Let Me Tell You a Story…Stories Ultra 15 Hour

Cheyenne Mountain State Park

This weekend I tried something different. I signed up for a trail ultra, and I survived.

It’s been years since I ran a trail ultra. That’s pretty much all I did when I started doing ultras in the 1990s, there were almost no road ultras in Colorado back then. I enjoy trails, but I’m not that good at them, and I prefer to slow down so I can look at the scenery. Also, high altitude is not my friend, I discovered, after years of doing 14ers, four Leadville Trail 100 finishes in 29+ hours, and always struggling with my stomach and sleepwalking on rocky trails in the dark.

Then I started having ankle problems after a few good sprains, and had to avoid trails altogether for several years. Once I got my butt into physical therapy and rehabbed my ankles, I started doing easy trail runs, just the smooth, groomed or nontechnical trails I could find, and the Rock Repeats on the service road up Horsetooth Mountain which has just a few very short rocky sections.

It wasn’t anything I expected and I just happened to be on Facebook one evening and saw that one of our local Colorado race directors, Sherpa John Lacroix, was doing a live video so I tuned in and he was talking about his Human Potential running series of trail ultras in Colorado.  I’d seen something about his Silverheels 100 and the Fairplay races. When we had our cabin in Como we used to hike up Silverheels and on those trails back there between Fairplay, Como, and Breckenridge. Back in the day, I would have jumped all over that, but I hadn’t paid any attention to it since trail ultras simply haven’t been on my radar.

When I said hi to Sherpa John on the comment feed he greeted me and said, Alene, you should check out these races since you like fixed time events. So the next day I looked into it, the Stories Ultra 15 and 30 hour races were in February in the Colorado Springs area. I was pretty skeptical at first. The altitude wasn’t high- less than 8000 feet. But it was trail, and winter in Colorado, and I am a cold weather wimp. I can make myself do it, but I am truly a hot weather runner.

I needed a long training run in February, and the 15 hour option made it seem more doable in case the weather sucked. I signed up, and took the extra step of signing up for a membership to his series because I wanted to support his philosophy, of having runs for  the runners, not for the circus atmosphere, which all of the major trail races in Colorado have become.

The whole time approaching the race, I had my doubts about the weather, that was the one factor that I dreaded. Winter finally came to Colorado in February, subzero temperatures, our first real snowfall, and still we were the banana belt compared to the Midwest.

February has been a freaking weird month from the get go. During the month of January, I kept wondering if we were ever going to get winter, and at the very end of the month my friend Katy contacted me one day and suggested we run Horsetooth Rock together, something we used to do regularly but haven’t done in years. We did one single rock repeat and spent the time catching up.  It was the most vertical I’ve done in quite some time- my vertical has been limited to running the hills on the Bacon Strip and Horsetooth Reservoir roads, and not very much mileage.

I was sore the day after the run with Katy and I knew I had some vertical coming up in Stories- and realized that might be the factor that did me in instead of the weather. But I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. Then the really weird shit started happening. First, my buddy Sasquatch (aka Dale Perry aka Richard Cranium) who was also planning to run Stories, found out he needed an aortic valve replacement soon after Across the Years. 

Yes, this is the same Sasquatch who has myeloma and had a stem cell transplant two years ago and has still been running ultras through most of the ordeal. He fortunately got an appointment with a cardiothoracic surgeon I know, who I think is the best one in Northern Colorado, and also happens to be an athlete himself, and they scheduled his surgery for today. As I write this post, Dale is in surgery.

Since they have to cut him open- yes, crack his chest- he will be healing for quite some time and unable to do ultras for a while. He had a ton of things to do before he went in for surgery and to prepare for his down time after, so of course he wasn’t going to go down and run Stories. That was a bummer, Sasquatch is always fun to run with, but he had a lot of good reasons to get this surgery done now and he has every intention of being back to ultras as soon as possible. Knowing him, he won’t waste a minute.

Then the next weird thing happened. I am sure you heard about this, because it made international news as well as Stephen Colbert and SNL. Last Monday, on the Westridge Trail, which is adjacent to the Horsetooth Rock trail, just the other side of Horsetooth Rock itself, a local guy was running and was attacked by a mountain lion from behind. 

When this happens the mountain lion usually wins and they find the runners body half buried under some nearby trail debris, but this guy fought back and killed the lion with his bare hands! DUDE! It was a young lion and about 80 pounds, and probably starving because this is weird behavior but the whole incident speaks for itself…

They runner was injured and I am sure freaked out and traumatized but he did everything right and got himself down off the trail, drove to the hospital and reported it, and he’s going to be okay (at least physically- I can’t even imagine what that would do to your mind!).

The buzz in the running community has been everything from he’ll never have to buy another beer to people freaked out about running the trails to lots of jokes and eventually it gets old, but I know the entire Fort Collins running community is a bit freaked out. The park was closed so Colorado Parks & Wildlife could figure out what’s going on and if there are more lions and so on… not even sure it’s re-opened yet.

