Merry Christmas!
Did I run today? Yes.
It was a short one, though. It still hasn't gotten above 15 degrees since I got home.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Training Shift
The last two races I've done (the Golden Leaf and the Summit for Life, both in Aspen) have had several things in common. They both occurred in Aspen, on a Saturday. They both began, and in the case of the Summit for Life, occurred in its entirety, straight up a ski hill. Both went far better than I ever would have expected. And I didn't wear a watch for either of them.
For a long time, I was a bit of a slave to my watch. I used it to time my slow runs, my tempo runs, my intervals, even my fartleks. I paid more attention to what the numbers on my watch were saying than I did to my legs and the rest of my body. I would time each mile of a race, trying to make them consistent. And more often than not, I would start faster than I thought I would be able to run, and ended up slowing down quickly, psyching myself out that I couldn't run as fast as I was.
I didn't intend to run without my watch in either of the above races, I simply forgot to bring it along with me when I went to Aspen. And it worried me for the Golden Leaf. As it turns out, despite only a month or so of solid training, I only ran three minutes slower this fall than the year before that. I think that, had I looked at my watch on points up that first hill, I would have psyched myself out again, and slowed down thinking there was no way I could pull off a decent time. I didn't have a watch, so I couldn't look, and I ran a good time.
So now I'm trying a bit of an experiment. I'm no longer wearing my watch even to train. Rather I'm listening to what my legs are telling me, and trying to gauge my effort rather than my time. And in fact as I sit here in DIA, waiting to go home to the Great White North (northern Minnesota) for Christmas, I just realized that I once again did not even bring my watch with me.
So far, what this change of tactics has done is made me come up with different ways of getting the same results. I have a couple new styles of workouts at my disposal, and several modified versions of older workouts that will work without a watch. Hopefully, as I train and relax (yes, they go hand in hand for me) I will have the chance to describe some of them here.
Until then
For a long time, I was a bit of a slave to my watch. I used it to time my slow runs, my tempo runs, my intervals, even my fartleks. I paid more attention to what the numbers on my watch were saying than I did to my legs and the rest of my body. I would time each mile of a race, trying to make them consistent. And more often than not, I would start faster than I thought I would be able to run, and ended up slowing down quickly, psyching myself out that I couldn't run as fast as I was.
I didn't intend to run without my watch in either of the above races, I simply forgot to bring it along with me when I went to Aspen. And it worried me for the Golden Leaf. As it turns out, despite only a month or so of solid training, I only ran three minutes slower this fall than the year before that. I think that, had I looked at my watch on points up that first hill, I would have psyched myself out again, and slowed down thinking there was no way I could pull off a decent time. I didn't have a watch, so I couldn't look, and I ran a good time.
So now I'm trying a bit of an experiment. I'm no longer wearing my watch even to train. Rather I'm listening to what my legs are telling me, and trying to gauge my effort rather than my time. And in fact as I sit here in DIA, waiting to go home to the Great White North (northern Minnesota) for Christmas, I just realized that I once again did not even bring my watch with me.
So far, what this change of tactics has done is made me come up with different ways of getting the same results. I have a couple new styles of workouts at my disposal, and several modified versions of older workouts that will work without a watch. Hopefully, as I train and relax (yes, they go hand in hand for me) I will have the chance to describe some of them here.
Until then
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Almost Like Home
I woke up this morning to four inches of snow on my deck, and the snow still coming down pretty well. Took a look at the temperature: 1 degree F. While the pic above was not from this morning (I believe that was Tuesday last week), it captures some of the essence of what it looked like outside this morning.
My friend Jessica and I had planned on doing a Flagstaff run this morning, but with the snow and cold, that didn't seem likely, so we took to the creek path, along with seemingly every other runner out this morning.
It ended up being an absolutely fantastic run. We took it pretty slow, chatting and, yes, gossiping as runners inevitably will. Maybe I'll write a post about that some time. It seems to be a universal truth about runners. In any case, since the creek path is always the first area plowed in Boulder, seemingly every runner in Boulder was out on the path this morning.
And nobody else.
All the guys who had any sort of facial hair had a frosting of white around their mouths. My eyebrows kept freezing to my sunglasses (ouch). And everybody seemed to be having a fantastic time, shouting out hellos to anybody they did, or didn't, know. I love it when runners are happy, and they certainly were this morning.
That's a self-portrait following the run today. I haven't actually had the time to shave lately, since I've been so swamped with finish up my semester at CU. I'm kind of glad of it today, though. What would this post be without that picture?
Now, unfortunately, it's back to work. 1.5 exams down (I had a 3.5 hour monster yesterday) 0.5 exams and 1 final project to go . . . Wednesday can't come soon enough.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Results are up!
Results for the Summit for Life are up at their website.
For some reason, they still have me listed as having started 45 minutes earlier than I actually did (quite impressive, really). But, if you subtract 45 minutes from the time they give me, I end up in precisely 10th place, with a time of 59:50.
Obviously, they got it right for the team competition, otherwise there's no way we would have won . . .
For some reason, they still have me listed as having started 45 minutes earlier than I actually did (quite impressive, really). But, if you subtract 45 minutes from the time they give me, I end up in precisely 10th place, with a time of 59:50.
Obviously, they got it right for the team competition, otherwise there's no way we would have won . . .
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
The Winning Team
As promised, here's the winning team of the 2008 Summit for Life in Aspen. I'm still not sure what actual place I got, as there was some confusion with my time. Apparently they had me in the non-competitive wave at first, which added 45 minutes to my time. But they obviously got the time right in their results, as the overall team time was 2hr 57min. I do know, though, that Shanna placed second in the women's division and Lucas placed second overall, behind Rickey Gates and ahead of Bernie Boettcher.I'll post some pics of my run this morning later today. We got another 8" of snow last night.
Monday, December 8, 2008
A Successful Summit
I got into Aspen with no real trouble on the roads. There was a little ski traffic going up to the tunnels on I-70, but there was no real weather to speak of so it moved pretty well most of the time. I got to Aspen a bit past noon, and sat around at Shanna's doing homework (glad I got some of that in) until she got off work at four, when we headed off to check in and get our "shwag bags." Apparently this race is well sponsored, as you'll see later. The non-competitive race took off at 5:15, and we followed 45 minutes later. For those who might know some names, I had some heavy competition from names like Bernie Boettcher (who runs 50 races a year and wins many of them), Rickey Gates (US mountain running champion, 12th in the world), and Lucas Franz (all around athlete and fortunately my teammate).
I ended up wearing Kahtoola Microspikes, which are pretty much a heavy duty version of YakTrax (with chains and steel spikes on the bottoms instead of metal rings). It worked perfectly. The race goes straight up a groomed ski run, so I took poles and mostly did a type of ski walk, reminiscent of XC ski training back in the day, most of the way up. Where it was "flat", I picked up the poles and started running, but for the most part that wasn't even possible, let alone efficient.
The entire race, I had no idea where I was on the course, how far I had come or how far I had to go, or how long I"d been going (I forgot my watch again). But I got in my rhythm and just went, apparently rather quickly. A bit before halfway up, I started passing the non-competitive wave, and that worked out well, since I didn't know where I was going, either. I started just having fun with the race, clacking my poles and cheering people on as I passed them. Any way, because of the severe slope of the hill, I didn't know I was right at the top until I was about 50 meters from the finish, when I picked up my poles and sprinted in.
At that point, while I was collapsed, leaning on my poles, gasping for air and trying not to throw up, one of the race volunteers told me to take of my timing chip, which was strapped to my ankle. There was no way that was going to happen, and I think I scared the poor girl with the look I gave her until she just decided to take it off herself. I don't think she'd volunteered at a race like that before. And yet somehow, after about two minutes, I was skipping around and waiting to cheer Shanna in. I think I still have some remnant of my XC training from high school, or at the very least my body remembers it.
Turns out I made my goal of under an hour, by about a minute or so. I ended in the top ten racers, which supposedly won me a pair of boots, but there was some confusion there, and I may have to get those later. The big news is that Lucas (mendioned above), and Shanna (the friend I stayed with) got 2nd overall and for women, respectively. I came in about 10 minutes behind Lucas and 5 ahead of Shanna, which is pretty good for coming in from Boulder. And, since I was on a team with both of them, our team won that competition with a total time of 2hrs 57 minutes. As Lucas said "We totally stacked it!" Any way, for that, we won a dinner party for 6, and we each won a pair of (really friggin nice) sunglasses, along with a few smaller prizes. They do well passing stuff out.
So the race ended at the top of the Gondola on Aspen mountain, and it was followed by a dinner and party at the Sundeck up there. They put on a good party, along with everything else. They had a great Funk band, which turned out to be the same one that plays for Shanna's church. So we hung out there for three hours, and then headed down into Aspen and hung out for a few more hours.
Next morning, we went skiing, despite somewhat sore legs from the night before. Unfortunately, as soon as I got to the top on the Gondola, my binding broke as I was strapping my skis on. So I had to ride the Gondola down again, go to the mountaineering store, and get those fixed But within an hour or so I was back up, and skiing with 5 other Telemarkers. This marks four times that I've Tele skied, and one thing I've noticed is that Tele skiers are always excited by a convert, and are willing to a) wait around for you while you're learning and b) give you lessons. In fact, it's hard to avoid the latter. I was kinda getting the hang of it by the end. We skied for about 3 hours, by which point we were all exhausted and decided to head down.
My original plan was to stay another night, and head back Monday morning to avoid ski traffic, but there was a storm coming in that night, so I opted to leave last night, and got back to Boulder around 7:30, time enough to do four more hours of work and head to bed.
Now, on Monday morning, I am having some significant trouble moving at all. I think an ice bath may be in order later today.
As soon as I upload it, I post a pic of the winning team (Cross Roads).
All in all, it was the perfect way to end a racing year.
I ended up wearing Kahtoola Microspikes, which are pretty much a heavy duty version of YakTrax (with chains and steel spikes on the bottoms instead of metal rings). It worked perfectly. The race goes straight up a groomed ski run, so I took poles and mostly did a type of ski walk, reminiscent of XC ski training back in the day, most of the way up. Where it was "flat", I picked up the poles and started running, but for the most part that wasn't even possible, let alone efficient.
The entire race, I had no idea where I was on the course, how far I had come or how far I had to go, or how long I"d been going (I forgot my watch again). But I got in my rhythm and just went, apparently rather quickly. A bit before halfway up, I started passing the non-competitive wave, and that worked out well, since I didn't know where I was going, either. I started just having fun with the race, clacking my poles and cheering people on as I passed them. Any way, because of the severe slope of the hill, I didn't know I was right at the top until I was about 50 meters from the finish, when I picked up my poles and sprinted in.
At that point, while I was collapsed, leaning on my poles, gasping for air and trying not to throw up, one of the race volunteers told me to take of my timing chip, which was strapped to my ankle. There was no way that was going to happen, and I think I scared the poor girl with the look I gave her until she just decided to take it off herself. I don't think she'd volunteered at a race like that before. And yet somehow, after about two minutes, I was skipping around and waiting to cheer Shanna in. I think I still have some remnant of my XC training from high school, or at the very least my body remembers it.
Turns out I made my goal of under an hour, by about a minute or so. I ended in the top ten racers, which supposedly won me a pair of boots, but there was some confusion there, and I may have to get those later. The big news is that Lucas (mendioned above), and Shanna (the friend I stayed with) got 2nd overall and for women, respectively. I came in about 10 minutes behind Lucas and 5 ahead of Shanna, which is pretty good for coming in from Boulder. And, since I was on a team with both of them, our team won that competition with a total time of 2hrs 57 minutes. As Lucas said "We totally stacked it!" Any way, for that, we won a dinner party for 6, and we each won a pair of (really friggin nice) sunglasses, along with a few smaller prizes. They do well passing stuff out.
