That's What She Said

It's finally winter...

2012-01-15T13:28:00.000-08:00

... and I don't mean that in the sense of "phew, it's finally winter". No, more like "wow, it sure was nice not having winter for while, but I guess it's finally here." 1 degree (F) when I awoke. Can you have only one? Aren't they normally plural? Hey, at least the sun is shining! It's a great day to sit inside and look outside.

Or dress really warmly. That mostly works too. But if it does get back above freezing this week and melts all the remaining snow, I won't mind. I really, really won't. Go ahead, I dare ya.

So anyway, yesterday was chilly too, but not as cold as today, so I chose yesterday for a hike in the Catskills. I could have done it on snowshoes, but opted to go the "sneaker" route as long as that still works. Just a bit crusty with a light layer of fluff. There must be a food analogy, but for the life of me I can't come up with one right now.

Baby, it's cold outside...

In case you couldn't see the snow in the last picture, here's a close-up:

The fun part of snow is being first on the trail and trying to figure out the animal tracks - these look canine, maybe coyotes? The tracks were blown over in places and at least a day old, but they stayed with the Escarpment Trail for a few miles (and maybe further, as I turned down onto a side trail from there).

View toward Albany:

A photogenic ice formation:

The creek ain't frozen over yet, but it's getting there...

The top item on this sign is one of the hardest 0.9 miles I've ever done in the middle of a 30K trail race...

I was going to attempt a few miles of running today, but I found out that Pine Ridge XC ski area is actually open - so I went to try out my new boots and the skis Dad gave me. They worked great, and I determined that if you work hard enough (and wear enough layers) you can reach a warm steady state. Just don't stop for a picnic.

Favorite 2011 photos

2012-01-01T15:22:00.000-08:00

Lists

2012-01-01T13:56:00.000-08:00

Seems like a New Years-y thing to do...

Favorite races of 2011:
1. Hardrock!
2. Great Urban Race New Orleans
3. Don't Run Boston
4. Massanutten
5. CNYO Re-gaine
6. Frigid Infliction
7. Pisgah 50k
8. Snowshoe marathon
9. Escarpment 30k
10. West Point orienteering weekend

Fun travel in 2011:
1. Colorado with friends and family
2. ADK's and VT hiking with Mom and Dad
3. GUR Philly and the Solar Decathlon with Kathy and Bob
4. Boston with Sheila and Jeff and Elaine and Co.
5. Beard parent visit and Norman Rockwell
6. Seeing Mom and Dad way more than usual
7. Seeing Kathy Bob way more than usual too

Favorite workout locales of 2011:
1. 14ers in Colorado
2. Climbing in the Catskills
3. Pine Bush running
4. Thacher Park
5. New York City bikeways
6. UA campus and track

Excellent new gear in 2011:
1. Dion snowshoes
2. Mountain Laurel overmitts
3. Thick wool socks
(yeah, it's all about adapting to winter so I can keep training during the next several months...)

Top 2012 racing plans:
1. Vermont 100
2. Urban racing
3. Marathons
4. XC ski races

Happy New Year, y'all!

Last day in the Big Apple - for now

2011-12-28T18:51:00.000-08:00

Monday - a day off! - and a bit of time for some last NYC explorations.

Waiting for the subway to take us there...

Fun sculpture on Broadway! We need to come back to see more of these by the same artist on the same street.

Lincoln Center - memories of last year's Glee finale:

Look what John found for me!

MoMA has a construction wall mural also - notes people have left about their visit (enlarged, I assume):

We had a couple hours remaining, so we wandered around MoMA to see a few more bits of art. The place was crazy-crowded this time.

I like Picasso's goat:

A cast from a piece of the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona (called Stars and Doves) - it's fun finding things that relate to other places we have enjoyed:

Kip will likely figure out this quote immediately (he's a movie quote guru):

My favorite exhibit...

Time to go! We'll be back!

Christmas run

2011-12-28T18:47:00.000-08:00

We did a "journey run" on Christmas day - it turns out that NYC is a great place to run on Christmas. Many more places were open than we expected, we weren't alone on the running paths, and (although this isn't guaranteed every year), we had good weather.

Our adventure started at the apartment in Brooklyn with a 2-mile jog over to the Harlem River and the Broadway Bridge.

Look, Amtrak!

It looks like this bridge can be raised straight up to allow tall boats to pass underneath - that would be something to see.