I tried not to think about the fact that I would be running in the foothills on trails at dawn and dusk, prime mountain lion dinnertime, the following weekend.

I went about my pre-race packing routine with help from my supervisors, and I made a poster to take for people to sign for Dale, thinking about how Dale handles adversity. “F&$% You!” I put that in my race pile and told Sherpa John, we decided to leave it out by the aid station so anyone who knew Dale could sign it.

The weather forecast wasn’t terrible- looked like a high of 40ish and low in the teens or 20s, and no precipitation expected- which isn’t bad at all. Sherpa John said we wouldn’t want it to get much out of the 30s or the trail would be a mess. He said we might need traction of a couple of the higher loops up in the trees where there could be slick spots. I packed my Kahtoolas, Yak Trax, and poles just in case.

Friday morning I was getting my act together, planning to leave town before 12:30 so I could make it through Denver before Friday afternoon rush hour traffic. I happened to glance at Facebook. First thing I saw was a post from Wheaties Boy’s other half, Megan, announcing that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

I really love their family- Megan’s mom and dad live in Fort Collins, and I know them all well enough that it was pretty shocking to me, even though I deal with this all the time in my work. It’s true that it really is different when it’s someone in your family or close to you.

Anyway, I reacted exactly as I always caution people not to react- by sending them messages and offering my support-at a time when they are completely overwhelmed. I should have at least waited until next week. They all wrote back and it was fine- but I felt really bad for just giving them something extra to do- one more person to reply to- at a time when they have more than enough to deal with.

Megan’s mom has worked with people with cancer for many years, she’s a massage therapist and has worked specifically with cancer patients- and I know Megan has lots of support. Still…it felt like a punch in the gut to me- just hearing that.

I got on the road and headed south on I-25 and of course my mind was going crazy- between thinking about Megan and Sasquatch and my half-conscious uncertainty about doing this run- mountain lions and trail conditions and undertraining notwithstanding- and I was so distracted that I took a wrong turn at one point and got on a ramp taking me east on 270 and ended up in Commerce City on my way to Kansas. Oh shit. I had to correct that quickly, and traffic absolutely sucks. Then, Speer Boulevard and a few other spots on I-25 were parking lots. At 1:30 pm.

Eventually I got through Denver and it was better all the way to the Springs. I had made a reservation at the Doubletree, which is only a 10-minute drive from the race. I didn’t make a reservation for after the race because I didn’t know how I’d feel or if the hotel would be good. I figured after the race I could easily find a hotel room anywhere.

I checked into the hotel, took stuff up to my room and then drove out to the park to see how long it would take in the morning, and get a feel for the area. It reminded me a lot of southern Arizona, like the Old Pueblo 50 course. It was a nice day, cool but warmer than Fort Collins. I drove to the visitor center and walked around, then stopped at a restaurant for some food before going back to the hotel.

Later I found out Obama stayed at the Doubletree when he visited Colorado Springs. I wonder why they didn’t put him up at the Broadmoor. The hotel experience sort of sucked- the doors don’t fit very well and there’s a big gap under the door to the room so you can hear everything around you and people walking down the halls and a lot of light got in under the door. Plus, every time I went out an exit door, there were military guys standing around smoking.

Military guys are to be expected in Colorado Springs because the Air Force Academy and Fort Carson are both there. But there are a few things that go along with military culture- and yes, it’s the guys- not all of them, but enough of them- a major attitude from the macho testosterone-fueled culture of it. Anyway, it made for less than a pleasant experience walking through clouds of smoke and hearing their disgusting, sexist conversations. I felt like I was in Las Vegas. Honest, I don’t know how women in the military survive. Dude, I respect that you’re putting your life on the line for our country. Just have a little more respect for other people when you’re out in public.

I got in bed early and did some reading and turned off the light. I slept poorly, there was a lot of noise at all hours. What I didn’t realize was that outside the wind had picked up and slammed through the area, destroying some of the signs and start/finish line setup, ripping out the signage and flagging, and even driving a metal stake through the back window of Sherpa John’s rental van and shattering the glass.

When I woke up around 4, I checked my email and saw a 3:30 am message from Sherpa John telling everyone to be patient as they needed to put things back together, but assuring us that the race would go on.

By the time I drove up there to check in, you couldn’t tell that anything had happened, other than the shattered glass. It was windy as hell though, so I left Sasquatch’s sign in the car and figured I’d see how the day progressed. My friend Josh was volunteering at the check in and I picked up my number and race goodies, and visited with him. He also offered me a place to stay after the race and yelled at me for not letting him know ahead of time so I could stay with them instead of a hotel.

I went back to the shelter of my car to put on more layers before the pre-race briefing. I parked on the loop where the trail came through so it was easy for me to crew myself out of my car. It did result in me getting probably an extra tenth of a mile in between every loop- but who’s counting. It was nice to not have a table set up and worry about the wind.