So the race ended at the top of the Gondola on Aspen mountain, and it was followed by a dinner and party at the Sundeck up there. They put on a good party, along with everything else. They had a great Funk band, which turned out to be the same one that plays for Shanna's church. So we hung out there for three hours, and then headed down into Aspen and hung out for a few more hours.
Next morning, we went skiing, despite somewhat sore legs from the night before. Unfortunately, as soon as I got to the top on the Gondola, my binding broke as I was strapping my skis on. So I had to ride the Gondola down again, go to the mountaineering store, and get those fixed But within an hour or so I was back up, and skiing with 5 other Telemarkers. This marks four times that I've Tele skied, and one thing I've noticed is that Tele skiers are always excited by a convert, and are willing to a) wait around for you while you're learning and b) give you lessons. In fact, it's hard to avoid the latter. I was kinda getting the hang of it by the end. We skied for about 3 hours, by which point we were all exhausted and decided to head down.
My original plan was to stay another night, and head back Monday morning to avoid ski traffic, but there was a storm coming in that night, so I opted to leave last night, and got back to Boulder around 7:30, time enough to do four more hours of work and head to bed.
Now, on Monday morning, I am having some significant trouble moving at all. I think an ice bath may be in order later today.
As soon as I upload it, I post a pic of the winning team (Cross Roads).
All in all, it was the perfect way to end a racing year.
Friday, December 5, 2008
And I'm off
I'm off to Aspen tomorrow morning (early?). Summit for Life is at 6PM. Thank you so much to all who donated!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Snow Run
I think I wrote about this phenomenon last year at a similar time, but running in the snow is mentally fundamentally different than running any other time. Granted, it is also physically different, seeing as there's suddenly that whole "slipping and falling" issue that usually doesn't come up quite so dramatically (I recall one run in undergrad where there were 6 of us trail running in the snow, and we came in 45 minutes having 13 falls total. No injuries thankfully.) But it's mentally where I notice the most change.
After I was done with my various meetings yesterday, I took the bus home (maybe the last time I do that this year. I am not patient) and went up Sanitas for a short run. The snow had just really started coming down, so there wasn't much on the ground by that point, but there was plenty flying in your face.
I think that's really what does it. The flakes look like they're coming at you so fast. It felt like I didn't have to put any effort into running at all, like my legs could carry me as far and as fast as I could possibly want.
And that's what it always feels like in the snow. It's the closest thing I know to flying.
On another note, we awoke to 4 inches on our deck this morning with 15 degree temperatures. Of course, after my annoyance with the bus yesterday, I was not about to do that again. My roommate opted to drive (seems pretty silly to me, and probably takes longer). I, true to form, got out the bike and got to school before him. That may seem surprising, but it's really not that weird. You see, this is Boulder, where they are extremely good about plowing and sweeping the bike paths, but seem to ignore the roads.
And I am not complaining.
After I was done with my various meetings yesterday, I took the bus home (maybe the last time I do that this year. I am not patient) and went up Sanitas for a short run. The snow had just really started coming down, so there wasn't much on the ground by that point, but there was plenty flying in your face.
I think that's really what does it. The flakes look like they're coming at you so fast. It felt like I didn't have to put any effort into running at all, like my legs could carry me as far and as fast as I could possibly want.
And that's what it always feels like in the snow. It's the closest thing I know to flying.
On another note, we awoke to 4 inches on our deck this morning with 15 degree temperatures. Of course, after my annoyance with the bus yesterday, I was not about to do that again. My roommate opted to drive (seems pretty silly to me, and probably takes longer). I, true to form, got out the bike and got to school before him. That may seem surprising, but it's really not that weird. You see, this is Boulder, where they are extremely good about plowing and sweeping the bike paths, but seem to ignore the roads.
And I am not complaining.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Powder Day
I went skiing for the first time in almost three years yesterday. A daunting prospect, for a variety of reasons. Not having skied for several years is bad enough, but it was only the third time I'd tele skied period. And there's the small fact of one shoulder surgery and a broken ankle between those first two times skiing and this time, and I was a little nervous.
Turned out ok though. Granted, I'm still not very good at Tele skiing, but I'm getting better, and it didn't go as badly as it could have.
The main story of the day, however, was the trip to and from A-Basin. It was snowing the entire day. On the way up, traffic was about as expected: moving slowly as we got closer to the pass and the Eisenhower tunnels. But near the top, people were sliding all over the place. In our little Subaru (more than capable in most conditions) a tap of the accelerator had the back swinging out. That's hard to do with an AWD car with snow tires.
But we got to the hill no problem. After 3 or so hours of skiing and standing in lift lines (most people stuck to the bottom, with good reason. It was about 10-15 degrees at the top with a 20-40 mph wind to make things yet more interesting.) we decided to head back to Boulder.
Good luck.
Past Keystone, it was bumper to bumper traffic all the way up I-70 to the tunnels. We left the mountain at 2:30, or a little before. It was after 7:00 by the time we got through the tunnels. And once we did, we got to deal with whiteout conditions. If we were wondering why traffic was moving so slowly, we quickly figured it out.
All in all, we spent 10 hours driving, and about 3 on the mountain. Not a great ratio, but it was still fun, and I'm looking forward to Aspen next weekend.
Turned out ok though. Granted, I'm still not very good at Tele skiing, but I'm getting better, and it didn't go as badly as it could have.
The main story of the day, however, was the trip to and from A-Basin. It was snowing the entire day. On the way up, traffic was about as expected: moving slowly as we got closer to the pass and the Eisenhower tunnels. But near the top, people were sliding all over the place. In our little Subaru (more than capable in most conditions) a tap of the accelerator had the back swinging out. That's hard to do with an AWD car with snow tires.
But we got to the hill no problem. After 3 or so hours of skiing and standing in lift lines (most people stuck to the bottom, with good reason. It was about 10-15 degrees at the top with a 20-40 mph wind to make things yet more interesting.) we decided to head back to Boulder.
Good luck.
Past Keystone, it was bumper to bumper traffic all the way up I-70 to the tunnels. We left the mountain at 2:30, or a little before. It was after 7:00 by the time we got through the tunnels. And once we did, we got to deal with whiteout conditions. If we were wondering why traffic was moving so slowly, we quickly figured it out.
All in all, we spent 10 hours driving, and about 3 on the mountain. Not a great ratio, but it was still fun, and I'm looking forward to Aspen next weekend.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thanksgiving Break so far
True to expectations, this has been a surprisingly busy Thanksgiving Break. There have been several nights so far this break when my roommate and I have glanced up from our respective schoolwork at 10:30PM, looked at each other, and said "Wait, aren't we supposed to be on break??"
That said, I haven't actually gotten all that much done. I've been doing a lot of reading for my research, which has helped things make a good deal more sense, but I haven't yet been able to code up a specific algorithm for my research. I'm getting to the point where I'm coming close to despair on this point, but I'm not there yet.
Certainly, though, I have not simply been holed up doing work this break. I have been out and about doing some epic runs as well. Between Tuesday and Thursday, I propelled my body a total of 53 miles. Which leads me to believe I might be able to take a day off today (and in fact I will).
So, Tuesday, after a morning coffee with my sister while discussing our research (we work for the same professor on some of our stuff now, which has proved to be nice, rather than competitive). I went out for a longer run than I've done in probably a year. I took off from my house, through Sanitas, past Red Rocks park, down through Eben G Fine, up Viewpoint, down Flagstaff, up Bluebell-Baird, and off onto Mesa Trail. 2:45 and a bit over 18 miles later, I got back to my house. The run itself went surprisingly well, and I even managed to pull a little sprint there at the end.
Wednesday dawned bright and beautiful. By 1PM it was over 60, sunny, and calm. So true to form, I took out my road bike and took off on the highways. I rode up to Jamestown and back (28 miles or so). Not too bad a ride all told. There's a 7-mile hill up to Jamestown itself, but on the whole it's a pretty shallow grade, so I didn't have to push all that hard. And, also a tradition, when I got back, I laced up my running shoes to go for a quick "shakedown" run.
And yesterday, prior to a Thanksgiving feast, I took off up through Sanitas again for a quick 4 miler in the morning. Nothing too hard, but I could feel that my legs were getting a bit worn down, which leaves me taking today off, probably taking an ice bath, and holed up in my favorite coffee shop for some studying, some reading, and a little bit of blogging.
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgving, filled with the three F's (family, friends, and food), and are duly taking a day off from worry today.
And as I said yesterday, this year I'm thankful (as ever) for my family and friends, and my open prospects for the future, in running and everything else.
That said, I haven't actually gotten all that much done. I've been doing a lot of reading for my research, which has helped things make a good deal more sense, but I haven't yet been able to code up a specific algorithm for my research. I'm getting to the point where I'm coming close to despair on this point, but I'm not there yet.
Certainly, though, I have not simply been holed up doing work this break. I have been out and about doing some epic runs as well. Between Tuesday and Thursday, I propelled my body a total of 53 miles. Which leads me to believe I might be able to take a day off today (and in fact I will).
So, Tuesday, after a morning coffee with my sister while discussing our research (we work for the same professor on some of our stuff now, which has proved to be nice, rather than competitive). I went out for a longer run than I've done in probably a year. I took off from my house, through Sanitas, past Red Rocks park, down through Eben G Fine, up Viewpoint, down Flagstaff, up Bluebell-Baird, and off onto Mesa Trail. 2:45 and a bit over 18 miles later, I got back to my house. The run itself went surprisingly well, and I even managed to pull a little sprint there at the end.
Wednesday dawned bright and beautiful. By 1PM it was over 60, sunny, and calm. So true to form, I took out my road bike and took off on the highways. I rode up to Jamestown and back (28 miles or so). Not too bad a ride all told. There's a 7-mile hill up to Jamestown itself, but on the whole it's a pretty shallow grade, so I didn't have to push all that hard. And, also a tradition, when I got back, I laced up my running shoes to go for a quick "shakedown" run.
And yesterday, prior to a Thanksgiving feast, I took off up through Sanitas again for a quick 4 miler in the morning. Nothing too hard, but I could feel that my legs were getting a bit worn down, which leaves me taking today off, probably taking an ice bath, and holed up in my favorite coffee shop for some studying, some reading, and a little bit of blogging.
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgving, filled with the three F's (family, friends, and food), and are duly taking a day off from worry today.
And as I said yesterday, this year I'm thankful (as ever) for my family and friends, and my open prospects for the future, in running and everything else.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Summit For Life, part 2
In two weeks, on December 6th, around 6PM, I will be lacing up my running shoes, strapping on crampons, turning on my headlamp, gripping my ski poles, and racing 3267' and 2.5 miles up Aspen Mountain in the snow. At night.
Why am I doing this? Well, besides just sounding like a unique, fun, challenging race, it raises money for education on organ and tissue donation. This cause gets far less publicity than cancer or MS or any of the other myriad health issues that face millions of people every day, but requires no research to solve. It requires choices made by individuals to become a donor. So the most effective "treatment" is education.
I know many of my friends have as little money as I do, but I would appreciate any help you are willing and able to give. By registering for the race, I pledged to raise at least $60, but I'd really love to beat that.
If you want to know more about it, or are willing to give a bit, follow the link below for info. Click "Sponsor a Runner" if you're interested in donating.
Thank you!
www.summitforlife.org
Why am I doing this? Well, besides just sounding like a unique, fun, challenging race, it raises money for education on organ and tissue donation. This cause gets far less publicity than cancer or MS or any of the other myriad health issues that face millions of people every day, but requires no research to solve. It requires choices made by individuals to become a donor. So the most effective "treatment" is education.