Around the north end of Manhattan we ran on trails in Inwood Hill Park, where we found this odd thing.

A little bit of uphill for the day, to a high point of over 200 feet!

Feels strange to be in the middle of the woods...

Our southernmost target = Battery Park, a few miles away from here:

The trail along the river began near The Cloisters and continued all the way down the western side of Manhattan Island. Very cool.

John being John:

Imagine living here:

The George Washington Bridge - our friend Markus tells us we should try running across it sometime (although we don't have to start in LA like he did):

Cute lighthouse!

We just can't help ourselves around the public art...

Kayakers on the Hudson! At least they were heading upwind. We had some headwind while running south, but it wasn't as bad as expected.

Pretty birds:

Life imitating art again:

I liked this perspective:

What in the heck is this??

View looking into the bottle - it has a whole set of living quarters inside! One of the odder pieces of outdoor art we have seen in a long time. Or maybe somebody lives there...

Boat butt:

Pondering the meaning of the chairs:

We ran out onto several piers, including this gigantic driving range, complete with gigantic nets to keep the balls out of the river. Wow.

Cute little apple - John read that it used to be at the World Trade Center site:

Shall we dance?

As close of a shot as I could get - from Battery Park (we made it all the way south!):

Heading around the bottom tip of the island, we found some hot chocolate and then the Brooklyn Bridge:

The trail lasted all the way to the UN... and then we took to the streets. I imagine this is prettier when there are a bunch of flags and color in the trees:

We found a little pizza shop for lunch :) and stopped in Grand Central Terminal to use the bathroom...

John led the way up Fifth Avenue, dodging tons of tourists and practicing our urban racing skills. He took me to this statue in Central Park - Alice in Wonderland with oodles of children:

Several of the quotes around her had significance - memories of NOLA 2003 Urban Challenge:

Right next to it, a tribute to a couple urban racers who were at that race:

Unrelated to urban racing, but a highlight for John:

We ran through Central Park and found this holiday-themed street on the north side - my final goal for the day!

We ran up to 125th Street and hopped on a subway for home. It was getting late and Harlem doesn't have a lot of appeal at the end of a long day. I'd like to try running around the whole island at some point, as I think it's possible to stay closer to the East and Harlem rivers on the east side. Another day when we have more daylight and won't be quite as distracted by things that we have already seen :)

"Welcome home!" from the kitties!

One of our most interesting Christmas days that I can remember!

NYC wanderings

2011-12-28T18:28:00.000-08:00

Our second weekend in New York City!

First, we had to get some work done on Friday. John was focused. I had Kitten Distraction Syndrome.

The calm between the storms - and really the only way to get a non-blurry picture:

Oh wait, I got one!

On Saturday we started with an elevator ride to the top of the Empire State Building for some beautiful views:

In the sun and out of the wind = warm. Out of the sun and in the wind = cold.

A fun Christmas model:

We did some walking around town and spotted this amazing parking garage thingy:

Brief trip to Hell's Kitchen to check out the flea market (I suspect it's bigger during the warmer months - the market, not Hell's Kitchen):

John reserved free tickets for the 9/11 Memorial, so we headed downtown to the financial district. One of the new buildings going up:

The memorial is amazing and sobering. We very much like the design of the two fountains.

The museum should be open next year inside the leaning glass:

One of the many nice Christmas trees around town, this one outside the NY Stock Exchange:

Christmas bull:

Several of the construction areas in the city have interesting murals along the outsides. Seems like they are trying to make it a bit less of an eyesore. This one has examples of crosswalk symbols from around the world:

We ducked into a balloon and toy store to escape the cold wind for a few minutes, and we were pleasantly surprised at all of the fun things to look at, old games, and gag gifts. I know a few folks who might be interested in this for a punching bag:

What game are we playing again?

There are some angular streets making for interesting building designs. ("Angular" only gets worse heading into the West Village!)

We had lunch at The Hummus Place - fabulous! I should have taken a picture, but my focus changes completely when I'm around good food...

An interesting sculpture in Christopher Park, related to the Stonewall Riots:

Beautiful street in Greenwich Village:

And finally, a church turned into a marketplace (reminding us of Scotland where they have turned a church into a bar):

A nice start to Christmas weekend!