We started precisely on time, and I had my headlamp. Sunrise wouldn’t happen for an hour, but you could see the lights of Colorado Springs to the east and the cloud formations were looking like a spectacular sunrise was in store for us.

The course consists of 4 different loops, each color coded red, green, blue, and purple. They get progressively longer and more challenging, with the final one as the “purple people eater loop”. In total, the 4 loop series is 19.61 miles long and has 2197 feet of elevation gain. Once you finish the series, you go out again and repeat it. At the end, for your final hour, they put you on a small 2/3 mile loop to keep you close by until you finish. That’s the “gold” loop.

On each loop, you pass through the main staging area, so you’re never more than 7 miles from the aid station. They had a variety of food and drinks. I went for the fresh pineapple- it was amazing. I never thought to eat pineapple on a run before, I do like strawberries and melon sometimes on my runs- but this pineapple

tasted better than anything I’ve eaten at a race in a long time!

Once we got out there and it got light, the course was marked extremely well. Even the purple loop- which was confusing to describe and people cautioned us to pay attention- was well marked. There were flags and laminated signs that had clear instructions. I had no problem finding my way, even in the dark.

The trails were about 50% in perfect condition, 25% ice, and 25% mud on the first go-around. On my first purple loop I took it easy so I could pay attention to the turns, knowing I’d be doing that in the dark if I made it that far for the second round. None of hills were very steep or long, there were a few that were made more challenging because of the ice chutes that had formed from melting and freezing, and the deterioration over the day of ice and snow turning to mud and then muck.

As it turned out, I never used any of the traction devices I brought. Yes it was slow and slick and sloppy, but I found myself giggling as I surfed the mud and ice chutes. It was messy, but I managed to stay upright the whole time. 

I did happen to notice that the name of the trail on the upper purple loop was “Cougar’s Shadow” and found this bench which can only serve to pique an overactive mind with fresh thoughts of mountain lion attacks…but I didn’t want to think about it.

 

The other thing about Stories is that each runner’s number has a question written on the back of it, intended to give you something to think about during the race. After you complete 50K, Sherpa John gives you a chance to talk about your answer to the question for 10 minutes or so on his podcast. It’s optional, but I thought it was a really nice way to hear the voices of all the runners and get some insight into what goes through their minds. I haven’t heard the episode yet but I look forward to listening, and I’ll link it here when Sherpa John posts it.

As it turned out, I arrived at 50K before dark and Sherpa John was standing right there at the aid station so I took the opportunity to do my interview then. He had all his recording equipment set up in the van- yes, the same van that had the window smashed overnight and was now taped up with cardboard.

My question was, “Are you remaking the world, or yourself?” I can’t remember now what incoherent things I said, but they are recorded forever on the podcast, so you’ll be able to listen. I also talked about Dale and how I admire his attitude- not letting adversity get in his way and pushing forward, and how I wish more people would do that, instead of letting things defeat them.

After talking with Sherpa John I went back to my car to dress for night and get my headlamp and put more layers on. I slammed some Starbucks doubleshots to stay awake. I knew I’d have to pay attention to the markings on the purple loop. I texted Josh and took him up on his offer of a place to stay, knowing it would be about another 4 hours before I finished and I was already feeling a little sleepy.

I did put some music on and it helped a lot. By the time I got up to the really muddy section, it was getting cooler and already noticeably more solidified than earlier. It was still shoe sucking mud in some places but it was overall better footing than earlier. Everyone was spread apart on the course and I didn’t hear or see any voices or lights as I approached the climb to the top of the Cougar Shadow trail.

For a while, I’d stop every so often and shine my light around behind me to make sure I wasn’t being stalked. Finally I got over it and knew that the faster I got down off the loop the better, so I just sang out loud and hoped it would scare any lions and tigers and bears away. It worked, except for the gators.

I actually ended up negative splitting my second purple loop. Probably due to the footing, but the music helped me move faster, too.

I had time for at least two gold loops after I got back to the staging area. I did two of them, and might have been able to do a third if I pushed myself, but it was only 12 minutes to spare. I know better than to get greedy. I didn’t want to trip over any rocks in the dark and ruin what had been a perfect day by doing a faceplant. Plus I had over 40 miles, which was my ultimate goal- I would have been happy with just 50K- so I picked up Dale’s sign, said good-bye to Sherpa John and thanked him, and headed to Josh and Jeana’s.

By the end I got 40.5 miles (probably more like 42 with all my back and forths to the car and before the race!) and 4500 feet of vertical in 14 hours, 48 minutes and change. My legs felt surprisingly good. The vertical didn’t bother me, I had plenty of layers on and never got cold, there was enough shelter from the wind on much of the course that it wasn’t really an issue. And I didn’t get eaten by a mountain lion.

