Another Existential Crisis: The 24 Hour That Wasn't

I am so glad it's a new week. I had big plans for last week and everything sort of fell apart in one way or another. Nothing earthshattering, just a series of progressive and cumulative disappointments, but I ended the week on an upswing.

Bomb Cyclone

This time of year I usually plan a few days out of town to go to my favorite hot springs resort in the mountains to take a relaxing few days away from the grind and my inboxes, to get a massage or other spa treatments, and sit by the pool soaking up rays, listen to the creek and the breeze, and watch the clouds roll by the still-snowcapped mountaintops.

This year I asked my friend Crisann to join me and we drove up Monday morning, taking in the amazing scenery of Colorado's mountain banana belt. We went for a hike and sat by the pool in the spring-like weather, then later we went into town and had dinner at a fairly new Asian restaurant.

I had the best Panang curry of my entire life there- and we discovered a new favorite beer on tap- Soulcraft Coconut Milk Stout.

There was a storm expected to move in around mid-week. We planned to spend Wednesday in town and check out some of the shops, Crisann is a quilter so we were going to those shops and then wine tasting at my favorite winery down the road, and explore downtown. We figured we'd spend most of the day Tuesday at the pool, I scheduled a hot stone massage and scalp scrub in the afternoon, and the rest of the day I read a friend's new book that I've been meaning to finish. Tuesday was nice but it was getting cooler and windier by the hour.

We checked the weather forecast and as usual, since the news corporations can't sell "snowstorms" as well as they can sell "bomb cyclones" we had a bomb cyclone forecast, and it looked like it was going to hit the Front Range (where we live) around mid-day on Wednesday. Since we have to go over three mountain passes to get back home, we decided to leave first thing Wednesday morning and get home ahead of the storm. Turned out to be a good plan, because we arrived in Fort Collins around 10 am Wednesday, and it was already raining. By 1 pm it was dumping snow.

Circling the Drain

I was also scheduled to run the Palmer Lake 24 Hour run over the weekend, and the weather was looking sort of horrendous. I asked my friend Sasquatch, who is a real-life meteorologist, about his plans and he gave me the weather forecast. Last year it was nasty enough weather at Palmer Lake, but this year was shaping up to be way worse. I asked another friend, Sandee, who lives there, and she said expect 6 inches of snow on the course and that we'd need traction because of the mud if it thawed. I am not a fan of slipping and sliding for 24 hours and I sure as hell didn't want to wear my Kahtoolas that long. A nagging groin injury is not something I'd enjoy dealing with.

By Friday morning I decided I'm not going, and nearly all my friends who were planning to go had also backed out. I cancelled my hotel room, and decided I could put a few miles in over the weekend at home in better conditions. Saturday wasn't looking too great but Sunday was supposed to be a lot nicer. I'd planned to do 80 miles at Palmer Lake so I thought maybe, if all went well, I could pack 80 miles into two days at home.

Friday afternoon I found out that we didn't get the grant we applied for to expand my cancer survivor program at the nonprofit I'm working with, so that pretty much put a nail in the coffin of the entire week.

Flushing the Toilet

I decided that I would take it easy on Saturday and get maybe 20 miles in, and leave the rest of the miles for Sunday. I didn't get started until about 11 am on Saturday and went out to do my slow 20 on the Power Trail. It was cold and cloudy, which fit my mood perfectly. For the first 10 miles I had to work through my feelings about not getting the grant. It's not the end of the world, there are other grants to apply for, but it does slow my progress in developing the program and in the research I've been doing. This is my pet project, I've developed the program from scratch, it shows promise empirically, and despite the lack of interest from mainstream corporate healthcare, and now I have quantitative and qualitative data to back up its benefits. It's frustrating dealing with the slow pace of research and the academic world, as well as traditional healthcare, but I know it's making a difference in real people's lives, because they tell me it is.