A Tail of Two Cats in the City

2011-12-21T04:48:00.000-08:00

We got super lucky recently with an invitation to stay at a friend's place in the Bronx and cat-sit for her during her holiday vacation. It coincided with a weekend that we were already coming down for a holiday party with Ron (thanks Ron!), plus Christmas weekend when we didn't have solid plans yet. So I get 2 weekends in the big city and John gets that, plus the weekdays in between. Score!

Our first night downtown - 'tis the season to brave the crowds and see the amazing lights and skating rink at Rockefeller Center:

And giant Christmas tree!

The Music Hall nearby:

The Bronx cats are Leo the kitten (a.k.a. "Monster") and Lulu the cat (a.k.a. "Sweetheart but pretty boring compared to the little rug rat").

I tried a photo shoot with Leo, but it was really difficult to capture him in one place, even at a higher shutter speed... he's just so curious! And funny!

This worked for a few seconds:

Lulu was much easier:

Leo even came after the camera itself:

Play toys helped - it only took about 10 shots to get this:

Sigh...

OK, back to the city - Rockefeller Center rink in the daylight:

St Patrick's Cathedral:

Globe Man:

Could the Cash Cab be going past us right now?? We should keep an eye out...

Buildings are wrapped and ready for the holidays:

We spent the afternoon wandering around the Museum of Modern Art - fabulous!

Who doesn't like puppies?

A Christo piece - much smaller than others we have heard about:

Claes Oldenburg - the first sculpture of his I've seen that seems to have melted:

I looked at this and thought "huh, looks like moules-frites from France" (mussels and french fries) - and sure enough, that's what these are:

Modern art!

After a week of work, I'm back in the Bronx and ready for more sightseeing and walking and running around town.

Merry Christmas, y'all!

Weekend of running

2011-12-11T12:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we drove up to Camp Dippikill for the "Adventure Race" run that the Albany Running Exchange hosts each December. We were excited that John was able to experience it this time. Last year was great fun and craziness, and this year did not disappoint.

This time 106 runners started out sitting on the dirt road and then taking off our shoes and holding them in the air. When we all had our shoes off, the RD said "Go!" and we raced to put them back on so we could start running. John apparently never unties his shoes anyway, so he just slipped them back on and he was the first to stand up and start running. I was thinking I was doing well with the Salomon slide laces, but I wasn't as fast as John! I followed him around the cabin and joined the initial rush into woods to follow pink ribbons wherever the race organizers decided to take us.

John led the way for a while and eventually the fastest guys caught up and passed him. John said he had a lot of fun with the obstacles - walking on logs over creeks and ponds, using trees to climb rock faces and descend steep drops, and scrambling up and down steep inclines. Most of the race involved off-trail travel through the woods (with a few trails thrown in for recovery), up and down big and small hills, trying to keep track of the pink ribbons.

Based on my experience last year (and being not quite as enamored as John about the obstacle traversing), I followed the more common approach of finding ways around the obstacles while not losing track of the course. There aren't any real rules, as far as I can tell, except to generally follow the pink ribbons until you end up back at the start.

Which mostly involves an hour+ of anaerobic, pell-mell running through the woods, trying to keep from getting whacked in the face by branches (usually from people immediately in front of you, although some were self-inflicted) and trying to keep from going off-track or getting run over by someone right on your tail. Like a free-for-all orienteering event where you don't have to think about the actual navigation part. Not your average running race!

I saw one woman pass me early and she was running fast enough that I didn't think I would catch her (I didn't). I also followed a group of guys on a rare trail section and I think we were all so happy to be on a trail that it took a bit before someone noticed that we were no longer following pink ribbons all of a sudden. No pink, no pink! I yelled at the next guy running toward me after I did an about-face to run back the way we had come. We spotted the ribbons over to the left and rejoined the frenzied masses on the right course.

Apparently a few folks made an even bigger error and did not actually go back to fix it. This somehow involved cutting off a big chunk of the course, because toward the end I passed a woman running relatively slowly. That was weird - I had to check that she had a race number on (she did). It didn't make sense that she had gotten by me on the little detour that had cost only a couple minutes. I guess it was possible. But then there were more slow people, I passed another woman I had not seen before, and a total of 3 women beat me. I have a suspicion that I could have been the 2nd-or-so woman if things had gone correctly (John also told me he passed a ton of people running much slower than him near the end, and that made no sense to him either, especially the women that had never passed him but were now ahead of him - he had started at the front and didn't go off course like it did).