It was an exceptionally well-done race. Well-organized, well-marked, and the unexpected wind didn't seem to put a dent in anything from my perspective as a runner. The volunteers were super nice and the aid station was simple enough but well-stocked and all the basics were there. There was a nice t-shirt and you got a finisher's award and a water bottle, and it was well worth the entry fee and the effort to travel there. Not crowded, but with enough participants to make it fun and social. Best of all, no circus atmosphere. You just show up and run. 

I visited with Josh and Jeana for a while and then took a shower and crashed in the comfortable bed. In the morning, we talked briefly before I left- they were headed out to help in the final hours of the 30 hour race.

It was a beautiful, warm, clear morning in Colorado Springs. By the time I drove back to Fort Collins, it was overcast and 23 degrees. Ugh. So much for the banana belt- I was in it on Saturday.

So, now I’m home, I am not very sore, surprisingly. I can feel where I was slipping in the mud- some different muscles got used there, but other than that I feel unscathed. A little brain hangover, as usual, from sleep deprivation and cytokines the day after. I’m actually thinking about signing up for Sherpa John’s next fixed time trail race in May- the Tommyknocker 12 hour near Golden. I’ll give the idea a few days to settle.

Sasquatch is hopefully out of surgery by the time I finish this post and I will look forward to hearing from him as soon as they pull all the tubes out of him, the heavy drugs wear off, and he is coherent enough to communicate.

And I will give Megan some time then check back in with her. I know she will be well-cared for.

Gotta get back to the routine, which I am thankful for. Sometimes we don’t stop often enough to remember how fortunate we are- the daily grind that we take for granted, no matter how healthy and fit and diligent we are- things can happen. And it’s important to have that Sasquatch spirit- “$%@#!”

Enjoy your adventures- and your routines. They all make good stories.

Palmer Lake 24 Hour Death Race/Fun Run

I think I just fell in love with ultras again. It was my first time doing this event, which is fairly new, it wasn't around in the old days, anyway. I was amazed by the organization, the vibe, and the bang for your buck. The organizers did an amazing job. I'll be back to this one. Maybe a new favorite.

Palmer Lake is a tiny town at the base of the Rampart Range, tucked away off I-25, protected from the madness of the nearby big cities of Denver and Colorado Springs. I haven't been there in 20 years. Before we moved away to Arizona, I ran a trail race there in 1998. I remember it being beautiful and quiet.

The entire reason I love 24 hour runs is the nighttime. Especially under a clear sky with stars and meteor showers. Life doesn't get much better than that, in my opinion. If I were more of a night person in my regular life, I would do all my running at night. The cover of darkness under the moon or starlit sky is the best venue for running, for losing yourself, for therapy, for clearing your mind into a blank slate, and renewal of your spirit. That's what it does for me.

Surrounded by mountains with pine-forested slopes, a forgiving dirt trail around a quiet lake reflecting the landscape, and just the right number of people- not too crowded, but well-attended enough to provide the just the right social atmosphere, with enough of a weather challenge to keep things interesting without being miserable- I think this might be the essence of ultrarunning.

The only drawback of this event, that I found a bit annoying- was the frequency of the trains that thundered by at least once an hour- big, long coal trains along the tracks on the west side of the course. There is a railroad crossing on the north end of the lake, and the horns would go off, waking you out of whatever stupor you were in, followed by earth shattering railroad cars, followed by hundreds of screeching wheels that sound like nails on a chalkboard. Other than being subjected to this music- and conversation-obliterating nuisance on a regular basis, and one that the race organizers are powerless to change- I would say this event is one of the best ultras I've ever attended. I'd say if the noise bothers you, bring earplugs, it certainly won't stop me from coming back.

Sasquatch (a.k.a. Dale Perry) told me about this event a few months ago and the timing was perfect for me. Then I signed up for it and discovered it was a bargain. Other than Fat Ass runs, this one doesn't cost much more than those. There is, of course, no timing system, it's an honor-based system where you keep track of your own miles. They provide a tracking method where you can write down your lap count. I found that it helped me if I wrote my laps down every hour, that way I didn't have trouble keeping track of too many at a time. To help me remember, I also wrote down the time of day when I finished the last recorded lap.

I wasn't expecting much more than a Fat Ass event based on the price, but I was pleasantly surprised to find just the right number of well-stocked portapotties, a tent with a few unexpected snacks, trash cans, and chairs to chill out off your feet if needed, which was where the lap-tracking activity occurred. We switched directions every 4 hours, which was a nice distraction, and it was convenient to set up your table or crewing station right along the course without adding any extra steps.

Not only that, but they provided race goodies- a water bottle, flask, sticker, and finishers medal, much more than I'd ever expect from a race priced this low.


After being supervised by Velcro and Gypsy while packing everything under the sun due to the weather forecast of snowy, cold, wet conditions, I decided to stay overnight in Monument, about 10 minutes drive from the event. I made a reservation at the Fairfield Inn and headed south on I-25. Sasquatch also decided to drive down Friday so we met for dinner at Chili's- not too many choices besides McDonalds, fried chicken, and a few other fast food joints. Sasquatch advised me to get there early in the morning to get a good parking spot to be able to set up for crewing along the course. He said he would be there at 6. I told him I would look for him around 6:30 am, as the race start was at 8 am.