I know many of my friends have as little money as I do, but I would appreciate any help you are willing and able to give. By registering for the race, I pledged to raise at least $60, but I'd really love to beat that.
If you want to know more about it, or are willing to give a bit, follow the link below for info. Click "Sponsor a Runner" if you're interested in donating.
Thank you!
www.summitforlife.org
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Seems to be working
Most of yesterday, I did not think I'd be able to get a run in. With a problem set due today (Thursday) and several meetings that day, I figured I wouldn't have time. Fortunately, I decided that, even though I didn't have much time, I'd make time for a short run.
So, as sometimes happens, I chose to get as much of a workout in during that time as possible, so I did a relatively short tempo run. I burned through my "classic" 3-mile loop near my house in 19 minutes, and at the end I wasn't even breathing hard and hadn't felt like I'd worked all that hard.
This is the first tempo run of any sort I've done in some time, so I had no idea what to expect. While it wasn't quite as shocking as the 9:58 two-mile I pulled out of nowhere in the spring, I was pretty happy with it over all.
I also ran into (almost literally) one of my friends from my old running group on my cooldown. Turns out she broke up with her boyfriend (my old coach) a few months ago. I'm not sure what's with the rash of breakups recently , but it seems to be a pattern among the runners I know (really, just the runners, it's uncanny). Must be something in the air we breathe out here.
After the run, I came back up to school, and worked solidly until about 1AM to finish my problem set. I haven't been able to make myself do anything like that since I got back to school last year, and I don't plan on making it a habit. I think mostly I was able to do so last night because I knew that Thanksgiving break starts this afternoon!
I don't plan to go anywhere for break, but I have some epic runs in the works, so look out for related posts sometime soon.
So, as sometimes happens, I chose to get as much of a workout in during that time as possible, so I did a relatively short tempo run. I burned through my "classic" 3-mile loop near my house in 19 minutes, and at the end I wasn't even breathing hard and hadn't felt like I'd worked all that hard.
This is the first tempo run of any sort I've done in some time, so I had no idea what to expect. While it wasn't quite as shocking as the 9:58 two-mile I pulled out of nowhere in the spring, I was pretty happy with it over all.
I also ran into (almost literally) one of my friends from my old running group on my cooldown. Turns out she broke up with her boyfriend (my old coach) a few months ago. I'm not sure what's with the rash of breakups recently , but it seems to be a pattern among the runners I know (really, just the runners, it's uncanny). Must be something in the air we breathe out here.
After the run, I came back up to school, and worked solidly until about 1AM to finish my problem set. I haven't been able to make myself do anything like that since I got back to school last year, and I don't plan on making it a habit. I think mostly I was able to do so last night because I knew that Thanksgiving break starts this afternoon!
I don't plan to go anywhere for break, but I have some epic runs in the works, so look out for related posts sometime soon.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The Weekend
My friend Shanna from Aspen came down to Boulder for this last weekend, an infrequent occurrence for the most part. I think the last time she was down this year was for the Bolder Boulder at the end of May (which, despite being out here for three years at this point, I still have never been healthy for). In any case, we went for a run along Mesa Saturday morning/afternoon.
Saturday morning dawned bright. And cold. When I got up at 8AM it was around 20. Fortunately, by the time we met up around 11:00, it had warmed considerably, and ended at just about the perfect running temperature. Naturally, we ended up a little bit overdressed, but not terribly so.
The run itself was phenomenal. It's just fun to run with somebody as (supposedly) crazy as I am. We were alternately bounding and flying downhill, and pushing a bit uphill, passing other people and all the time keeping up a constant stream of conversation. This particular run just felt a lot freer than some I've done lately. It felt almost effortless, though given how my legs felt the next couple days, that obviously was not the case.
Being a sunny Saturday, naturally the trails were crowded. This led to a few interesting encounters with dogs that did not seem to realize that getting in the way of a runner on the trail was just not a good idea. One particularly small dog forced me to do a bit of acrobatics as it decided that right where my foot was going to come down was a good place to run to. Shanna had an encounter where the dog did not seem to realize that, if you put yourself in the way of a runners foot, you're going to get hit. But the dogs, and the runners, were none the worse for wear for the incidents, thankfully.
We ended up adding on the Flatiron loop to the end of the run. When Shanna said "Can we take my favorite way down?" I knew precisely what was coming. And, sure enough, after bombing down two more trails, startling a few more people, we ended up back at the trailhead, and within minutes were calmly sitting on a fence chatting again...
Once again, I brought my camera on the run only to completely forget to take any pictures. I was really not interested in stopping on this run.
More to come on the weekend topics later.
Saturday morning dawned bright. And cold. When I got up at 8AM it was around 20. Fortunately, by the time we met up around 11:00, it had warmed considerably, and ended at just about the perfect running temperature. Naturally, we ended up a little bit overdressed, but not terribly so.
The run itself was phenomenal. It's just fun to run with somebody as (supposedly) crazy as I am. We were alternately bounding and flying downhill, and pushing a bit uphill, passing other people and all the time keeping up a constant stream of conversation. This particular run just felt a lot freer than some I've done lately. It felt almost effortless, though given how my legs felt the next couple days, that obviously was not the case.
Being a sunny Saturday, naturally the trails were crowded. This led to a few interesting encounters with dogs that did not seem to realize that getting in the way of a runner on the trail was just not a good idea. One particularly small dog forced me to do a bit of acrobatics as it decided that right where my foot was going to come down was a good place to run to. Shanna had an encounter where the dog did not seem to realize that, if you put yourself in the way of a runners foot, you're going to get hit. But the dogs, and the runners, were none the worse for wear for the incidents, thankfully.
We ended up adding on the Flatiron loop to the end of the run. When Shanna said "Can we take my favorite way down?" I knew precisely what was coming. And, sure enough, after bombing down two more trails, startling a few more people, we ended up back at the trailhead, and within minutes were calmly sitting on a fence chatting again...
Once again, I brought my camera on the run only to completely forget to take any pictures. I was really not interested in stopping on this run.
More to come on the weekend topics later.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Road (Runner/Biker) Rage
I tend to skim the New York Times, at least the Fitness and Nutrition section, pretty much every day, because the often cover running issues. Today is no exception.
This is something I'm guilty of fairly often. I rarely drive, most often choosing to bike where I need to go. And, as is fairly obvious, I run a lot. While I rarely run much on the roads, and almost never on busy roads, I run into this problem a lot. Simply put, a driver doesn't see me, or does not react well to seeing me. Usually nothing happens: I slow down or stop, or swerve out of the way, the driver apologizes somehow and I wave it off. It happens.
But there are times when it just gets too much. 99.9% of the time the driver is on their cell phone, and thus not paying enough attention to the road around them (this is my primary issue with drivers). I'm sorry to say it, but 90% of those times, it's a woman, often with a child in the back seat (why are you on your cell phone if your kid's in the car, parents?). I have no patience in that case. You try to wave it off and I will get pissed off. I have not yet actually followed up with an actual physical altercation, and I don't anticipate it happening, but it's sometimes very tempting to do so.
But here's the reality: I run, and ride, defensively. Let's face it, in any altercation between a car and a runner or biker, the car will win. But that does not excuse drivers from responsibility. If you're driving, make it your only priority. Your conversation on the phone does not matter as much as my life.
That said, I'm blessed. I live in Boulder, where people are overall quite aware that there are runners and bikers everywhere, and generally quite respectful of the fact. Granted there are a few exceptions (I had one acquaintance who used to talk about attempting to run bikers off the road), but generally people are nice, and they try to be aware and alert. When they aren't, they feel bad and apologize however they can. It's those exceptions, however, that sour the deal.
And that's just one more reason I love trail running . . .
Just one more point to runners (and bikers): DO NOT WEAR HEADPHONES! I don't care what you say, it masks sounds, makes you less aware of your surroundings, and makes running or biking far more dangerous. And in that case, I see no reason that it's not your fault if something happens that you could have avoided if you were more alert. There are tiny speakers out there now for just about every music player around. Use those.
This is something I'm guilty of fairly often. I rarely drive, most often choosing to bike where I need to go. And, as is fairly obvious, I run a lot. While I rarely run much on the roads, and almost never on busy roads, I run into this problem a lot. Simply put, a driver doesn't see me, or does not react well to seeing me. Usually nothing happens: I slow down or stop, or swerve out of the way, the driver apologizes somehow and I wave it off. It happens.
But there are times when it just gets too much. 99.9% of the time the driver is on their cell phone, and thus not paying enough attention to the road around them (this is my primary issue with drivers). I'm sorry to say it, but 90% of those times, it's a woman, often with a child in the back seat (why are you on your cell phone if your kid's in the car, parents?). I have no patience in that case. You try to wave it off and I will get pissed off. I have not yet actually followed up with an actual physical altercation, and I don't anticipate it happening, but it's sometimes very tempting to do so.
But here's the reality: I run, and ride, defensively. Let's face it, in any altercation between a car and a runner or biker, the car will win. But that does not excuse drivers from responsibility. If you're driving, make it your only priority. Your conversation on the phone does not matter as much as my life.
That said, I'm blessed. I live in Boulder, where people are overall quite aware that there are runners and bikers everywhere, and generally quite respectful of the fact. Granted there are a few exceptions (I had one acquaintance who used to talk about attempting to run bikers off the road), but generally people are nice, and they try to be aware and alert. When they aren't, they feel bad and apologize however they can. It's those exceptions, however, that sour the deal.
And that's just one more reason I love trail running . . .
Just one more point to runners (and bikers): DO NOT WEAR HEADPHONES! I don't care what you say, it masks sounds, makes you less aware of your surroundings, and makes running or biking far more dangerous. And in that case, I see no reason that it's not your fault if something happens that you could have avoided if you were more alert. There are tiny speakers out there now for just about every music player around. Use those.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Running Dreams
When I'm running as much as I am right now, I tend to dream about it often. Usually, these are not good dreams. Most often, I'm in some sort of race, and my legs feel like I'm trying to run through molasses. As it turns out, running through molasses is not easy, and I find that everybody starts to pass me, and I can't do anything about it. Suffice to say, those dreams are not pleasant.
Last night (or rather, this morning) was significantly different. I was running a 5k against a bunch of my college and high school teammates, and just felt good. We started out at a decent pace, one I'd never been able to keep before, and kept it about there for the first two miles as people began to drop off the back. At the beginning of mile three, I decided the pace was too slow, as there was still a group of 6 or 8 people in the lead group, and I took off. I put in a sprint for about 400 meters, and by the time I eased off (not by much) there was only one other person who still was with me.
After all that, I ended up losing by half a stride at the finish line. But still, it was a good dream. I distinctly remember running a 14:55, which is far better than I've done lately.
On a side note, it's November 10th today. I always like to mark this day, because 33 years ago today, the SS Edmund Fitzgerald sank with all hands on Lake Superior. As a northern Minnesota boy myself, I had a small obsession with this particular sinking as a kid. It was, and is, the largest boat ever to go down on the Great Lakes, and still a bit of a mystery. It's also the inspiration for the song "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot, and the Symphony "Ten November."
So here's to the Fitz, reminding us of the cruel nature of the Witch of November on Gitchee Gummi.
Last night (or rather, this morning) was significantly different. I was running a 5k against a bunch of my college and high school teammates, and just felt good. We started out at a decent pace, one I'd never been able to keep before, and kept it about there for the first two miles as people began to drop off the back. At the beginning of mile three, I decided the pace was too slow, as there was still a group of 6 or 8 people in the lead group, and I took off. I put in a sprint for about 400 meters, and by the time I eased off (not by much) there was only one other person who still was with me.
