Two by Green

My legs were aching with every step, my breath was a bit ragged, and I had laughed off the last person who said "you look strong," followed by a "there's no way I could ever do that." I felt like I was shuffling along at a snail's pace, fighting for every step, and was perfectly aware of the packed snow/ice mixture on the trail in front of me. I wondered for perhaps the 20th time in the past two miles why I ever thought this would be a good idea.

I had a little extra time this past Saturday. The forecast had a high of 75 and sunny skies, with remarkably little wind.  I was coming off of what was already a tough week for me, mileage-wise.

I decided it was time for a bit of a fitness test.

I've run up Green Mountain a number of times in the past few months, and thought that a good test would be to do the 8.5 mile Green Mountain loop, up Amp/Saddle/Greenman and down Green Bear/Bear Canyon back to Mesa, and back to the start. This would give me 5000 or so feet of climbing on a 17 mile run, which I thought would be both a good fitness test and doable.

So come Saturday morning, later than many head out, I popped a couple gels in my pockets, filled up my hand-held with water, and grabbed a bit of dried mango (my preferred summit snack) and drove up to Chautauqua, wondering if this was really that good an idea after a pretty hard week capped by a hard 7 miles the night before.

As expected, Chautauqua's parking lot was already full to overflowing, and I parked on Baseline. I was joined the first half mile across the meadow by a runner from Kansas, in town for a few days, who I duly directed up Gregory Canyon. Ever since the relative publicity around Anton's Green Mountain Project, it's been the go-to climb for trail runners visiting Boulder.

I took the first time up easy, knowing that I'd have to do it again in another hour. Even so, I was surprised by how quickly I was moving and how easy the pace felt. Nevertheless, I was surprised and slowed by snow on Greenman. Until that point, I had been around PR pace, but the snow combined with my own lack of foresight at not bringing traction slowed me down to the point where I hit the top at just under 50 minutes. Slow, but not shamefully so given how much I was slipping and sliding (and walking) on the upper reaches.

A quick snack at the summit, and I was off down the upper reaches of Ranger, feeling good and moving quickly. I gave a wave and greeting to the runner I'd directed up Gregory, and headed down Green Bear.  I made it quickly down to Bear Canyon, and was surprised again by how much ice was left on the trail. One good spill left me with a bloody knee and some missing skin on my thigh. Nevertheless, I quickly made it back down to Mesa, and jogged the two or so miles back to the ranger cottage to refill my water bottle.

I opted this time to head up Gregory Canyon, hoping this route might have less snow. Immediately on hitting the uphill, I realized this was going to be a slog. The combination of the big week and the previous climb was catching up with me (why did I run Flagstaff three times the past week?), and I was in for a suffer fest.

Even so, I kept a running cadence the whole way up Gregory to the first stretch of snow on Ranger. Somewhere on this stretch I saw a hiker coming down telling me I looked "strong." And I laughed him off.

After a bit more hiking on the snowy section, I eventually made it to the summit again, giving it a good push up the last, steep stretch and summit a second time.

I had to take a break at this point. My legs were shot, and shaking, and I took a few minutes to rest before I noticed a coworker sitting a few feet away. Turns out, he and another friend of mine were playing a gig in Golden that night, and I made a note to stop by for  a while.

That would prove the best decision I made all day. The gig was a series of 4 different groups, all of whom were quite good. My only regret is that I forgot to bring my fiddle, as my friend's Bluegrass group was in need of one.

And if you're wondering if I forgot the last downhill, I'm doing my best.

It was not pretty. But I did the whole run.

CU Barefoot Study

CU's barefoot running study just got written up in the New York Times. 

"Well Trained" might have have been an overstatement at the time.

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/03/21/making-the-case-for-running-shoes/?ref=health

Katoa Waist Pack Review.

Several weeks ago, I got fed up with having far too much space in my GoLite Rush hydration pack. I loved some features of it: the gel storage on the waist belt, the dual water bottle capability, and the bungee on the back, but I was fed up with having to stuff extra gear in it so that the gear I actually needed would stay put until I had use for it.

A friend of mine here in Boulder had been raving for some time about Ultimate Direction for some time. I had a gift card to Amazon, so I opted to use it on a Katoa pack from UD. I had actually purchased one of Ultimate Directions original products years ago, for my high school cross country ski needs. Needless to say, the Katoa is a bit more sophisticated than a waist belt with a pouch for a water bottle.