In the end, it was a race for fun, so we didn't fret over it. After all, everyone seemed to be free to make their own decisions about the obstacles, so it's not like you can get hung up on the fairness of the results. It's all good :)

We got in a few bonus miles when our car ran out of gas (which I can't find any way to blame on John, perplexingly) and met a nice fellow runner named David who helped us make the final couple miles to a gas station and then back to the car. Thank you David!!

Today we ran the HMRRC 15k road race around U-Albany and the state office roads. Back to my road running roots! That was fun, especially with sunshine and blue skies, starting slow and easy and gradually speeding up to race to the finish line. I haven't run a 15k in so long I don't even know what my PR is :)

I've spent the rest of the day going over possibilities for winter-spring racing. Looks like another fun mix of running (roads and trails), a winter adventure race, snowshoeing, XC skiing, even a Ski-O event. It's a challenge figuring how to train here in the winter, but at least it usually involves doing different and interesting things. Just gotta stay warm! So far, so good...

Beard family visit to Albany

2011-12-11T12:39:00.000-08:00

John and his parents rode Amtrak from east Texas via Chicago to Albany - 2 nights on the train! They got to see a lot more countryside than we normally view on plane flights between TX and NY.

John drove them over to Cooperstown to visit the Baseball Hall of Fame - they are big baseball fans, so this was a special treat. We're lucky that we live so close to it.

I'm not sure what this is about, but I guess the exhibits were NYY-heavy:

This is better - at least get the Bo-Sox in on the action:

I got to join the crew for the short journey over to Massachusetts to see the Norman Rockwell Museum. It sounded like something rather interesting, but turned out to be a really special place that we all enjoyed tremendously.

On the other hand, I'm not sure what this is about (on the front lawn):

Ready for our visit to the museum:

A toy train running around a diorama in the front lobby:

We couldn't take photos in the rest of the museum, but we really enjoyed the guided tour and then wandering through all the rooms reading the stories behind the paintings and Saturday Evening Post covers. NR was prolific and talented, and we learned a great deal about his life and art.

Then we took a tour of downtown Stockbridge where Mr. Rockwell used to live and work. They just happened to be doing a recreation of one of his scenes of Stockbridge at Christmastime, that was quite neat.

The car with the tree on top from the painting:

Modern art:

There were many classic cars parked along the street as part of the painting recreation:

And some carolers at the Red Lion Inn:

We had a super visit with Jenny and Jerry - thanks for making the trip to Albany!

(Don't) Let It Snow

2011-11-26T18:47:00.000-08:00

This happened shockingly early in Albany:

Happily, it melted quickly and only once since then I've seen slight flurries that gave up as soon as they hit the ground.

Last week a big storm blew through the northeast right before Thanksgiving. The weatherpeople were very excited. I woke up to rain and didn't think much of it.

That is, until I started driving north to my parents' place in VT the next day - it didn't take long to start seeing white stuff on the ground. It got more substantial the further north I drove.

Friday after Turkey Day, we ignored the stores and went up to Bolton Valley for some snowshoeing. Snowshoeing, what?? Completely unexpected to me - luckily Dad mentioned that they had been shoveling the driveway (what??) so I grabbed my boots as I was walking out the door in Albany. Mom supplied the snowshoes and the cute puppy dog, and we had a fabulous outing in the sunshine, with blue sky and white trails.

Renee demonstrated how she can fetch Mom's hat in return for a treat:

Bam, it's winter.

Amazing amount of snow all in one dumping:

Finishing up a fun day on the trails:

Back in Albany now - phew, it's still only brown here. John, it's still safe to come visit :)

GUR NOLA

2011-11-16T18:17:00.001-08:00

Time for the Big Dance! The crazy, fun, always full of surprises, entertaining, tough, interesting urban racing national championships!

We traveled to New Orleans for the Great Urban Race semifinals and finals races last weekend, and as always, GUR put on a top quality race that we will be talking about for years to come. And it's always the most fun when we spend the weekend with our urban racing buddies. Y'all rock!

Some of our friends at the start - Darin in the Twisted X jersey, Spencer taking a photo, and Dave listening intently to the announcements while John preps his gear:

Kip wrote an awesome race report, complete with pictures of the clue sheets, if you want to see that at http://www.kipley.com/uc/gur2011neworleans.html.