After all that, I ended up losing by half a stride at the finish line. But still, it was a good dream. I distinctly remember running a 14:55, which is far better than I've done lately.
On a side note, it's November 10th today. I always like to mark this day, because 33 years ago today, the SS Edmund Fitzgerald sank with all hands on Lake Superior. As a northern Minnesota boy myself, I had a small obsession with this particular sinking as a kid. It was, and is, the largest boat ever to go down on the Great Lakes, and still a bit of a mystery. It's also the inspiration for the song "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot, and the Symphony "Ten November."
So here's to the Fitz, reminding us of the cruel nature of the Witch of November on Gitchee Gummi.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Summit For Life
Well, my next (big) race is now under a month away. This one is a little different from my typical races. The Summit for Life, formerly the Storm the Stars, is a rather unique race, period. It takes place in December, in Aspen, CO, at 5 and 6PM (so yes, in the dark), and takes you 2.5 miles and 3500 feet up Aspen mountain. Which means, of course, that it's entirely on snow. Skis, snowshoes, and running shoes are all permitted (essentially, any non-motorized conveyance you can think of to propel yourself up the mountain is allowed). This year, they are introducing a competitive wave, for those who anticipate finishing in under two hours. The winner seems to finish in around 55 minutes.
Yes, that's for 2.5 miles. And for those of you who follow running in Colorado, Bernie Boettcher won it in around 54 minutes last year. Something tells me if he's running, I won't win.
In any case, I recently realized that this is the perfect race for me to be doing right now. My sights are set on a few races next summer (length TBD, mostly half-marathon type distances, I think), with a few possibilities beforehand in the spring. Naturally, for a race up a ski hill, I've been doing some serious strength training. Friday was 4 repeats up a section of the Royal Arch Trail here, coming in at about 8 minutes each, which gave me some serious strength training, and a tiny bit of endurance.
This is money in the bank for any runner, and especially for somebody who classifies himself as a trail runner. The first step in any training regime, save a base mileage program, is strength training, usually through hill repeats. This conditions your body to learn to accept the punishment you'll be laying down later in your training, and gives you a better base from which to work.
So here's to long hill workouts. If you don't feel a tiny bit sick to your stomach afterwards, you're just not doing it correctly.
Yes, that's for 2.5 miles. And for those of you who follow running in Colorado, Bernie Boettcher won it in around 54 minutes last year. Something tells me if he's running, I won't win.
In any case, I recently realized that this is the perfect race for me to be doing right now. My sights are set on a few races next summer (length TBD, mostly half-marathon type distances, I think), with a few possibilities beforehand in the spring. Naturally, for a race up a ski hill, I've been doing some serious strength training. Friday was 4 repeats up a section of the Royal Arch Trail here, coming in at about 8 minutes each, which gave me some serious strength training, and a tiny bit of endurance.
This is money in the bank for any runner, and especially for somebody who classifies himself as a trail runner. The first step in any training regime, save a base mileage program, is strength training, usually through hill repeats. This conditions your body to learn to accept the punishment you'll be laying down later in your training, and gives you a better base from which to work.
So here's to long hill workouts. If you don't feel a tiny bit sick to your stomach afterwards, you're just not doing it correctly.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Stretching
Anybody who's read this blog much (I don't know how many of those there are) knows that I love the New York Times health section. They've delivered once again with a rather interesting article on stretching before your workout.
I don't stretch before my workouts very often, unless there's a specific muscle that's been bothering me, or just feels too tight. I always warm up before getting into the core portion of my workout, but I usually save stretching for after the workout is done.
The article suggests that dynamic stretching might be helpful before a workout. From my own sprinting days (yes, I used to run the 100m, 200m, 400m, and do the long jump) I have my routine that I go through (butt kicks, striders, etc . . .) which sometimes gets me some strange looks on the starting line. If nothing else, the routine both calms me and psychs me up mentally. It may sound contradictory, but it's all about getting into the proper race zone.
So while stretching beforehand is not something I usually do, I highly recommend a set pre-race routine. Do it before your hard workouts too, and you might just find you get more out of them.
I don't stretch before my workouts very often, unless there's a specific muscle that's been bothering me, or just feels too tight. I always warm up before getting into the core portion of my workout, but I usually save stretching for after the workout is done.
The article suggests that dynamic stretching might be helpful before a workout. From my own sprinting days (yes, I used to run the 100m, 200m, 400m, and do the long jump) I have my routine that I go through (butt kicks, striders, etc . . .) which sometimes gets me some strange looks on the starting line. If nothing else, the routine both calms me and psychs me up mentally. It may sound contradictory, but it's all about getting into the proper race zone.
So while stretching beforehand is not something I usually do, I highly recommend a set pre-race routine. Do it before your hard workouts too, and you might just find you get more out of them.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Election Day!
I know it's not specifically on the subject of this blog, but get out and vote today if you're a US Citizen.
Blacks got the right to vote in 1870. Women in 1920. Native Americans in 1924. There are no excuses. Exercise your right.
I'm a shameless runner and I approve this message.
Blacks got the right to vote in 1870. Women in 1920. Native Americans in 1924. There are no excuses. Exercise your right.
I'm a shameless runner and I approve this message.
Monday, November 3, 2008
My Feet Hurt
Go figure. They got a bit beat up over the past few days.
After my rather longer-than-usual run on Friday, as might be expected, I had a few blisters. Mostly, that was because of the snow I kept having to force my way through. By the time I reached Devils Thumb Pass, my feet were wet, and there was far more snow on the divide trail and going down King Lake Trail than there was on the way up. And, as most runners soon find, wet feet lead to blisters.
Saturday, I decided to take it a bit easy on my legs and feet, and went for a ride up Four Mile Canyon instead. It felt good to be on the bike again, something I haven't done since school started again this fall. The sad fact of the matter is that it takes a while longer, on average, to get a decent bike ride in than it does to run.
But once I got off the bike, my legs felt a little off, and I could tell if I didn't get at least a bit of running in, they'd feel worse the next morning. So after an hour or so, I went for another, very short, run.
Sunday, I opted to run up in Chautauqua again. Probably didn't help my feet any, but my legs needed a good shakedown run.
You can tell it was a good weekend when you have trouble moving on Monday morning.
After my rather longer-than-usual run on Friday, as might be expected, I had a few blisters. Mostly, that was because of the snow I kept having to force my way through. By the time I reached Devils Thumb Pass, my feet were wet, and there was far more snow on the divide trail and going down King Lake Trail than there was on the way up. And, as most runners soon find, wet feet lead to blisters.
Saturday, I decided to take it a bit easy on my legs and feet, and went for a ride up Four Mile Canyon instead. It felt good to be on the bike again, something I haven't done since school started again this fall. The sad fact of the matter is that it takes a while longer, on average, to get a decent bike ride in than it does to run.
But once I got off the bike, my legs felt a little off, and I could tell if I didn't get at least a bit of running in, they'd feel worse the next morning. So after an hour or so, I went for another, very short, run.
Sunday, I opted to run up in Chautauqua again. Probably didn't help my feet any, but my legs needed a good shakedown run.
You can tell it was a good weekend when you have trouble moving on Monday morning.
Friday, October 31, 2008
A High Lonesome Halloween
Last Sunday, I had planned to run the High Lonesome Loop. If you're from Boulder, you probably know what I'm talking about. Basically, it's a loop that, starting from 9000', goes up to the continental divide, traverses the divide for 2.5 miles, and then drops back down via another trail. I chose to go up Devil's Thumb, and down King Lake Trail. All told, it's somewhere around 15 miles, with 4000 feet or so of total elevation gain (it actually travels between about 9000' and about 12500'). It took me a total of 3 hours and 45 minutes today.
When I started out, it was a perfect day (and it remained so): 40 degrees, sunny, with little wind. I took off from the Hessie Trailhead just past Eldora, and, attempting to pace myself, went to town.
This image came about 20 minutes into the run. Probably not more than 9500'. Two weeks ago, this stream was snowy, but clear. Last week it was just clear. Apparently in the past week or so it has cooled down a lot.
At about an hour (1:05, actually) I hit Jasper Lake. Normally, in the summer, this lake is full up almost to where I was standing while taking this picture. In fact, it's a reservoir for a ranch a few miles east of here. It doesn't look quite so pretty when drained of most of it's water (elevation 10800). This is really where I got my first look at where I was headed (below).
I was a little daunted. I was aiming just to the right of the peak in this picture. But, to make things yet more interesting, a lot of the trail looked like this.
It made things interesting, but not worrisome yet. Within another twenty minutes, I was up at Devil's Thumb Lake. 11140'
As you can see, pretty well frozen over. Any thoughts as to why it's called Devil's Thumb?
At this point, though, I started getting a little nervous as to whether or not I'd even be able to finish the run. The trail was getting more and more choked with snow, and I knew what was coming. Most times, at the top of Devil's Thumb Pass, there's a snowfield that has to be climbed somehow in order to get up to the divide itself. I was not expecting to be able to do that, considering I chose not to bring my crampons or trekking poles (figuring they'd mostly weigh me down).
You can see where I'm heading in this one. There's a white snake of sorts climbing up the mountain. That's the trail. I follow that up, and around the mini peak in the foreground to the rockfield and the divide. I was thinking of turning around at this point.
I'm glad I decided to keep going. Otherwise I wouldn't have seen these three guys. Three Ptarmigans wearing their winter feathers, all nicely lined up as if they were waiting for some fool runner to come by and take their picture.
The trail I'm heading up. The Ptarmigan is still in the picture. At this point in my run, I was seriously considering turning around. But I still knew at this point that I could turn around and head down with no problems. The snow was windblown and had a good crust, so it gave good traction and was firmly in place.
I did finally make it up to the Pass. Lucky for me, the snowfield that usually is at the top was not there this time, so I could just climb up a rock field. Much more comforting when you're up there by yourself.
I finally made it up to the divide! From here it was a hop down to the High Lonesome Trail. It took a bit under two hours to get from the trailhead up to the divide. Half an hour along the divide, and a bit over an hour down (down snowfields this time, a little hairy sometimes, and I fell on my ass a couple times, but mostly ok).
They don't call it the "High Lonesome Trail" for nothing. I was running for almost four hours, and I saw six other people. Five of those were within a mile of the trailhead. The other was doing the same loop I was, only equipped with trekking poles and crampons, decidedly not running.
Now, it's eight o'clock on Halloween Night. And, as I planned, I am utterly wiped out (Between midterms this week and the run today) and ready to go to bed. I'll probably lose one of my toenails in the next few days. My feet hurt. My legs are tired. And I"m eating constantly.
In short: good run.
Tallies:
Mileage: 15-16
Elevation: 4000+ (total)
Time: 3 hr 45 min
When I started out, it was a perfect day (and it remained so): 40 degrees, sunny, with little wind. I took off from the Hessie Trailhead just past Eldora, and, attempting to pace myself, went to town.
This image came about 20 minutes into the run. Probably not more than 9500'. Two weeks ago, this stream was snowy, but clear. Last week it was just clear. Apparently in the past week or so it has cooled down a lot.
At about an hour (1:05, actually) I hit Jasper Lake. Normally, in the summer, this lake is full up almost to where I was standing while taking this picture. In fact, it's a reservoir for a ranch a few miles east of here. It doesn't look quite so pretty when drained of most of it's water (elevation 10800). This is really where I got my first look at where I was headed (below).
I was a little daunted. I was aiming just to the right of the peak in this picture. But, to make things yet more interesting, a lot of the trail looked like this.
It made things interesting, but not worrisome yet. Within another twenty minutes, I was up at Devil's Thumb Lake. 11140'
As you can see, pretty well frozen over. Any thoughts as to why it's called Devil's Thumb?