After the test run.

My first thought when I took it out of the box was "I'm glad I didn't get the bigger version!"

The Katoa has about a liter and a half of storage, in two small compartments nestled between two water bottle holders (bottles included, kicker caps and all). 1.5L is a fair amount of storage, fitting my admittedly small camera and a couple food items easily. I can easily see putting both a bigger camera and a sandwich in the larger pocket, a couple bars in the smaller pocket, and heading out for a 20+ miler in the mountains without too much worry. Additionally, there are two pockets on the waist belt itself: perfectly sized for about two gels each.

Unfortunately, just after I got this pack, I also started feeling twinges of Plantar Fascitis, and took a week without doing a long run, so this morning was the first chance I had to test the pack, as well as the famed "kicker caps," or more informally, "nipples." I loaded up the water bottles, threw a gel in the belt pocket, a couple bars in the small pocket, and my camera in the larger pocket, and still had extra room.  With that in place, I strapped it around my waist, and headed out for a Dirty Bismark Loop, a 15 mile loop around Marshall Mesa here in Boulder, popular with runners and mountain bikers alike now that the loop is complete.

I always have a couple concerns about belts and waist packs. The first , in no particular order, is how stable it will be when it's loaded up. I found the Katoa to be surprisingly stable. It never felt like it was moving around the whole run. It sits pretty high on the waist, but even so does not impede breathing at all, a problem I have had with other waist packs as well as hydration packs. I did not even notice it irritating the scar on my back that has been a problem with many, many other packs (I had a mole removed, the cause of the scar, because of the same issue).

The second concern is if it will affect the way I swing my arms. This is a bit more of a concern with this pack, as the water bottles do stick out a bit on the sides. I did hit them just a couplet times over the 15 miles, but found that my natural arm swing is, in general, just wide of the tips of the water bottles. I would not want to wear this for a 200 meter dash, but then I'm not likely to do so.

Finally, and critically, I am concerned about the ease of drawing, and replacing the water bottles. This was the best part about this pack. With the Rush, I've had trouble reaching the bottles behind my back, and putting them back again, even with extremely flexible shoulders. With the Katoa, I just reached my hand back and the bottle was there, and reached back again to drop it back into the holster.

There are a few other things to note. This was my first "kicker cap" experience. I have heard that you either love them or you hate them. Personally I love them. All you have to do is pull on the rubber "nipple," aim in the general direction of your mouth, and squeeze. I barely have to interrupt my breathing to take a drink! The only downside is that the loop on the cap (visible in the picture above) sometimes dug into my back if they were oriented the wrong way. A few seconds with a hack saw should take care of that, though.

Over all, an excellent pack, and I can't wait to try it on some of my longer runs (fourteeners anybody? gotta train for the Pikes Peak race) and give it a real test run. I suspect that it will also be my pack for the aforementioned Pikes Peak Marathon.

A different view of the Flatirons than I often get on my runs.
I like this perspective.

As for the run itself, that was, for the most part, excellent. After two relatively easy, low mileage weeks, my PF seems to have mostly subsided. I only felt it on a few stretches during the 15 miles I put in today, and more importantly I was walking around normally afterwards, without the splitting heel pain that I have gotten after some other runs.

I made good time through the first half of the run (headed counterclockwise from Coalton Trailhead), hitting an easy-seeming 8 minute pace even once I hit the singletrack portion. Then I turned up along the Greenbelt Plateau trail and straight into the wind, moving from an easy 8 minute pace to a hard 9:30 in the space of a few minutes.

I made up for it, though, once I had the wind at my back, bringing it down to a legitimate 6:30 and having fun with it. I made it back to the trailhead at about 1:57 for 14.8 miles with (reportedly) 1500' of vertical for the day (I'm not sure I believe that particular stat, but it could be true). I can definitely say now that I am in much better shape now than I was when prepping for the Leadville race last summer.

The same view as above, but I wanted to get Longs/Meeker in there. It's amazing to me just how big those two mountains are compared to everything else around them. They're on my list for the summer. 

Now, after a sunny warm morning, the clouds have rolled in, and the wind has picked up. It looks like it might be a good day to go skiing tomorrow. Thankfully I am taking the day off from work.