But when I describe the program to dull-eyed executives their eyes light up with interest until they realize it's not a reimbursable service so they can't make money off of it. Anyway...who cares about that as long as I can keep doing what I'm doing. My purpose in life is not to enlighten their inflexible and shortsighted minds. I left the hospital because of that rigid and self-serving mindset, and I've had a lot of satisfaction doing my own thing. The thing that hurt the most was the message that you have nothing of value to offer us, we just want you to shut up and be our robot, stay in the lane we have designated for you. Sometimes it's enough to make you say, fuck it all, I'm taking my toys and going home. I'm used to this recurring theme in healthcare. But I'm not ready to retire yet. One of these days, I will be.

While I've mostly recovered from that, it can be very disappointing to have setbacks like this and I spent the first ten miles on the Power Trail Saturday morning purging my emotions, thankful that there weren't many other people on the bike path. By the second half of my day, I was over it. I met my friend Emma and she did six miles with me in the afternoon. I ended up with 20.2 miles for the day and felt good.

Dennis took me out for sushi, which further cheered me up.

The Sun Always Rises

I woke up way too early Sunday morning, around 3 am. I decided to make coffee and try to get out before dawn so I could have a shot at mega miles. Maybe 60 was still possible if I felt up to it, I thought. I knew it would take until late at night to finish, but I decided to see how I felt all day. Sasquatch was coming to my house at 9 so I figured I'd take a short break before meeting him there and we could do as many miles as he felt comfortable with, given that he's still recovering from his aortic valve replacement.

I started in the dark, going through the neighborhoods north of my house until I reached the north end of the Power Trail.. Light was starting to fill the horizon in the east, and when I got to Drake I turned east, facing into the sunrise. I stopped by the old barn and took some pictures, but saw something moving in the grass about 20 meters away. First I thought it was a cat. Then I saw the white stripe... I backed up as quietly as I could. That was close!

I continued down the hill and then up the hill on Ziegler as the sun was rising. That was enough to make the missed sleep worthwhile.

I headed back to the house, got some food and refilled my bottles, and waited for Sasquatch. I was feeling physically fine, but my motivation wasn't there. I felt a bit washed out. When Sasquatch arrived we did 6 miles by Warren Lake and then I had 20 when I got back to the house again. Sasquatch took off and I hung out for a while, thinking. I felt fine physically, my feet felt better than they did at the end of yesterday's 20, but I didn't have the drive. I decided to go out for another 10 and see how I felt. I ended up doing a little over 11 on the lower Power Trail and was feeling good, moving well, but I didn't have the desire- I just wanted to come home, drink a beer, and relax.

I finished up the day with 31.45 miles, a hair over 50K, and called it good. Before I went hoe I made a detour to the liquor store and bought a bottle of Coconut Milk Stout. I earned it.

I was in bed by 7 pm and was ready to go this morning, went to boxing class, and here I am. Ready to face another week. A better one. Gotta be.

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.

Revolution

These past few months, I spent a lot of time struggling with writing. I can still whip out a blogpost when necessary, but I didn’t have anything meaningful in my running that I wanted to write about on this blog.

Running has been much more of a struggle than writing, and considering that both of those passions of mine have been difficult lately, it's been a real challenge pulling it all together. Now that solstice is past and the days are getting longer, and January 1 is the first day of spring, I can see the light again.

Running on bricks
I ran a twelve-hour run in September and my legs felt the same at the beginning of the run as they did at the end, like running on bricks instead of muscles. It’s a weird feeling, your legs having this vague soreness or fatigue all the time, no matter what you do. It’s not like you feel it when you’re just sitting around, but as soon as you do the minimum of effort or exertion, it feels like you’ve been doing sprints.

The runners at There Goes the Sun 12 Hour

I pushed through the 12 hour and despite having trained a significant amount more this year than I did the previous year, and running a lot more of the time during the event, I only ended up with one more mile than last year. 47 instead of 46. That was disappointing enough, and it took the wind out of my sails to continue training for the 48 hour at Across the Years. I just didn’t feel like I wanted my legs to feel like that for 2 days. It’s not fun.