At this point, though, I started getting a little nervous as to whether or not I'd even be able to finish the run. The trail was getting more and more choked with snow, and I knew what was coming. Most times, at the top of Devil's Thumb Pass, there's a snowfield that has to be climbed somehow in order to get up to the divide itself. I was not expecting to be able to do that, considering I chose not to bring my crampons or trekking poles (figuring they'd mostly weigh me down).
You can see where I'm heading in this one. There's a white snake of sorts climbing up the mountain. That's the trail. I follow that up, and around the mini peak in the foreground to the rockfield and the divide. I was thinking of turning around at this point.
I'm glad I decided to keep going. Otherwise I wouldn't have seen these three guys. Three Ptarmigans wearing their winter feathers, all nicely lined up as if they were waiting for some fool runner to come by and take their picture.
The trail I'm heading up. The Ptarmigan is still in the picture. At this point in my run, I was seriously considering turning around. But I still knew at this point that I could turn around and head down with no problems. The snow was windblown and had a good crust, so it gave good traction and was firmly in place.
I did finally make it up to the Pass. Lucky for me, the snowfield that usually is at the top was not there this time, so I could just climb up a rock field. Much more comforting when you're up there by yourself.
I finally made it up to the divide! From here it was a hop down to the High Lonesome Trail. It took a bit under two hours to get from the trailhead up to the divide. Half an hour along the divide, and a bit over an hour down (down snowfields this time, a little hairy sometimes, and I fell on my ass a couple times, but mostly ok).
They don't call it the "High Lonesome Trail" for nothing. I was running for almost four hours, and I saw six other people. Five of those were within a mile of the trailhead. The other was doing the same loop I was, only equipped with trekking poles and crampons, decidedly not running.
Now, it's eight o'clock on Halloween Night. And, as I planned, I am utterly wiped out (Between midterms this week and the run today) and ready to go to bed. I'll probably lose one of my toenails in the next few days. My feet hurt. My legs are tired. And I"m eating constantly.
In short: good run.
Tallies:
Mileage: 15-16
Elevation: 4000+ (total)
Time: 3 hr 45 min
Monday, October 13, 2008
Not Your Typical Run
I had a much more interesting run than I'd anticipated today. I intended to go for 1:15 to 1:25 or so, on the trails up Flagstaff and Chautauqua.
We got our first snow here in Boulder last night, and I woke up this morning to one of my favorite sights out here: the Snow-Frosted Flatirons. The Flatirons are impressive at any time, but there's something particularly amazing when the get either just a dusting of snow, as we got last night, or it gets so cold here that they literally frost. It's particularly forbidding, and beautiful.
In any case, by the time I got out for my run this afternoon, most, but not all, of the inch or so of snow had melted. The trace that remained was just enough to have made the trails muddy and treacherous.
Regardless, I made it through the first hour or so of my run without any trouble or excitement. Then, as I climbed the limb of Flagstaff again, retracing my previous route, a couple of hikers who I had passed before said "There are four bears on the trail back there. Two adults and two cubs."
Naturally, I chose to bypass that route. Anybody who knows much of anything about bears knows that, when cubs are involved, you'd best steer clear. So I took the road instead of the trail. And sure enough, to my right, downhill, near the path, were three bears. The other had, according to three people who had been driving up, taken off down Flagstaff towards the Hill area.
It's not every day, even around here, you see that much wildlife with that many teeth and claws on a run from your house. The rest of the run consisted of warning runners coming up Flagstaff about the bear activity.
All in all, a satisfying, and unexpectedly interesting, run. I just wish I'd had my camera with me today.
We got our first snow here in Boulder last night, and I woke up this morning to one of my favorite sights out here: the Snow-Frosted Flatirons. The Flatirons are impressive at any time, but there's something particularly amazing when the get either just a dusting of snow, as we got last night, or it gets so cold here that they literally frost. It's particularly forbidding, and beautiful.
In any case, by the time I got out for my run this afternoon, most, but not all, of the inch or so of snow had melted. The trace that remained was just enough to have made the trails muddy and treacherous.
Regardless, I made it through the first hour or so of my run without any trouble or excitement. Then, as I climbed the limb of Flagstaff again, retracing my previous route, a couple of hikers who I had passed before said "There are four bears on the trail back there. Two adults and two cubs."
Naturally, I chose to bypass that route. Anybody who knows much of anything about bears knows that, when cubs are involved, you'd best steer clear. So I took the road instead of the trail. And sure enough, to my right, downhill, near the path, were three bears. The other had, according to three people who had been driving up, taken off down Flagstaff towards the Hill area.
It's not every day, even around here, you see that much wildlife with that many teeth and claws on a run from your house. The rest of the run consisted of warning runners coming up Flagstaff about the bear activity.
All in all, a satisfying, and unexpectedly interesting, run. I just wish I'd had my camera with me today.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Breakthrough?
This past week has been rather interesting, to say the least. Aside from things in my everyday life outside of running (yes, I do have one), I've reached a new level with my running. I'm not sure yet whether I'm faster than I was this spring when I ran a 9:58 two mile, but I'm definitely faster than I've been since that run.
I pushed myself to a whole new level last weekend at the Golden Leaf, and after it. I put in some 27 miles or so over that weekend, which is more than I can ever remember running before in one weekend. And the fact of the matter is that I should not have been able to do so. At the end of the race, I was literally collapsing. The last two miles I had nothing left in the tank, and the one person I really did not want to pass me did . . .
And then three hours later we went for a 7-8 mile run/hike, just to keep loose. And we added an hour run the next day.
All told, I put in 45 miles last week, which is more weekly mileage than I've done in about 7 months. And I was sick from Monday on . . .
My legs are tired, but I still want to go out and run today. It's good to be back at it again.
I pushed myself to a whole new level last weekend at the Golden Leaf, and after it. I put in some 27 miles or so over that weekend, which is more than I can ever remember running before in one weekend. And the fact of the matter is that I should not have been able to do so. At the end of the race, I was literally collapsing. The last two miles I had nothing left in the tank, and the one person I really did not want to pass me did . . .
And then three hours later we went for a 7-8 mile run/hike, just to keep loose. And we added an hour run the next day.
All told, I put in 45 miles last week, which is more weekly mileage than I've done in about 7 months. And I was sick from Monday on . . .
My legs are tired, but I still want to go out and run today. It's good to be back at it again.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Independence Pass
As I mentioned before, on the way home from Aspen and the Golden Leaf, I took the route over Independence Pass rather than the easier (driving wise) but significantly less scenic and less fun four-lane route. Suffice to say, it was breathtaking this time of year. So, without further ado, here are some of the pics of the pass.
The pic above is looking back at the road up from Aspen, which I believe is somewhere over that embankment on the right side. Any ideas on why the race is called the Golden Leaf?
Looking up the pass where I still have to go. I was surprised by how many rather large trucks were on the pass, especially since vehicles over 35' are prohibited (for some strange reason).
Looking down from the top of the pass to where I'm about to drive. Turns out Lance lives around Aspen now. I can see why. Not many better places to train for a triumphant return to the Tour.
Looking at the ridges from the top of the pass, 12,500' elevation.
On a side note, it looks like I will likely be returning to Aspen in early December for another race. Again, it starts up the side of a ski hill. But there are some added challenges. First, the whole thing is 2.5 miles up the ski hill. Second, obviously the hill will be covered with snow. Third, it's at night.
Should be fun!
The pic above is looking back at the road up from Aspen, which I believe is somewhere over that embankment on the right side. Any ideas on why the race is called the Golden Leaf?
Looking up the pass where I still have to go. I was surprised by how many rather large trucks were on the pass, especially since vehicles over 35' are prohibited (for some strange reason).
Looking down from the top of the pass to where I'm about to drive. Turns out Lance lives around Aspen now. I can see why. Not many better places to train for a triumphant return to the Tour.
Looking at the ridges from the top of the pass, 12,500' elevation.On a side note, it looks like I will likely be returning to Aspen in early December for another race. Again, it starts up the side of a ski hill. But there are some added challenges. First, the whole thing is 2.5 miles up the ski hill. Second, obviously the hill will be covered with snow. Third, it's at night.
Should be fun!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Aspen and the Golden Leaf!
Despite a departure postponed by a good 6 hours, I managed to make good time getting to Aspen by 7PM on Friday despite taking the long route (the pass I planned to take was getting snow, so I opted to go around instead). My runner friend I stayed with all weekend was busy making us a steak, salad, and pasta dinner. Perfect pre-race food, in other words. She'd had opted not to run the race this year, so I had my own support crew/car and cheering section (at the finish line).
The race itself went far better than I could have ever hoped. The course itself is 13.3 miles. It starts out for 1.5 miles and 1000 vertical feet up a ski hill access road. From there, it traverses the ski hills from Snowmass Villiage to Aspen. Despite the first few miles, the race ends up 400 feet lower than it starts, so there is a great deal of downhill. While I wasn't as strong on the uphill this year as I had been last year when I ran the same race, I had practiced running downhill this summer, and so ended up doing much better on that section. The aptly-named "Golden Leaf Half" mostly winds through aspen groves, which at this time of year at 9000 feet are a bright gold. I came in at 1:53:20, 2.5 minutes slower than last year, for 47th place and 7th place in my age group (19-29).
And I can't tell you how nice it was to have somebody waiting at the finish. My friend had dropped me off at the start, gone for her own run, and was waiting right at the finish chute. I had absolutely nothing left by the end, and one person I had wanted to beat passed me in the last mile, ending one place ahead of me. Oddly enough, a friend of mine from Boulder came in 8 seconds and 1 place behind me. Suffice to say, I basically collapsed through the finish chute. But it was an excellent race for me.
The rest of the weekend was alternately fun, relaxing, and stressful. Since I was in Aspen, and I didn't want my legs to tighten up after the race, my friend and I went for an easy hike a few hours after the race. I realized after we were a ways in that, though I had been careful to charge my camera's battery before I left, I forgot to put it back in the camera. The only pics I have are from the drive back, where I used my somewhat nicer, larger camera. After the hike, we chilled out for about 4 hours (of Discovery Channel) before heading out for a prime rib dinner and a relaxing night at a pub.
On Sunday I set myself up in a coffee shop and worked on my research for my Masters Thesis.
At about 4, we took a short run from the house where I was staying, up to an aspen-filled valley. I again regretted the missing battery for my camera. It would have made some excellent pictures. But it was the perfect "shakeout" run for the day after a race.
This morning I drove back to Boulder via Independence Pass. This was the route I'd planned to take Friday when the weather did not cooperate. It shaves about 40 miles off the overall trip, bud doesn't save all that much time, since it's a twisting, switchback-filled road up to the continental divide and back down again. I do have some pictures (that help show why Lance Armstrong has been training in Aspen while prepping for his return to the Tour next July. No, I didn't see him) and I'll post those as soon as I get them onto my computer.
Any way, I'm back in Boulder, sore after some significant mileage this weekend, but feeling a lot better about pretty much everything than I was when I left. A good race will do that.
And I've caught an entirely different kind of running bug from any I've had before. There may be evidence of that later in this blog.
The race itself went far better than I could have ever hoped. The course itself is 13.3 miles. It starts out for 1.5 miles and 1000 vertical feet up a ski hill access road. From there, it traverses the ski hills from Snowmass Villiage to Aspen. Despite the first few miles, the race ends up 400 feet lower than it starts, so there is a great deal of downhill. While I wasn't as strong on the uphill this year as I had been last year when I ran the same race, I had practiced running downhill this summer, and so ended up doing much better on that section. The aptly-named "Golden Leaf Half" mostly winds through aspen groves, which at this time of year at 9000 feet are a bright gold. I came in at 1:53:20, 2.5 minutes slower than last year, for 47th place and 7th place in my age group (19-29).
