies like Gleevec. Outside of funding research, the LLS  helps those newly diagnosed through their First Connection program to pair new patients with a peer volunteer that has received a similar diagnosis. When families begin down this course, there are many questions and concerns to address and the LLS makes a big difference in helping families understand and cope. The Society distributes information to patients, their families and healthcare providers so the best care is available to those in need. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society also campaigns for greater support from law-makers through their office of Public Policy.

The Team In Training Program (TNT) is the largest sports training program in the world. The goal is not only to raise funds for LLS, but also to promote fitness and healthy lifestyles. TNT has raised over $950 million since it began 20 years ago. The Program provides a four- to five-month training program for runners, walkers, cyclists, triathletes, and hikers. Participants work hard to prepare for their events and to raise money to support LLS. Each participant performs in honor or memory of a specific leukemia patient. As you know, I’m running in honor of my Dad who lost his life to leukemia last October. I’m convinced that both the Team In Training and Leukemia and Lymphoma Society are effective and professional programs that play a crucial  part in curing blood cancers. Thank you for supporting their important mission.

Tipperary Creek Ride

Columbine Along The Trail

Capital of Mountain Biking, USA

When Denver started growing in the late 1800’s its population demanded resources for construction and development, including a ready supply of timber. The Fraser Valley, 20 miles west and 4000 feet higher, on the western slope of the Front Range had an abundance of trees, and soon a rail line was constructed over 11,600-foot Rollins pass linking to a labyrinth of roads that extended into the long valleys and broad slopes around Fraser to extract and transport the valuable wood down to Denver. The boom subsided and the valley converted its economy to tourism, made famous for it fishing, hiking, and skiing. Winter Park Resort opened in the south end of the valley in 1939. The timber and mining roads from Winter Park’s early history are now left to mountain bikers-over 600 miles that have been signed and maintained, one of the largest networks anywhere. I’d been wanting to explore the trails for some time so my friend Jake and I set out to do just that this morning. We met in Idaho Springs, an old mining town along Interstate 70, Jake driving down from his home in Nederland and me coming up from Denver. We loaded up our bikes and wound our way over Berthoud Pass into Fraser Valley. The area is still some of the best scenery in the state but visitors to the valley will wonder about the vast numbers of trees  that appear brown and dead. Over the past decade an infestation of the mountain pine beetle has killed thousands of trees in the expansive lodgepole pine forest that covers the region. Despite the rusty color of the trees we found a splendid route up the Tipperary Creek trail, a length of surprisingly smooth singletrack that climbed about 1500 feet at a steady pitch through aspen groves and spruce forest. The climb had us sweating right from the start and we were glad to be up in the high country with cooler temperatures than those down in the plains and foothills. After the climb, the trail banked south, traversing above the valley for a couple miles before a quick, steep descent down Spruce Creek Trail to the road along St. Louis Creek. Another smooth, gradually descending trail brought us to a system of trails and jeep roads just outside the Winter Park ski area boundary. A few uphill sections along the way and a couple of wrong turns in the confusing and unfamiliar maze of trails sapped my energy, and the roots and rocks littering the trail seemed bigger, the roads seemed steeper, and the miles seemed longer at the ride continued. The final trail dropped us along the railroad tracks which we followed to the concrete Fraser Valley Bike Path and a couple miles of pedaling hard against the wind finally returned us to our starting point, five-and-a-half hours after we’d departed. We’d definitely earned the pizza and beer that we devoured at a local restaurant before the long road home.