I got decent sleep, though not a full night. My room was hot. I couldn't figure out how to lower the thermostat. I woke up at 3:30 am and couldn't fall back to sleep until shortly before my alarm went off at 5:30. Six hours was okay, but not having a full night's sleep before the race adds to the fatigue in the race. What are you gonna do? Lots of caffeine.

When I woke up in the morning, I looked out my window on the parking lot. It snowed overnight and puddles were forming on the asphalt. The clouds were barely above the ground- a thick fog obscured the view. I drove slowly to the race and got a parking spot alongside the course, with enough room to set up my table next to my car and the trail. I went to the tent to check in and found Sasquatch, who got one of the primo parking spots and parked right next to Eric Pence, another ultra friend of ours from Eagle. Eric is back to ultras now, a few months after surgery to donate one of his kidneys to his sister. Eric has always been a great athlete, and he seems to be recovering extremely well.

It was already muddy on the course, and the wet snow wasn't letting up. There was also a 10 mph wind out of the north that was worth an extra layer or two of clothing. I started out with my long compression shorts and my calf compression sleeves, which together are long enough to cover my entire legs. I wore gaiters, and on top, I had 4 layers, plus a neck gaiter, hat and headband. I brought so many clothes, I knew I would be okay.

As it turned out, I was dressed perfectly, because I was completely comfortable. There was a noticeable difference between the east and west sides of the lake with the wind in our faces or at our backs, I'd rather stay warm and be a little overdressed when the wind is at my back.

Despite the gloomy and wet start, I was thankful that the wind wasn't blowing the snow sideways, and that there weren't waves crashing over the course, like NorthCoast in 2013, exactly 5 years ago to this weekend! I've run in worse, and it was actually quite pleasant here by comparison.

I started out by running a lap every hour to save my energy, and that went well for the first four hours, until the course started to get sloppy, slowing my pace down. Each lap of the course is 0.82 miles. I wasn't doing the math in my head but I knew I wanted to beat my distance from Across the Years in December, which was 61 miles. I was hoping for 70 miles but in these conditions you can't always predict. I decided to concentrate on keeping a steady but moderate walking pace, because the footing was not great on the sloppier west side of the course.

Lots of people were running steadily, and seemed to be putting in a ton of mileage. After a while it was easy to see who was in it just to run 25 or 30 or so, and then stop. The crowd started to dwindle later in the afternoon, and while the weather forecast hadn't been exactly right- the sky did start to clear a few times off and on during the afternoon, and was visibly clearer by sunset, promising a colder but dry evening.

During the race Brad Bishop from Fort Collins joined me on one of his walk breaks from running. He didn't have any particular plan but seemed to be moving well. We talked a while and then he went back to running. I had the opposite strategy- mostly walking with a few running breaks. At one point somebody remarked that I reminded them of a locomotive. I'll take it as a compliment. I was moving solid and steady, but I wasn't exactly in "Walk like you're possessed" mode. It was too slippery in the mud and puddles.

I only stopped twice for short breaks- once to eat some real food out of my cooler after about 6 hours- and another time after 10 hours I changed my socks to take a look at my feet and put on an extra layer of tights for nighttime. My feet were holding up surprisingly well. I greased a few hot spots but everything looked good.

I tried to save on my phone battery and I posted on social media a few times throughout the day, and to my surprise, my friend Josh Holer commented- I wasn't thinking and forgot he was nearby in Colorado Springs. He asked if I needed anything. I asked for Starbucks. Then I thought of Sasquatch and decided to ask if he wanted anything- maybe food or hot drinks. When I saw him on the course, he said a burger or a burrito. The burrito sounded good to me. I asked Josh if he could bring us some burritos and coffee.

I was trying to figure out how to contact Josh because it was so cold my phone wasn't charging. Fortunately the people at the car parked in front of mine were crewing another runner, and offered to text Josh for me to help him find me when he got there. They were so nice- a group of people from Boulder. Ultrarunners are always looking out for each other. Such a great crowd.

Josh came out before sunset, with his girlfriend I haven't ever met, Jeana, who was super nice, and their new puppy, Ember, a black lab. They had a vanilla latte with extra shots, and two burritos. I haven't seen Josh in a couple of years, it was such an awesome treat! He walked a few laps with me and we caught up on life. That was the best tasting vanilla latte I've ever had- and it worked well too!

The burrito place mismarked the burritos- I ordered chicken and Dale ordered beef- so I unwrapped the burrito marked chicken and bit into it- and it was Dale's. We waited for Dale to come around the lap so we could give him his food. I told him we gave him the defective one. Typical Dale response, which I won't print here.