Pikes Peak

Well, it's official: I registered yesterday for the Pikes Peak marathon.

Now all I have to do to win is beat Matt Carpenter, Kilian Jornet, and Anton Krupicka.

Right . . .

Ups and Downs

One of the things I love, and hate, about running, and something that any runner will tell you, is that running forces you to deal with the down times as much as it rewards you with the good times. I have had my share of each in the past week or so.

After my triple hogback, with its accompanying fast mile, I rode a high for the next few days. The day after, I was quite naturally tired and took it crazily easy. Tuesday, I hit the trail again with the Tuesday Tempo Run, and went up Sanitas via Dakota Ridge and East Ridge in the same time as I had summited via the Sanitas trail during the Hogback run. I was pleased with myself after that run for having caught two other runners on the way up, and finished third out of the group.

Just the next day, I had a great day out with the Boulder Running Company Wednesday night Fun Run. We started  out fairly slow, and gradually picked up the tempo until mile four, where two newbies decided to take off, dropping the pace to  6:15. Nobody in the front group was having any of that, however, and we quickly reeled them back in to finish the 5 1/4 mile loop in just under 36 minutes.

I figured that wasn't bad considering the tempo run of the previous day, and was again feeling pretty good.

Unfortunately, after that run I started to hit a low. I was getting twinges in my right heel that, as any runner will tell you, are the first sign of plantar fascitis. I took Thursday easy, and Friday and Saturday off. In the meantime I stretched my calves, took some anti-inflammatory meds, iced, and did a few other exercises.

The PF seemed to clear up pretty well, and by Sunday I was back on a (short) run again. It is not completely better yet, but it does seem to be headed that direction. I take it as a sign that it does not hurt in the morning, which is the worst time for most people with this condition. It hurts a bit at the moment, but that might be more understandable by the end of this post.

After taking Sunday and Monday pretty easy, Monday hitting the road with the Fleet Feet run, I decided to hit Sanitas again on Tuesday. I had had a very difficult, stressful day at work, and needed to let off some steam. So I decided to test myself on Sanitas, a route I had never really pushed before.

I took it out hard, even though my legs were not feeling great. Within seconds, I was breathing hard and feeling like my gut might explode. But I pushed through it (and occasionally had to brush by some of the more oblivious hikers), and made it to the top in 19:33, which from this point on will be my benchmark. This makes me yet more impressed with Kilian Jornet's 14:12 on this trail, and equally so with Rickey Gates's 14:28. Those two are impressive.

I eased down East Ridge, since my legs were still fatigued, and pushed it a bit down the valley to hit the lap in a 35:44. Not great, but not terrible either. And a good mar to try and beat later.

With that, I figured I would not be running all that quickly today, for the Wednesday night run . Nevertheless, I struck out with the lead group, there were four of us this week, down from seven the week before, and soon enough we were hitting 7:10, then 6:50, then 6:35 by mile 2. We kept a remarkably consistent 6:35 pace until the last mile, when we picked it up again, coming in to the 5 1/4 mark at 35:09, a full 40 seconds faster at a much more consistent pace than last week.

As I said, my PF is acting up just a bit tonight, a sure sign that tomorrow will be very easy, but with any luck it will keep getting better, just so long as I keep taking care of it.

Up, down, up, and down. Such is a runner's life.

A Random Day

Around noon today, I was up northwest of Boulder, on a winding road of the type I used to love to bike  up, replete with switchback and insane grades, wondering whether I should go up and right, up and left, or down and straight. I asked an almost-too-stereotypical bearded, gaunt, grey-haired old-timer if he knew where the trailhead might be, to have him shake his head and say "I don't think there is one around here."

Earlier that day I had decided to do something I haven't done much since winter started: run a route I've never done before. Not only was this a route I had not done before, I also did not quite know what it entailed. It had been a while since I'd had a running adventure, and I felt in dire need of one. 

Of course, this was noon, and that was long after my titular random day had started.  Around eight this morning, I woke up wondering if I was actually going to follow through with my idea of running a half marathon at ten. I had taken the week easy after feeling a little flat earlier in the week, and learned about the half on Friday. I figured since I'd already basically tapered, if unintentionally, and since I needed a qualifying time for Pikes Peak, I might as well jog one this particular morning. But I was wavering when I woke up in the morning. After some nudging from my gf, I opted to give it a shot, and headed down to Cherry Creek Reservoir to register and run. 