And I can't tell you how nice it was to have somebody waiting at the finish. My friend had dropped me off at the start, gone for her own run, and was waiting right at the finish chute. I had absolutely nothing left by the end, and one person I had wanted to beat passed me in the last mile, ending one place ahead of me. Oddly enough, a friend of mine from Boulder came in 8 seconds and 1 place behind me. Suffice to say, I basically collapsed through the finish chute. But it was an excellent race for me.
The rest of the weekend was alternately fun, relaxing, and stressful. Since I was in Aspen, and I didn't want my legs to tighten up after the race, my friend and I went for an easy hike a few hours after the race. I realized after we were a ways in that, though I had been careful to charge my camera's battery before I left, I forgot to put it back in the camera. The only pics I have are from the drive back, where I used my somewhat nicer, larger camera. After the hike, we chilled out for about 4 hours (of Discovery Channel) before heading out for a prime rib dinner and a relaxing night at a pub.
On Sunday I set myself up in a coffee shop and worked on my research for my Masters Thesis.
At about 4, we took a short run from the house where I was staying, up to an aspen-filled valley. I again regretted the missing battery for my camera. It would have made some excellent pictures. But it was the perfect "shakeout" run for the day after a race.
This morning I drove back to Boulder via Independence Pass. This was the route I'd planned to take Friday when the weather did not cooperate. It shaves about 40 miles off the overall trip, bud doesn't save all that much time, since it's a twisting, switchback-filled road up to the continental divide and back down again. I do have some pictures (that help show why Lance Armstrong has been training in Aspen while prepping for his return to the Tour next July. No, I didn't see him) and I'll post those as soon as I get them onto my computer.
Any way, I'm back in Boulder, sore after some significant mileage this weekend, but feeling a lot better about pretty much everything than I was when I left. A good race will do that.
And I've caught an entirely different kind of running bug from any I've had before. There may be evidence of that later in this blog.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Sombrero
I ran the Sombrero Trail Run for the first time yesterday. On Friday I was optimistic about my chances of doing well. I went out for my normal 3-mile pre-race loop, and had to hold myself back from going too fast or too far. Meeting some friends that afternoon, I was very optimistic about the next morning.
Yesterday morning, I woke up, felt ok, and took off for Estes Park. I think one of my problems might have been the coffee I got on the way there (it was supposed to be an hour and fifteen minute drive, but it took slightly over 45 minutes total). In any case, I got to the course, picked up my number, and went out for a short warm up.
Let's just say I did not feel good. My legs felt more like deadweight than anything. By the time I got to the starting line and did some striders in order to warm up my fast twitch muscles, I felt like crap.
So I made a decision: rather than blow my legs out and try to make a race of it at the Sombrero, I decided to treat it as a training run, and hope my legs felt significantly better for the Golden Leaf half in two weeks.
For those who don't know, the Sombrero is a very odd distance (4.5 miles). It has a total of 900+ feet of elevation gain in that distance with a net gain of 200 or so feet. It's rocky, it's hard, and most people walk a significant portion of the hills. Were I to try and make a race out of it, I would blow out my quads entirely, with no guarantee of complete recovery by the time the Golden Leaf rolled around. I think I made the right decision given the situation.
In any case, I made a passable run of it, coming in at around 43 minutes or so. I didn't compete in my age group, and one woman beat me, but I did what I wanted to (hit between 42 and 43 minutes).
While not successful as a race, it was successful as a run. And, more importantly, it helped me catch the racing bug again.
Yesterday morning, I woke up, felt ok, and took off for Estes Park. I think one of my problems might have been the coffee I got on the way there (it was supposed to be an hour and fifteen minute drive, but it took slightly over 45 minutes total). In any case, I got to the course, picked up my number, and went out for a short warm up.
Let's just say I did not feel good. My legs felt more like deadweight than anything. By the time I got to the starting line and did some striders in order to warm up my fast twitch muscles, I felt like crap.
So I made a decision: rather than blow my legs out and try to make a race of it at the Sombrero, I decided to treat it as a training run, and hope my legs felt significantly better for the Golden Leaf half in two weeks.
For those who don't know, the Sombrero is a very odd distance (4.5 miles). It has a total of 900+ feet of elevation gain in that distance with a net gain of 200 or so feet. It's rocky, it's hard, and most people walk a significant portion of the hills. Were I to try and make a race out of it, I would blow out my quads entirely, with no guarantee of complete recovery by the time the Golden Leaf rolled around. I think I made the right decision given the situation.
In any case, I made a passable run of it, coming in at around 43 minutes or so. I didn't compete in my age group, and one woman beat me, but I did what I wanted to (hit between 42 and 43 minutes).
While not successful as a race, it was successful as a run. And, more importantly, it helped me catch the racing bug again.
Mesa Plus
I did end up doing the Mesa Trail last Saturday. My brother is town, so I took off a little earlier than usual and headed out on the full trail.
I've done pieces of this one before, but never the whole thing at once. In particular, I had never done the approach into Eldorado Springs before. So when I crested the ridge and looked at the broad, dirt road of a trail heading down, down, down into the canyon, awe at the view vied with despair at the downhill to come.
I was maybe 6 miles into the run at this point, not yet an hour of running, and most people might wonder at feeling despair at a downhill. However, it was a mile and a half of downhill which I would have to come back up on the way back to Chautauqua. Out and back runs make you dread the downhills as much as you do the uphill.
In any case, at 1:07, I reached the car park at the Eldorado Springs trailhead, and after a brief pause at the outhouse, I tapped the lap button on my watch and headed back towards Boulder and my car.
By the 11 or 12 mile mark, I was somewhat the worse for ware, no longer as adept at avoiding obstacles on the trail in front of my feet. Despite all that, I managed to pick up my heels and sprint down to my car at Chautauqua. The final time on my watch: 2:12. I took two minutes off my time on the way out, on the way back. That deduction despite the fact that the way back is in fact a net uphill.
I had hoped for a time of 2 hours or so for about 13 miles. While I didn't quite make that time, looking later I found that the full trail is in fact more than a half marathon. It is in fact a bit over 14 miles round trip. So I didn't quite make my goal pace, but it was a decent effort.
It took me a while to recover from that one.
As a side note, these are the records for Boulder Trails.
I've done pieces of this one before, but never the whole thing at once. In particular, I had never done the approach into Eldorado Springs before. So when I crested the ridge and looked at the broad, dirt road of a trail heading down, down, down into the canyon, awe at the view vied with despair at the downhill to come.
I was maybe 6 miles into the run at this point, not yet an hour of running, and most people might wonder at feeling despair at a downhill. However, it was a mile and a half of downhill which I would have to come back up on the way back to Chautauqua. Out and back runs make you dread the downhills as much as you do the uphill.
In any case, at 1:07, I reached the car park at the Eldorado Springs trailhead, and after a brief pause at the outhouse, I tapped the lap button on my watch and headed back towards Boulder and my car.
By the 11 or 12 mile mark, I was somewhat the worse for ware, no longer as adept at avoiding obstacles on the trail in front of my feet. Despite all that, I managed to pick up my heels and sprint down to my car at Chautauqua. The final time on my watch: 2:12. I took two minutes off my time on the way out, on the way back. That deduction despite the fact that the way back is in fact a net uphill.
I had hoped for a time of 2 hours or so for about 13 miles. While I didn't quite make that time, looking later I found that the full trail is in fact more than a half marathon. It is in fact a bit over 14 miles round trip. So I didn't quite make my goal pace, but it was a decent effort.
It took me a while to recover from that one.
As a side note, these are the records for Boulder Trails.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Upcoming Races
Looks like I'll be running in at least two races this month. Yesterday I signed up for the Sombrero Ranch Roundup. While it's only a 4.5 mile race, the time you get there is used directly as a qualifier for the Bolder Boulder. That should give you some idea of the difficulty of the race. According to my friend Jessica, who won her age group there last year, it's a good idea to get out quickly, because it quickly becomes single track where it's difficult to pass. In that sense, it sounds a little like the Golden Leaf (the second race I'm running this month).
It seems that recently my legs, and my mind, have gone through a bit of a re-emergence. I've finally been able to run consistently again for the past week or so. Given how much trouble I'd had with running over the summer, it's a welcome relief. Granted, I don't exactly expect to do all that well in my races this month, but it does bode well for being able to a half in, say, early November this year. At least, that's what I hope to do.
My goal for this week is to run the whole Mesa trail, as a bit of a sounding out of my legs for the Golden Leaf. Mesa is between 12 and 13 miles, and consistently either going uphill or down, so I think it should be a good indication of how my legs might be feeling during my half in Aspen. Here's hoping it goes well.
And I finally bought a water belt, which also carries my camera, so pictures will soon be on their way.
It seems that recently my legs, and my mind, have gone through a bit of a re-emergence. I've finally been able to run consistently again for the past week or so. Given how much trouble I'd had with running over the summer, it's a welcome relief. Granted, I don't exactly expect to do all that well in my races this month, but it does bode well for being able to a half in, say, early November this year. At least, that's what I hope to do.
My goal for this week is to run the whole Mesa trail, as a bit of a sounding out of my legs for the Golden Leaf. Mesa is between 12 and 13 miles, and consistently either going uphill or down, so I think it should be a good indication of how my legs might be feeling during my half in Aspen. Here's hoping it goes well.
And I finally bought a water belt, which also carries my camera, so pictures will soon be on their way.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Tight
Gotta say, at the moment, training is not going so well. The motivation is there, but the legs are not showing up.
Granted, for a very long time this summer, the motivation was not there for me, so I did not train as much. Add to that three long trips without much training, and there's not much of a mystery as to why I'm not at my peak.
Mostly, my hamstrings and calves are quite tight. Feels like I've got a golf ball in each calf now. I didn't make much more than a mile on the run this morning.
What does that mean for my race schedule? Well, I still want to try them all, I'm just going to have to go into them with little to no expectation of performance. Unfortunate, for somebody who usually expects a ton out of himself, but that's reality for the moment. I'll just keep plugging away, and train when I can.
Hopefully an ice bath and a break today will help. Meanwhile, I"m off to finish my summer research.
Granted, for a very long time this summer, the motivation was not there for me, so I did not train as much. Add to that three long trips without much training, and there's not much of a mystery as to why I'm not at my peak.
Mostly, my hamstrings and calves are quite tight. Feels like I've got a golf ball in each calf now. I didn't make much more than a mile on the run this morning.
What does that mean for my race schedule? Well, I still want to try them all, I'm just going to have to go into them with little to no expectation of performance. Unfortunate, for somebody who usually expects a ton out of himself, but that's reality for the moment. I'll just keep plugging away, and train when I can.
Hopefully an ice bath and a break today will help. Meanwhile, I"m off to finish my summer research.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Waay too hot
That's about the extent of it these days. The average high for this month in this part of CO has probably been between 85 and 95.
The result of this? It's been difficult for me to run lately. I end up getting up early (which is difficult for me, since my girlfriend both goes to bed and gets up a great deal later than I tend to) to try to run while it's still "cool." At this point, "cool" means anything below about 75 or so.
This Saturday, that meant getting up at 6:15, meeting my friend Jessica at 7:00, and then driving up up up into the mountains to do our run. Actually, I think this run only requires one or two ups. We ran at Betasso Preserve up the canyon a few miles. Instead of driving the whole way, we opted to take the Canyon Link Trail, which adds about 1.25 miles each way and maybe 500 feet of climbing. With two loops of the Betasso trail, that makes around 9-9.5 miles. And it took us somewhere around an hour and a half to do it. Not our best pace (we did about 10.5 in 1:20 last Saturday) but in our defense, it's not an easy trail.