Right before 9 a.m. we collected a clue envelope and waited for the "GO!" signal before ripping it open to see what was in store for us on this beautiful Louisiana morning. Hmm, the charity drop-off up north on Canal Street is an obvious initial destination. Nothing else stood out, so we jogged out to Canal Street to look for a trolley and discuss for a minute.

No trolley, but no other obvious plan of action, so we started north. John astutely noticed the center square of the tic-tac-toe could be obtained in a nearby cemetery (and maybe we'd get lucky with a trolley after that). So we sped over to find an above-ground tomb showing a birth date prior to 1900. This may require a zoom to see the date:

We ran back to Canal Street and greeted Jim and Darin who also appeared to have the same idea about the cemetery, hi guys! No trolley - wait, there's one WAY back there. We decided not to wait and took off running instead. It never got close behind us, but John kept an eye out while we ran.

It was fun greeting a couple other teams along the way. The first checkpoint - Chickie Wah Wah! (too funny) - was mostly empty when we arrived to learn that we needed to wait in line for a dance lesson. While we waited, we hunted around for the specific slogan ("This is not that kind of place") for this picture:

Other teams arrived, and the volunteers set us up as a group on the dance floor. We got a lesson in some kind of swing dance (maybe?), then they started timing us for 3 minutes of dancing. We seemed to get better at it, but I guess that wasn't really the point - after 3 minutes they let us go.

Right as we got out the door I realized that we also needed a flyer (I may have heard the team behind me talking about it, not sure), so I ran back in to grab one from the table. Several different flyers were sitting there in piles, and I'm not even sure how they verified that each team completed the dancing task once a crowd started gathering. Mostly I was just in a hurry, so I grabbed one with the restaurant name on it, and we took off again.

No trolley. Well, except the one we could see up ahead of us but couldn't catch. We ran further north on Canal to Jefferson Davis Parkway. Sheila told us there was one CP in each direction, so John picked a right-hand turn and we ran over to the beer garden while I checked the clue sheet. Geez, why are we getting to a BEER checkpoint before Jim, Darin, and Robyn? That didn't seem like great planning on our part :)

On the other hand, the challenge wasn't about the beer, per se. It was about unscrambling a whole bunch of letters to make 8 different names of local Abita beers. At least we were given the 8 starting letters. But all the rest of the letters were scrambled all together, not one line at a time. I read the letters in to Sheila and we got to work on the research, Sheila online and us at the nearby beer cooler reading off possible beer names.

Several seemed pretty obvious (Jockamo, Purple Haze, Turbodog) and we liked Andygator for one of the A's. Vanilla looked good for the V. But then we started getting stuck. While working through the remaining letters, we took a minute to locate the poster for our photo at this location:

Jim and Darin (aka Brew Masters) showed up, and later we also saw Kip and Dave. A huge crowd of confused teams was gathering. People were making guesses, so I tried a couple too. The volunteer with the answers gave no hint of what was right or wrong. Someone (Jim/Darin or someone on the crew) came up with SOS for the S, which was a good guess. "Light" was also a guess, for the L. We had a second "A" left, maybe Amber or Abbey Ale. But we had a bunch of letters that didn't seem to help - something with gold or good or lager? They weren't making this easy.

We knew we were losing all kinds of time, and we were bummed to be so close (at least we thought we were) and not able to figure it out. Finally we cut our losses and left. Maybe the crew would come up with something while we were still in the area.

We ran across Canal St to the other Jeff Davis checkpoint at a tattoo place for a picture with Bruce Willis (hope this wasn't one of our friends from 2009):

I volunteered to get the temporary tattoo, so I went to the side room where a very nice and efficient (thank you!) man applied this to my arm:

Trying to read the clue sheet with the other hand didn't work too well, so I had to call John back for a little help. Soon we were done and out the door. Much better, finally a fast checkpoint!

We ran back to Canal Street and a few blocks north to the Walgreens for the charity drop-off. As we approached it, we saw a trolley heading the other way back toward downtown. Bummer, we were not hitting the trolleys at all that morning.

Just then Sheila came on the line to tell us that the beer checkpoint was solved! Jim and Darin had cracked the code! Well done, y'all! We had been missing "Vanilla Doubledog", a special edition beer that wasn't prominent anywhere we all were looking. Wow.