The other thing that happened at the same time was that as I was waiting for Josh to show up, I stopped at the timing tent to record my laps, and I ran into an old running buddy from years ago- Sandee Miller. She and her husband Geoff live in Palmer Lake and I used to see them all the time back in the 90s when I used run a lot of trail races and go to Leadville. Geoff was out along the course, so Sandee and I walked a lap and found Geoff. It was so great to see them!

After all the food, coffee and socializing I felt completely recharged. I cranked up my tunes. The sunset was absolutely stunning with the light on the peaks of the Rampart Range. Sandee, Jeana and Josh took a few pictures.

The sky cleared up and there was a moon, lots of stars, and even some meteor showers. The slippery puddles that had made the footing a challenge earlier were starting to dry up. The wind persisted and switched directions out of the south, but didn't get any stronger. The trains rolled by about every hour- that was irritating because you couldn't hear the person next to you, or your music. But most of the time it was quiet. There weren't too many people left on the course after 10 pm. I didn't have to use my headlamp too much, the path is so smooth that the footing was good other than a few bigger puddles.



When I wasn't talking with someone, I got absorbed in my music. People always ask me what I think about when I'm out there. I really don't think. It's an opportunity to clear my mind. What did go through my head was watching Pete Kostelnick, who is one of the young, fresh, talented ultrarunners on the scene these days, effortlessly circling the course. I think he got about 120 miles. I was thinking about my own competitive nature, and how hard it's been at times to let go of that.

It was fun and it felt fantastic to be in such good condition, to be able to do all those miles and make it look so easy- up until just a few years ago I could do that. I know I could do it again if I put my mind to it, but it just doesn't matter to me now. It is hard to not compare yourself to what you were. As we get older, we are able to accomplish some things that we couldn't at a younger age, but physically, you do lose some of that steam- especially in the speed and smoothness departments.

I have to be accepting of my ability to cover distances- not as far as before, not as fast or easy as before, but be okay with it. Stop comparing to the younger me, and be okay with where I am now. I don't think I was okay with it until now. At Across the Years I did find myself mentally comparing myself. The challenge was to separate the need to be competitive, to have the athlete's body, to train hard and see the results in my times and distances- from being in a different mindset and body than I was a few years ago. I don't need to prove anything to myself or anyone else. I always find validation when I think of Marshall Ulrich saying, "It's not about being a badass."

A good lesson for those younger runners, especially as they start to approach their late 40s and find that the consistency of performance just isn't there. I listen to some of the conversations at night- it's so funny that the people who were flying by, effortlessly running and lapping me all day long are now dragging their beaten and tired bodies- barely moving- in that zombie walk/death march, depleted of energy and calories- feeling like giving up- and I want to impart advice to them- as they start telling me how good I look as I power past them in the dark- I'm still moving the same way I was at the beginning- but that's because I didn't wear myself out by running all day.

But it's up to them to figure it out, so I don't say anything unless asked.

I have a playlist on my iPod called "night music" that ranges from headbanging to just loud and obnoxious- to keep me awake in the middle of the night at these events. I didn't have to listen to too much of it, as the coffee was keeping me plenty awake.

I went through a whole variety of music. I kept singing, the whole time. "I LOVE ROCK N' ROLL SO PUT ANOTHER DIME IN THE JUKEBOX BABY I LOVE ROCK N ROLL..." at the top of my lungs, echoing in the portapotties at 3 am.

During the night I walked with Eric Pence for a while. He told me he and Anne are getting a puppy soon- a mini black tri Aussie. Anne showed me a picture- so cute! We talked Aussies, ultras, and healthcare, and stuck together for quite a few laps.

I didn't get sleepy, just a little hungry. I kept a few calories going but didn't feel like eating too much. Just kept moving at a very steady pace. I started to do the math. Sasquatch left after 50 miles- that was enough for him. When I got to 50 miles then I started thinking about how far I wanted to go. I decided I had to do the 70 just for my own mental satisfaction. If I kept my pace up I should reach it between 6 and 7 am. Then I would reward myself with a nap in the car before driving home to Fort Collins.

The sun started to rise- the light was reflecting on the mountains and lake. I finished my 86th lap, which was 70.52 miles- at 5:42 am. I was satisfied. I didn't care about sticking around for any more miles- that was good. I broke down my table, thanked Jun who helped me find Josh, and moved my car out of the way so I could warm it up and take a little nap.



I dozed off for maybe 5 minutes when another train came blasting through- it woke me up, so I decided to get going and see if some food and coffee would revive me. When I got to south Denver I pulled off and went to a Starbucks, got a coffee and a sandwich, and felt so much better, I was ready to drive. I drove home and got there around 9 am, Dennis helped me dump my stuff out in the garage, and after being attacked by the girls, I took a shower and climbed into bed.