I backed off on my expectations and signed up for the 24 hour without any goals and I’ve basically blown off training for the past 3 months, not much mileage at all. I haven’t been running 5 days a week like I was, either. I’ve been walking, but not even doing a lot of that. Since September, my longest runs have been 10 miles on the Bacon Strip with some hills, until 3 weeks ago I went out and ran 10 miles late on a Saturday followed by 20 miles early on Sunday with two Bacon Strip loops, giving me 30 miles within 24 hours, and that was it.

Bacon Strip scenery

Soon after the crappy 12 hour, I realized what I’d been suspecting all along in my training runs was the problem. I went on statins a year before, and a common side effect is muscle pain. It did help my cholesterol somewhat, but I didn’t enjoy the way my legs felt running. It made me not want to run any harder because it already felt like I’d done a hard workout. Pushing the pace was out of the question.

I talked with my doctor and we decided to try going off the statin and recheck my cholesterol in 3 months, thinking I could change my diet a bit and increase the amount and intensity of running.

I do have occasional days now when my legs feel better, but they only seem to happen about once a week. I don’t know if the statins did long-term or permanent damage to my muscles, I hope not, but I certainly don’t feel like I have any level of fitness to push myself.

I have not changed my diet other than stopping eating wheat. I had success with that a few years back but that was before menopause, and I was still running intensely. The intensity of running is not there, so I am curious to see how my labs turn out when I get them drawn next month.

For the past year and a half I’ve been boxing, which helps my core and my upper body somewhat. But for the past 6 months I’ve only been going to class once a week, it just takes too much time to attend more classes than that with driving there and back, so I do my favorite class on Monday mornings and that’s it.

A couple of months ago my running friends Jill and Crisann started doing yoga at a nearby studio and they like it a lot, finally they convinced me to come to a class, which I did, and I ended up liking it so much I got a membership and now I am doing yoga 3 or 4 times a week.

This is recent, so we’ll see how that plays out over the next several months. It’s much closer to my house so there’s less travel time, and there are a variety of classes available, fitness, relaxation, restorative, mentally and physically challenging, and hot, and I am realizing what it takes to unwind a body that’s been running tightly wound for 35 years. This January is my 35th anniversary since I started running.

Yoga and Me
Yoga is something I have always been drawn to naturally since I was young. I never realized what I’ve been doing all along is a modified form of yoga- just not always with the breathing and mental parts.

When I was 13 in 8th grade and living in Pennsylvania when my parents got divorced, the first place we moved with my mom was to an apartment in Haverford. Around the same time, I somehow discovered this book called Yoga for Americans by Indra Devi. I can remember spending the afternoons between the time I’d get home from school and when my younger brother and sister got home from school, in the living room, next to the wall, doing yoga every day. I went through the whole book and learned all the poses and pretty much devoured every bit of information in the book. I can’t even remember what drew me to the book, I think I found it in a health food store. Remember those?

Copyright 1959!

At the time it was probably the thing that saved me from going in directions with my life that would have been detrimental to my long term and future mental and physical health. Junior high was hell, I was one of those kids who didn’t fit in. Every day at school was like a gauntlet of torment and nastiness, all at a time when I was adjusting to my parents splitting up, living with my mom in an apartment, and having new babysitting and cooking duties expected of me when my brother and sister were home, since my mom was working.

At the same time, I was adjusting to new kids in the neighborhood, going through my early teen years and trying to figure out who the hell I was. At 13, afternoon yoga in my living room gave me discipline and devotion to a practice that grounded me in that whirlwind of early teen hormones and daily peer abuse in which I was otherwise steeped, and simultaneously dealing with the uncomfortable living arrangement with my mom, because we did not get along. Fortunately, my dad whisked me off to Arizona the following year, but yoga kept me sane during one of the hardest times of my life.