As I pulled up to the parking lot, I felt the familiar stirrings of excitement and nerves creeping up from my stomach, and realized that not only was I going to run a half, I was going to race a half. My legs felt pretty good after a relatively light week, and  I wanted to see just what I could do in a half that wasn't at 8000 feet with 2000 feet of vertical in the first half of the race. 

I thought I was going to race, any way. I got to the registration table, found out that they only took checks, and after making a somewhat snarky comment (I apologize) walked back to my car to drive back to Boulder. 

I decided, after being unable to contact any of my running partners, to run a triple hogback loop. I had heard about it from a few other runners out here, and it sounded like a good little run. I knew it went up Sanitas, out the far side, and then somehow connected (partly via trail) over to the Hogback Loop north of the Dakota Ridge houses. I took a quick glance at Google Maps and decided that the connecting road was North Cedar Brook, figured I knew enough, and drove over to Wonderland Lake trail head to star out. 

After a quick stop by Lucky's Market for a couple gels (somehow between Cherry Creek and Boulder I had misplaced several) I was off.  I took 4th street at a relatively quick 7min pace, with my legs feeling ok but not great, at cut over Dakota Ridge down to the Mount Sanitas Trailhead to take on the first hogback of the day. 

Sanitas was about what I expected: crammed with hikers, but surprisingly no other runners, out enjoying the gorgeous day. Did I mention it hit 65 on my run? Despite the crush of hikers, and thanks to their generally courteous attitudes, I hit the top in a surprisingly decent 20 minutes. After popping a gel and a quick swig of water, I was off down the East Ridge. This was one of the few places I encountered ice all day, which slowed me down quite a bit for a descent (not decent) time of 10 minutes. 

First HogBack

At what Johannes (of Boulder Trail Runners Tuesday Tempo Run fame) calls the Visitor Center, I took a trail that pops out amid a few of the larger houses around, and found myself running down South Cedar Brook Road. I took this to Linden, up Linden to North Cedar Brook, and at the top of that I found myself unsure of where to go next. This is where I ran into the old timer and got his unhelpful answer. 

There was not a good "scenic" spot to take a picture on the second hogback, but I liked this mirror. I'm the green dot in the center.

After a few exploratory jaunts up the various options, I ran down (straight) Cedar Brook, past a "no outlook" sign, and found myself on Ridge Road, which looked promising. Sure enough, this road soon dead-ended at the start of Old Kiln Trail, a trail I had passed many times running near Wonderland Lake but had never ventured up. After passing the Old Kiln, and unfortunately neglecting to take a picture, I found myself back on familiar ground, heading past the Dakota Ridge subdivision and on to the aptly-named Hogback Loop. 

Wonderland Lake, from the top of the Hogback Loop.

I had forgotten how technical the singletrack on this trail was, and found myself occasionally stumbling on rocks and sliding on the small patches of snow that still lingered on the trail. But soon enough I made it up to the top ridge of the hogback, and after my second gel and the last of my water, I took off down the slope for the home stretch.

Despite my legs being tired by this point, I had decided early on that I was going to put out a good effort on the last few relatively flat and very nontechnical miles. My legs were tired enough at this point, a bit over ten miles into a run with a fair amount of vertical thrown in, that I assumed "good effort" would mean something around 8 minute pace on these trails. 

Thus, I was very surprised during this section when I looked down at my GPS watch, which normally reads a little slow pace-wise, and was clocking 6:30 pace. I was running with a slight downhill, but into the wind, and was utterly surprised by the pace.  Since my legs felt like they had a bit more in them, I decided to see just how much I could push the pace over the last couple miles. There were sections, uphill into a brisk wind, that I hit almost 8 minute pace. 

On the other side of the coin, the last mile I absolutely flew. My last mile clocked in at 5:19, making it the fastest mile I've run (that was not entirely downhill) since moved to Boulder. You can probably guess where my confidence went at this point. 

It got me thinking, also, that I might be shortchanging myself in races. I wonder now what I could have run in the half, had I been able to do so this morning. It also makes me think strongly that my sometimes disappointing results in races up to this point can be traced to a mental block, where I don't think I can run as quickly as I actually can. 

It certainly bears more exploring. 

It also makes me want to race.