As of today, Monday morning, I owe the sleep bank only about 4 more hours. I have to get packed for Washington DC. I'm headed there later this week to #NursesTakeDC, a grassroots rally of nurses at the US Capitol for passing national legislation for safe nurse: patient ratios in hospitals and healthcare facilities. I am one of the speakers. I'm so excited. I will share the details on this blog after I get back.

photo credits: Josh Holer, Jeana Connaughton, Sandee Miller

Estes Park Marathon: Round Five

After a three year hiatus from a race I once swore off, or at least temporarily retired from, I came back. Reincarnated as a tourist.

Saturday night I went to bed early, since I had to get up at 4:15 am to get ready for the marathon and the hour drive to Estes Park. Dennis was out at a work-related function.

I couldn't sleep, so I got up and sat down at the computer, hoping reading would make me sleepy. Around 9:30 I went back to bed to try again. Eventually I dozed off, but within a few minutes of falling asleep suddenly Iris pounced on me and I heard what sounded like baseballs falling on the roof.

Iris curled up next to me, practically smothering me, and she was trembling.

Hailstorm.

The hail itself only lasted a few minutes, but it was enough to terrify Iris and wake me up. Isabelle is the one who usually gets scared of things. She's the one who hides under the table when there's a fly in the house. She was sleeping on the floor, in front of the fan. I don't know if she even heard it.

I comforted Iris for a while, until she seemed okay. I thought of my tomato plants and the apricot trees on the patio, and then I wondered if the hail did any damage to the roof or my car. I'd find out in the morning.

I think I finally fell asleep around 11 pm. I never heard Dennis when he came home. The alarm startled me at 4:15 and I dragged myself down to the kitchen for coffee, a zombie.

The drive up to Estes went quickly, and I arrived an hour before the start, which was plenty of time, but a good thing, since this year they decided to make the runners park far from the start. I think I got an extra mile of walking in before the race. They didn't make it clear where runners were supposed to park this year, they used to have us park in the parking lot next to the school but they moved the starting lines there this year.

There was this woman in a race shirt and a skirt, screaming at people driving in. I don't think she understood that anyone who has run this race before would be confused by the changes. There were no signs posted to direct people, drivers were confused, it was chaotic, and people are always a little anxious before races anyway. She might not have been a runner and didn't understood this.

Anyway, people were whipping their cars around, making U turns, driving through the barricaded area, and getting pissed off. She was yelling back at them. When I opened my window to ask her where we should park, she screamed at me too. She even called me "ma'am". Hisssssssss...

Don't ma'am me.

The parking nazi. At 6 am. Welcome to the Estes Park Marathon.

I parked and then went up to pick up my number, and ran into Joanne and Hunter, my friends from the running club. Joanne was running the half marathon. Hunter is her husband. Joanne and Hunter are going to crew for me at the 24 hour race in Oklahoma City this fall. Joanne forgot to bring something to carry water in, and the race came up with this goofy device called the hydrapouch. The point was to reduce waste, avoiding the paper cup trash that goes along with these events. That's a good reason for it.

But it's a flimsy little soft plastic cup with a clip that supposedly clips onto your belt or waistband. I tried it the last time I ran this race and it sucked. I spent too much time bending over and picking it up when it fell off my waistband. It's lame, if you ask me. They were using paper cups anyway at the aid stations, so that kind of defeats the purpose.

Anyway, Joanne forgot to bring one and they wanted to charge her something like ten bucks for this goofy thing. Since I was in the marathon, I got one for free, so I gave mine to Joanne. I had my water bottle and my full pack, I didn't need it.

I can't believe a race where they charge you almost $100 for an entry fee can't get the hydrapouch as a sponsor or buy them and give them to all the runners for free. Plus they were using paper cups, so I bet anyone who spent an extra ten bucks on that thing was pissed.

The race started and I had to pee like a race horse from the get-go. There were only 4 portapotties at the starting line with long lines, and the school bathrooms were far away. So I waited, and the race course passed through the starting area around mile 2, and I used them then. I took my time going up the long hill to where the course tops out overlooking Mary's lake, around mile 6. The morning was perfect. Not cold, not too warm and the sky was clear. No trace of haze visible from the Big Meadows fire.

I was going slow, taking my time, taking pictures, and posting them on Facebook. My legs were tired. They felt okay, but they were flat. I had a great week of workouts and this is what I expected, so I didn't worry about it. I was out for the scenic cruise.

There were wildflowers everywhere. This year there's been so much more moisture. Things were green, the meadows were wet, and there were iris everywhere.

It started to heat up as we descended into town, but the aid stations had cold water and ice. They also had this different kind of gel, I've seen it before but never tried it, it's called Vi Gel and it's made for young runners. Why? Because the size of the font on the ingredients list is so small that anyone my age would need arms 10 feet long in order to read it.

I picked one up that said "Peach Cobbler" and that soudned a little funky so I tried to read the ingredients. Fortunately I saw the word "cinnamon" at the end, and put it back in the pile. I *HATE* cinnamon. If you get that $@%# near me when I'm running, I will barf. This princess is traumatized by cinnamon. So I tried the vanilla and chocolate flavors instead. Not too bad. I think I still prefer Hammer Gel and Clif Shot crack.