Training over all? Not going quite as well as I'd hope this time of year, but there are signs that I'm getting better again. At the moment, I have two goal races: the Sombrero Trail Run, and the Golden Leaf Half in Aspen again. I'm leaving for a cross country road trip on Thursday, but we've scheduled time to run into that time, so hopefully that shouldn't be too much of a problem. We shall see.
The other goal for this year: Longs Peak. Late August.
Again, we shall see.
The result of this? It's been difficult for me to run lately. I end up getting up early (which is difficult for me, since my girlfriend both goes to bed and gets up a great deal later than I tend to) to try to run while it's still "cool." At this point, "cool" means anything below about 75 or so.
This Saturday, that meant getting up at 6:15, meeting my friend Jessica at 7:00, and then driving up up up into the mountains to do our run. Actually, I think this run only requires one or two ups. We ran at Betasso Preserve up the canyon a few miles. Instead of driving the whole way, we opted to take the Canyon Link Trail, which adds about 1.25 miles each way and maybe 500 feet of climbing. With two loops of the Betasso trail, that makes around 9-9.5 miles. And it took us somewhere around an hour and a half to do it. Not our best pace (we did about 10.5 in 1:20 last Saturday) but in our defense, it's not an easy trail.
Training over all? Not going quite as well as I'd hope this time of year, but there are signs that I'm getting better again. At the moment, I have two goal races: the Sombrero Trail Run, and the Golden Leaf Half in Aspen again. I'm leaving for a cross country road trip on Thursday, but we've scheduled time to run into that time, so hopefully that shouldn't be too much of a problem. We shall see.
The other goal for this year: Longs Peak. Late August.
Again, we shall see.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Back at it
Not sure what lead to it, exactly, but I seem to be back in form, if not shape entirely.
On Saturday, I went for a trail run with my friend Mark, who unfortunately will be leaving for Boston at the end of June. So in honor of his last couple weeks here, we went up to Walker Ranch Loop for a run. It's about a 8 mile trail, rife with mountain bikers, and with two considerable climbs. Not sure what the total elevation gain was, but it was reasonably significant. (according to one source, around 1200' over the course of 7.8 miles).
I don't know what it was about that run, but when I got back, even though my legs were exhausted, my will to run, and desire, was back.
Today, as an aftershot to the run above, I opted for Mt Sanitas. As usual, I went up Dakota ridge to East Ridge, and then down the main Mt Sanitas Trail. If I remember that one correctly, it's 1300' of vertical and the loop (from my house) is around 5 miles or so. Both the ascent up East Ridge and the descent down Mt Sanitas are technical and difficult (not sure I've ever managed to keep running the whole way up East Ridge).
After those two runs, my legs are a bit tired, a bit sore, but ready.
I'll have to figure out a way to take my camera on more runs. The views on most of them are quite incredible.
On Saturday, I went for a trail run with my friend Mark, who unfortunately will be leaving for Boston at the end of June. So in honor of his last couple weeks here, we went up to Walker Ranch Loop for a run. It's about a 8 mile trail, rife with mountain bikers, and with two considerable climbs. Not sure what the total elevation gain was, but it was reasonably significant. (according to one source, around 1200' over the course of 7.8 miles).
I don't know what it was about that run, but when I got back, even though my legs were exhausted, my will to run, and desire, was back.
Today, as an aftershot to the run above, I opted for Mt Sanitas. As usual, I went up Dakota ridge to East Ridge, and then down the main Mt Sanitas Trail. If I remember that one correctly, it's 1300' of vertical and the loop (from my house) is around 5 miles or so. Both the ascent up East Ridge and the descent down Mt Sanitas are technical and difficult (not sure I've ever managed to keep running the whole way up East Ridge).
After those two runs, my legs are a bit tired, a bit sore, but ready.
I'll have to figure out a way to take my camera on more runs. The views on most of them are quite incredible.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
2 months on
It has now been precisely 2 months since my last post. Unacceptable, I know, but posts about the daily drudge of training are not all that interesting, to write or to read.
That, and grad school really got in the way this spring. In early May, during finals, I think I got overly stressed, and my right leg completely tensed up. It was bad enough that I did not run for three+ weeks, and have only been running at this point for a week and a half (about four times a week). But I seem to be doing a fair bit better, so there's hope for this summer yet.
That said, this summer I am not doing my normal training group. I've decided to focus more on trail running and racing, and not do many road races any more. The only road race I have on my schedule at this point is the Pearl Street Mile at the beginning of September. One of my coaches has thrown down a challenge to race him, and hopefully that will be interesting.
Outside of that, my racing plans are: July 5, the Leadville Heavy Half Marathon, August 1-3, the Wild West Relay, September, Golden Leaf Half. We shall see what else comes up this summer. At this point, I'm not even sure I'll be able to do all of those, but we'll see what happens. The key for me right now is just to not run too much. I wore myself out once, and it's not worth it to me to do so again.
That, and grad school really got in the way this spring. In early May, during finals, I think I got overly stressed, and my right leg completely tensed up. It was bad enough that I did not run for three+ weeks, and have only been running at this point for a week and a half (about four times a week). But I seem to be doing a fair bit better, so there's hope for this summer yet.
That said, this summer I am not doing my normal training group. I've decided to focus more on trail running and racing, and not do many road races any more. The only road race I have on my schedule at this point is the Pearl Street Mile at the beginning of September. One of my coaches has thrown down a challenge to race him, and hopefully that will be interesting.
Outside of that, my racing plans are: July 5, the Leadville Heavy Half Marathon, August 1-3, the Wild West Relay, September, Golden Leaf Half. We shall see what else comes up this summer. At this point, I'm not even sure I'll be able to do all of those, but we'll see what happens. The key for me right now is just to not run too much. I wore myself out once, and it's not worth it to me to do so again.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Again from the NYT
The New York Times has an excellent periodic column called "Personal Best." More often that not, this column produces an interesting article, often quite applicable to running. The most recent one is quite interesting.
Yes, Running Can Make You High.
Check it out.
Yes, Running Can Make You High.
Check it out.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Spring Break
As the subject suggests, it is spring break at CU. It's much needed, on my end. Between some family issues, overall stress from work, and the acute stress from the frustration with my department, which I won't go into here, I need the break.
And so far it's been reasonably productive. I've managed to spend most of the time with friends thus far, and yet be productive at the same time. My apartment is looking (and feeling and smelling) fresher and cleaner than it has all winter. Part of that is due to the 60 degree weather and consequent opening of the windows, but much of it is due to two solid days of spring cleaning on the part of yours truly.
As far as running goes, as this is a running blog, it's been up and down. I was a little burnt out a couple weeks ago. I had been running between 42 and 50 miles a week for about 4 or 5 weeks (5, actually) and took one week at 25 miles, and then a week almost entirely off. The 25 mile week I also added a game of Ultimate Frisbee with some friends from the EE department, which reminded me that, with all the running I've been doing, I've neglected some other leg, not to mention upper body, muscles. I don't know that my legs have every been that sore.
It reminded me that, as much as I love running, I really love so many other sports that it's a shame for me to neglect them as much as I have. And I let myself get burnt out running, which is a danger we all face.
In any case, it caused me to rethink a few plans. I still plan to run the Gary Bjorklund half marathon in June (back to the hometown!), but after that, I plan to start mixing things up a little bit. I still plan to run fairly heavily, moving more to trail running in anticipating the Golden Leaf this year, but I want to branch out and do some other activities as well: climbing, frisbee, etcetera . . .
This is, of course, all dependent on what I find to do this summer. Hopefully that'll be a job at NREL, but we'll have to see about that.
And so far it's been reasonably productive. I've managed to spend most of the time with friends thus far, and yet be productive at the same time. My apartment is looking (and feeling and smelling) fresher and cleaner than it has all winter. Part of that is due to the 60 degree weather and consequent opening of the windows, but much of it is due to two solid days of spring cleaning on the part of yours truly.
As far as running goes, as this is a running blog, it's been up and down. I was a little burnt out a couple weeks ago. I had been running between 42 and 50 miles a week for about 4 or 5 weeks (5, actually) and took one week at 25 miles, and then a week almost entirely off. The 25 mile week I also added a game of Ultimate Frisbee with some friends from the EE department, which reminded me that, with all the running I've been doing, I've neglected some other leg, not to mention upper body, muscles. I don't know that my legs have every been that sore.
It reminded me that, as much as I love running, I really love so many other sports that it's a shame for me to neglect them as much as I have. And I let myself get burnt out running, which is a danger we all face.
In any case, it caused me to rethink a few plans. I still plan to run the Gary Bjorklund half marathon in June (back to the hometown!), but after that, I plan to start mixing things up a little bit. I still plan to run fairly heavily, moving more to trail running in anticipating the Golden Leaf this year, but I want to branch out and do some other activities as well: climbing, frisbee, etcetera . . .
This is, of course, all dependent on what I find to do this summer. Hopefully that'll be a job at NREL, but we'll have to see about that.
Monday, February 25, 2008
In Mourning
So I lost a dear friend of many years this morning.
My blue Yoko hat, which I have had for 8 years, was taken this morning while I was on my run. As I do pretty much every morning, I wore my hat for the first ten minutes of my run, then left it on a fence post to collect on my way back. On the way back, the hat was gone.
Now, as most runners do, I have quite an array of hats in my possession, collected from various races, training clubs, teams, and sponsors. However, this was a very special hat. I received it my senior year from my XC ski coach, who gave them to each captain. Since then, this hat has traveled with me everywhere I go, including several countries in Europe and most US states. I wore this hat on every run that merited a hat for the past 8 years, and running will not be the same without it.
Whoever took it, you'd best hope I never see you wearing it, because I take no responsibility for my actions should I see you.
Oh yes, and the hat can be seen in the picture here.
My blue Yoko hat, which I have had for 8 years, was taken this morning while I was on my run. As I do pretty much every morning, I wore my hat for the first ten minutes of my run, then left it on a fence post to collect on my way back. On the way back, the hat was gone.
Now, as most runners do, I have quite an array of hats in my possession, collected from various races, training clubs, teams, and sponsors. However, this was a very special hat. I received it my senior year from my XC ski coach, who gave them to each captain. Since then, this hat has traveled with me everywhere I go, including several countries in Europe and most US states. I wore this hat on every run that merited a hat for the past 8 years, and running will not be the same without it.
Whoever took it, you'd best hope I never see you wearing it, because I take no responsibility for my actions should I see you.
Oh yes, and the hat can be seen in the picture here.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Mt Sanitas
I went on one of my favorite runs yesterday: up Dakota Ridge and down the Sanitas Valley Trail. While I'd prefer to tackle Mt Sanitas itself, I didn't have the legs for it yesterday. In fact, my legs are rather sore after my 50 mile week last week, so I've opted to take today off. While it's not my preferred option, I think it's smarter.
In any case, I took my camera for once. I've discovered that my camera is light and small enough that I can just carry it in one hand and it doesn't affect my running. So here are a few pics from yesterday.
Any way, the first pic above is looking down from the highest point on the run. This is where I had my epiphany on why I run (there's a post on it well down there somewhere.
Above is looking south from the same spot, down towards the valley itself with the flatirons in the background.
Looking down the valley again, from a little lower. I love this part, because the trail is so nice that I can just cruise down the valley. I've pulled 4:30 miles down this thing before (doesn't count as a PR when it's all downhill). I got a few strange looks when I did that.I'll try to add pictures of my other normal runs now that I have at least a decent way of taking my camera along. Hope you liked it.
Monday, February 11, 2008
It Seems to be Working
So about a month ago, I started a program to significantly increase my mileage while not overtraining. This basically involves a series of 4-week segments (increase, drop a bit, increase more, go really easy) of easy distance running. I've done a hill workout or two in there as well, as a little extra strength training, but I have not purposefully done any speed work.