A few months ago, I was thinking about it and decided to see if I could find a copy of the same book. I have been drawn to return to doing yoga because I feel I need it, it’s a calming influence on my life, it’s good for me because I stretch, build strength, and clear my mind. I found a reprint of it, even though the original book is out of print, and bought it on Amazon.

I had just started to go through it again when Jill and Crisann started talking about yoga. It made perfect sense.

Renovations
We are also about to install new flooring and carpet in the upstairs of our house in January, I cleaned out all the garbage that has accumulated in the guest bedroom since we moved into the house 12 years ago. We painted, and I am turning the room into a relaxation/yoga/meditation/stretching space once we get the vinyl flooring. I painted the walls two different colors of blue, and the flooring will look like a light gray oak with slightly bluish tones to it. I can't wait!

Now that Velcro and Gypsy are grown up enough not to be eating the walls and woodwork and are past the puppy stage, it’s time to replace the old carpet upstairs too. We’ll be doing that at the same time. Dennis is going to paint the hallway and trim while I’m in Arizona for Across the Years, and then the carpet gets installed in January. And as soon as we replace the carpet, we are having the ducts cleaned. It will feel so good to get rid of the old dirt and dust.


Still fat
And yes, I am still fat. Not any fatter than I was at this time last year, but I haven’t made any progress at all on the eating changes and exercise intensity front. Except for not eating wheat. I have cut back on the alcohol- not drinking beer anymore, but over the holidays I’ve been indulging a bit. I think we have it out of the house as of tonight- I finished the last of it.

If my legs ever start to feel better, as I’m hoping they will with the addition of yoga and cutting back on the number of days a week I’m running, I am counting on being able to up the intensity as soon as I recover from Across the Years. I’m planning a bunch of events early this year, all for fun but to keep me on top of my training for different conditions- hills, trails, speed, and so on.

I know losing 20 or so pounds would help my lipid profile too. I need to just get with it and I know I can. Things are looking up. I can quit stress eating and drinking. The new Democratic controlled Congress gets sworn in on January 3 and as crazy as the Orange Fuhrer is right now, at least it doesn’t feel completely and utterly hopeless knowing there will be some balance in the Capitol.

Looking forward
I intend to have fun in Arizona and stay focused forward at Across the Years. Whatever happens is fine, I do hope I feel better than I expect to. Undertraining can be a good thing sometimes. My friend Dale Perry (Sasquatch) is running and he’s going to kick my butt. He’s been running his ass off and he’s on chemo. I’m glad he feels so good. Don’t tell him, but my secret ambition is to not have my butt kicked too bad by Sasquatch. Like, by no more than 10 miles or so.

Sizing up Sasquatch pre-race.

I have to admit, that 6-day race is still rattling around in the back of my head. The other day Dennis and I were talking about it, I said, “maybe by age 60 I’ll do it” and he said, “Don’t wait too long.” Good advice. I was really glad I didn’t wait until 50 to do the Badwater double, because too many things changed in those 3 years.

I need to just get myself in a place where I’m ready to dive in. And you never know how long the race will be around, knock on wood, Aravaipa will continue to host it. Guess I need to get my shit together.

Speaking of getting shit together, I have one more day around here wrapping things up at home and for work, and then it’s off to Arizona.

I guess if I back up and look at myself now in the big picture, I’m just going through another life change again- another adjustment to this phase of my life without estrogen, trying to figure out how to master the art of aging while still being an athlete. Hopefully this is just a phase and I’ll get it figured out and bounce forward. Yoga could prove to be helpful again this time.

I’m working slowly on an updated philosophy post, which might come together soon after Across the Years. I’ll check back in before the race, if the mood strikes me, but I really do want to write a race report blogpost after this year’s event. And, by the way, if you're so inclined, you can check out race progress at Across the Years here. The link might not be live until the race starts, but I'm running from 9 am December 30th to 9 am December 31st, Mountain Time.

See you soon!

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