I ran the downhills and alternated between running and powerwalking the uphills. I was too busy taking pictures to get too excited about running.

Between 10 and 15 miles the race course goes through town and around Lake Estes on the bike paths. It's very scenic, there are views of all the mountain ranges on this side of Rocky Mountain National Park. The marathon and half-marathon courses branch off here, the marathon goes around the lake and the half marathon goes back to the high school to finish.

There was one spot around 12 miles where it was very confusing, and the signage didn't help. I saw marathon mile 12 with an arrow, then soon after that there was another mile 12 sign, then there was a half-marathon mile 12 sign.

I looked around and only saw half-marathoners with their blue bibs. I wondered if I was on the right course. I kept going, not too worried if I did extra distance, since I wasn't racing, but it took a while before there was a course marshal directing people in the marathon.

Soon after that, I saw the marathon mile 12 marker again. I knew I was on the marathon course but not sure if I was making an extra loop. I kept going and eventually saw the 13 mile marker, which told me I was making progress. Except my split for mile 12 to 13 was 22 minutes, and I was running a good bit of it. Strange. I must have counted it from the first mile 12 sign I saw.

I knew I was in the right place, this is the 4th time I've run this race. Actually it's the 5th, but in 2011 I bagged it halfway through in a cold rainstorm and swore it off forever. I kept going along the path around the lake.

Soon there was this sign, and it wasn't lying. The aggressive elk was right there 10 feet off the path. But it wasn't really aggressive. I walked by it slowly, and it just watched me and chewed on some grass. When I got far enough away I whipped out my camera and then I saw all the other elk, and the elk calves down by the water.

Whenever I run this marathon I always feel like I'm almost done when I get across the highway and through the residential area just before you turn onto Dry Gulch road at 16 miles. This is also where it gets hot, most years. It was 75 degrees as I turned onto Dry Gulch road. The aid stations had been well stocked with water and ice.

I looked at the sky and the clouds were moving in. By 17 miles it was cooling off and there was more of a breeze. I didn't bring a jacket this year, I wore my hat but decided to take a chance on it not getting too cold and wet. Probably not a good choice, but I was warm, and the clouds didn't look too threatening. I figured I'd be done in less than 2 hours.

Going up Dry Gulch road and then turning back toward town at 19 miles, it was still warm. Then the wind picked up. After 19 miles the course is mostly downhill with a few little rolling hills, but there was a headwind. I was still being a tourist, but I had my eye on the clouds. At the 20 mile mark I decided to get it over with. I was done with being a tourist. I picked up the pace and put my camera away.

Right before mile 22 I could see a greenish haze downhill, ahead of me, in the forest. The wind was blowing hard. I took off my sunglasses since it was getting dark, and I could see that it was dust.

Then I saw the aid station, there was a dust devil and the paper cups were being blown everywhere, the rain drops started coming down, and the aid station volunteers were running around chasing trash.

I jogged through the rain and headwind and when I got to 23 miles, having whipped out the camera again to take pictures in the storm, I decided to, finally, seriously, get it over with. With only 5K to go I pulled off an 8:30 mile and did a couple of 9 minute miles as I headed into the finish. It always seems like it takes forever to get up the last stretch of bike path to the high school track, where the finish line is. It was raining.

5:28:16. A good long hill run, time on my feet, with a little heat and altitude, not a bad day at the office. And yes, the tourist option was MUCH better.

It looked like they were starting to break down the finish line area and covering the sound system. Someone gave me a finisher's medal, there were very few people around, everyone was running for shelter from the rain and wind, putting jackets on, and heading for their cars.

I went back to my car, taking the long cooldown hike to the remote parking area, and drove home. The place was deserted. I was hungry but it was jammed with tourists in town. I didn't want to deal with it, I could eat gels if I got desperate. The drive home down the canyon was ridiculously slow and backed up, and it would have been worse if I waited.

Finally I got home, got to hang out with Dennis and the girls, ate, drank a beer, and took a nap. Then I called my dad to wish him a happy father's day and talked with him for a long time.

I talked to my brother, too, who told me my niece Jenny who is a junior in high school, is interested in coming up here this summer to check out Colorado State University. That would be awesome. Jenny is cool. She's going to be queen of the universe someday. Except she seems more like a Boulder sort of person, than Fort Collins. We'll see.

Other than the hailstorm, and maybe the parking nazi, it was a pretty good weekend. As it turned out, we got lucky with the hail. Only one tomato plant got damaged, that's all we could see. The sky is dark tonight, I hope we don't get a repeat of that.

One more day off, then I have four 12 hour shifts at work this week, which I coordinated to fall on my rest week of my running schedule. If I think I'm tired now, just wait. I plan to spend all my days off this week on the bike. I'll resume my training the last week of June...