So far, it seems to be working. My legs, after last week, feel pretty good after the first cycle. This week kicks off the first week of my second four week cycle, and so is a very long week in which I intend to run 50 or so miles.
So, the results. So far, I haven't raced since I started the program. I had the chance to yesterday, but opted not to due to the long workout the day before. Saturday, the long workout, I ran about 12 miles. The first 8 were at 8 minute mile pace (in a the craziest wind I've ever run in). The last four I decided to pick up the tempo "a bit." I completely surprised myself by pulling the last four in 23:40, which works out to 5:55 miles.
I've never run a 5k that fast. And here, at the end of my longest run of the week, I pull off 4 miles at that pace. It seems as though my training might just be working.
So far, it seems to be working. My legs, after last week, feel pretty good after the first cycle. This week kicks off the first week of my second four week cycle, and so is a very long week in which I intend to run 50 or so miles.
So, the results. So far, I haven't raced since I started the program. I had the chance to yesterday, but opted not to due to the long workout the day before. Saturday, the long workout, I ran about 12 miles. The first 8 were at 8 minute mile pace (in a the craziest wind I've ever run in). The last four I decided to pick up the tempo "a bit." I completely surprised myself by pulling the last four in 23:40, which works out to 5:55 miles.
I've never run a 5k that fast. And here, at the end of my longest run of the week, I pull off 4 miles at that pace. It seems as though my training might just be working.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
It's never too cold
It's been a little cool here in Boulder lately, with highs generally not topping freezing, and several 0 degree mornings. This has, naturally enough, led to a certain amount of complaining that "it's too cold to train."
I have never subscribed to that philosophy, being Northern-Minnesota born and bred. Our XC skiing races were never canceled until it was -29 degrees or below. Thus it bugs me a little bit when people try to say that it's too cold to train. It's never too cold to train.
On another, related note, I very much like this column in the NYT. It's called "Personal Best," and it often has very interesting topics. I will continue to post whenever I find something interesting on the site.
I have never subscribed to that philosophy, being Northern-Minnesota born and bred. Our XC skiing races were never canceled until it was -29 degrees or below. Thus it bugs me a little bit when people try to say that it's too cold to train. It's never too cold to train.
On another, related note, I very much like this column in the NYT. It's called "Personal Best," and it often has very interesting topics. I will continue to post whenever I find something interesting on the site.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Destinations v. Journies
The age old comparison of the journey versus the destination: which is more important? Now that I'm working towards a specific goal race (assuming I get into the race in the first place) it's become a more interesting and important question to me.
On one hand, if I'm going to run the race I want to run, at the pace I want to, I have to focus very closely on that goal, the destination. If I don't keep that in mind, and convince myself that I can do it, then there is no chance I'll succeed. Every day, week, and month has to be planned with the ultimate goal in mind. If I lose sight of that, I won't run the race I plan to .
On the other hand, by doing that, I risk losing sight of why I run in the first place. That was detailed in an earlier post, probably some time in mid-November. And if I lose sight of why I run, I won't enjoy it any more. I run simply to run, because I love it. But the constant straining towards a goal risks upsetting that.
I'm sure every runner has methods of mixing up so as to not lose sight of running for racing. I have a few methods I like to use. At least two, sometimes three days a week, I leave the watch behind, don't really plan a distance, and just go out for a run at whatever pace feels good to me that day. When I can, I'll take trips in order to run in to places (last summer I did a run in Rocky Mountain National Park, as well as several in the Indian Peaks Wilderness). I like to keep it fresh. Most of my runs take place in familiar locations along often-repeated routes, but changing it every so often keeps me interested in the scenery, and not just the act of putting one foot in front of the other for what might be as long as four hours.
I think I take the position of many when I decide that the journey, not the destination, is often the most important part of any process, whether it's a trip or a training program. If we focus too much on the destination and not enough on the journey itself, we risk missing the destination entirely. If I don't run my time for the half this summer, but enjoy the training process and still love to run at the end of it, I'll consider that a success.
This was put more succinctly on my favorite TV show of all time, Firefly (curse you fox for cancelling it!)
"Why don't you care where the ships are going?"
"Because the journey is the worthier part."
On one hand, if I'm going to run the race I want to run, at the pace I want to, I have to focus very closely on that goal, the destination. If I don't keep that in mind, and convince myself that I can do it, then there is no chance I'll succeed. Every day, week, and month has to be planned with the ultimate goal in mind. If I lose sight of that, I won't run the race I plan to .
On the other hand, by doing that, I risk losing sight of why I run in the first place. That was detailed in an earlier post, probably some time in mid-November. And if I lose sight of why I run, I won't enjoy it any more. I run simply to run, because I love it. But the constant straining towards a goal risks upsetting that.
I'm sure every runner has methods of mixing up so as to not lose sight of running for racing. I have a few methods I like to use. At least two, sometimes three days a week, I leave the watch behind, don't really plan a distance, and just go out for a run at whatever pace feels good to me that day. When I can, I'll take trips in order to run in to places (last summer I did a run in Rocky Mountain National Park, as well as several in the Indian Peaks Wilderness). I like to keep it fresh. Most of my runs take place in familiar locations along often-repeated routes, but changing it every so often keeps me interested in the scenery, and not just the act of putting one foot in front of the other for what might be as long as four hours.
I think I take the position of many when I decide that the journey, not the destination, is often the most important part of any process, whether it's a trip or a training program. If we focus too much on the destination and not enough on the journey itself, we risk missing the destination entirely. If I don't run my time for the half this summer, but enjoy the training process and still love to run at the end of it, I'll consider that a success.
This was put more succinctly on my favorite TV show of all time, Firefly (curse you fox for cancelling it!)
"Why don't you care where the ships are going?"
"Because the journey is the worthier part."
New Beginnings
I started my second semester of grad school in EE yesterday. My schedule is very odd, and I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to mesh it with my running schedule yet. Tuesday and Thursday I am pretty much swamped from 8-6. It's going to be rather difficult to get a run or two in around the lab sessions that I both take and teach. On the plus side, MWF are pretty free days for me, so I should be able to get enough in on those days.
On the theme of new beginnings, I'm also beginning my next six-month training period. My goal race for this is the Gary Bjorkland Half Marathon on June 21st. For those who don't know, that's the half marathon that corresponds to Gradma's Marathon in Duluth, Minnesota. Having grown up watching the marathon (and half) every year, and never having run it, I'm looking forward to finally putting my name in the lottery. Granted, I'm not certain to get in, but being a first time runner, from out of town, and with the possibility of posting a good time, I have a better chance than many.
My goal pace is 6 minute miles, putting me at a final time of 1:18:40 or so. I figure this is well within my reach, since I'll be coming down from altitude for the race, and I know I can post a 10k of that pace up here. That still won't put me all that far up in the standings, though. I believe the winner last year came in at around 1:05.
So in the interest of posting a good time, I'm focusing on this race for the next 6 months. During the next 3, I'm going to increase my mileage from where it stands now (around 40 miles a week) to around 70. I don't even need to increase my mileage that much each week to do so. Around 6% a week will get me there right on time.
We shall see how that works. My coach is of the opinion that I haven't even come close to touching my potential yet. The friends who know me as a runner think the same.
As my friend Sonya (who's blog is linked at right) says "You have to believe it so much you get goosebumps every time you think about it."
On the theme of new beginnings, I'm also beginning my next six-month training period. My goal race for this is the Gary Bjorkland Half Marathon on June 21st. For those who don't know, that's the half marathon that corresponds to Gradma's Marathon in Duluth, Minnesota. Having grown up watching the marathon (and half) every year, and never having run it, I'm looking forward to finally putting my name in the lottery. Granted, I'm not certain to get in, but being a first time runner, from out of town, and with the possibility of posting a good time, I have a better chance than many.
My goal pace is 6 minute miles, putting me at a final time of 1:18:40 or so. I figure this is well within my reach, since I'll be coming down from altitude for the race, and I know I can post a 10k of that pace up here. That still won't put me all that far up in the standings, though. I believe the winner last year came in at around 1:05.
So in the interest of posting a good time, I'm focusing on this race for the next 6 months. During the next 3, I'm going to increase my mileage from where it stands now (around 40 miles a week) to around 70. I don't even need to increase my mileage that much each week to do so. Around 6% a week will get me there right on time.
We shall see how that works. My coach is of the opinion that I haven't even come close to touching my potential yet. The friends who know me as a runner think the same.
As my friend Sonya (who's blog is linked at right) says "You have to believe it so much you get goosebumps every time you think about it."
Monday, January 7, 2008
Highway 61 Revisited
Yes, I know it's a Bob Dylan album. But, for Christmas, I returned to my home: Minnesota. I grew up (and started running) on the shore of Lake Superior. This specific break, my parents were not living in the house I grew up in, but rather 20-some minutes up the north shore, off the fabled Highway 61. They live between the 5 and 6 mile mark of Grandma's Marathon (I plan to run the half marathon this summer, if I can scrape up the money to fly home and do so). In any case, this meant that I went for several runs up Highway 61.
Unfortunately, what I didn't know was that I went out with the wind. By the time I turned back, 5 and a half miles up the road at 40 minutes (right at the starting line of the marathon) I was soaked to the skin. On turning around, I realized that the temperature had dropped, and the rain had turned to snow. By the time I got back to my parents' house, I could no longer move either of my hands.
One of the dumber moves I've ever made. . .
To the right is a pic of me after that run. You can't really see it in this pic, but it was snowing heavily by this point and I was covered in it. By the end of the next day we'd gotten some 10 inches or so. My hands are quite literally stuck to my sides. I had to mold them into position in order to get that pose. Even now, I can still feel the damage I did to my right arm.
For the rest of the trip, I didn't get a whole lot of running in. Among other problems, we had two decent snow storms during the vacation, which precluded running for those days. Add to that taking Christmas off, and I didn't have a whole lot of time to train. The trip back in a car didn't help either.
However, once I got back to Boulder, and once my family left, I quickly got back into it. On Friday, I went out for a "40 minute" run. Having a fair amount on my mind, the 40 minutes ended up being 56. I went out 4 miles in 30, and came back in 26, for an average pace of 7 minute miles.
I'm back . ..
One in particular sticks in my memory, and in my right arm. I was scheduled for a two hour run the Saturday I got back. When I got up, it was about 35 and raining. By the time I was ready to run, it was about 40. At that temperature, I decided to wear shorts and go out for an 80 minute run.
Unfortunately, what I didn't know was that I went out with the wind. By the time I turned back, 5 and a half miles up the road at 40 minutes (right at the starting line of the marathon) I was soaked to the skin. On turning around, I realized that the temperature had dropped, and the rain had turned to snow. By the time I got back to my parents' house, I could no longer move either of my hands.
One of the dumber moves I've ever made. . .
To the right is a pic of me after that run. You can't really see it in this pic, but it was snowing heavily by this point and I was covered in it. By the end of the next day we'd gotten some 10 inches or so. My hands are quite literally stuck to my sides. I had to mold them into position in order to get that pose. Even now, I can still feel the damage I did to my right arm.For the rest of the trip, I didn't get a whole lot of running in. Among other problems, we had two decent snow storms during the vacation, which precluded running for those days. Add to that taking Christmas off, and I didn't have a whole lot of time to train. The trip back in a car didn't help either.
However, once I got back to Boulder, and once my family left, I quickly got back into it. On Friday, I went out for a "40 minute" run. Having a fair amount on my mind, the 40 minutes ended up being 56. I went out 4 miles in 30, and came back in 26, for an average pace of 7 minute miles.
I'm back . ..
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