Jim and Darin were on their way up to Walgreens as we ran back to the beer garden. Thanks y'all! We ran in and got our stamp (the volunteer was still really coy about it until he FINALLY gave the OK). Done with the northern CP's, only wasted, hmm, maybe an hour on that? Not something we expected to recover from, but we had to focus and get through the rest of the course before we could consider the consequences.

Time to move! And hey, there was actually a trolley a ways up the street, coming our way for once. We waited for this one and started mapping the rest of the points. It was nice to finally catch a break, and we were happy to wait to get on board. We talked about skip options and which order to get the rest of the points. Carrying a balloon around the remainder of the course seemed like something we might save for the end :)

Back downtown, we jumped off the trolley to get running again. John led the way over to Tchoupitoulas Street and we paused briefly to get our picture with a street sign that contains at least 13 letters (tic-tac-toe square):

Not far from there we found M's Cafe where we had to answer questions about the New Orleans Saints. Not too hard. And fun to find out that their mascot is a Saint Bernard.

A couple blocks away was Lucy's Retired Surfers Restaurant (funny!) where there were tables set up outside for our next challenge. We had to "flip" a plastic monkey and a plastic mermaid into a glass, using little plastic surfboards. The volunteers were great with getting us set up and explaining the task, and soon we were off and flipping.

Amazingly, I was the first to score. The monkey was apparently easier to predict than the mermaid that John was working with (although that didn't stop me from flinging monkeys all over the table and the street in the process). Eventually he flipped a mermaid into the glass, so we gathered up the whole kit and kabboodle - monkey, mermaid, surfboards, flyer - and we were on our way.

Continuing down Tchoupitoulas, we found the Preservation Resource Center for CP11. While waiting our turn to do the challenge, a volunteer led us over to this pretty dollhouse for our photo:

We watched the teams ahead of us doing a balance pose, and jumped right into it, but the volunteer made us start from the beginning. Joining us was another team from the dancing challenge - hey, I know you! Hopefully I didn't step on his feet this time around. The volunteer was all calm and slow-like and "Hi, my name is Alex, and I will be your yoga instructor today". I was all in a hurry-like and "That's-great-I-love-yoga-let's-get-this-show-on-the-ROAD-ALREADY!"

He guided us through a couple trust balance poses which were actually pretty cool (and only slightly harder being sweaty), and finally we were done.

We took off to cross Magazine Street, didn't see a bus anywhere, so we ran up to St Charles to try our luck with the other trolley.

Nope, still no luck. Time to run again! We ran along the trolley line for a ways until it was time to turn off toward the Magnolia Mansion where we were handed umbrellas and beads (?) and a flyer and were told to pose for a photo:

We worked on stashing everything as John led the way back to St Charles. We decided we were skipping the checkpoint on Magazine - which turned out to be Juan's Flying Burrito, my pre-race CP guess. I never guess right! At least we didn't miss a free Chipotle burrito AGAIN. Someday we'll get us one of those...

Anyway... hey, there's a trolley that is actually going our way! Run, John, run! He did catch it and we jumped on for a nice breather. Another bit of trolley luck, and we'll take it.

After a few blocks we got off to run over to New Orleans Party and Costume. We were making a Mardi Gras mask, cool! "If crafted carefully, it could last until Mardi Gras" - yeah right! We smeared on the clue, dunked it in sequins, piled on 10 feathers, and sprinkled on the glitter - done! Good thing I didn't have to wear this to the finish line.

The volunteer offered to pop the balloon for us to carry (thanks!) but he only managed a small hole for a tiny leak. Once we got outside, John took care of that right quick, and the loud "Bang" scared a lady next to us - sorry 'bout that!

We ran up Camp Street and over to the House of Blues on Decatur for our Carnival Krewe trivia game. I managed a couple of small errors but we eventually got our stamp and then this photo:

We ran right quick to the finish line to find some friends (old and new) with 4 musical instruments...

...and a couple of Cafe du Monde hats for us :)

Word was that there was still a spot or two open for the Elite Eight. This was pretty amazing news, apparently many people also got very stuck on the beer unscramble. So we went to dump all of our stuff on the check-in table to get a verdict.

And the verdict was ... we were missing a flyer. Remember way back at the first checkpoint with the dancing where I almost didn't grab a flyer? Well, I was supposed to get TWO of them, one for the location and one for the activity (the Jitterbugs folks). And just like that, our day was done.

Well, that was pretty sad. Not much more you can say about that.

On the (very) bright side, 3 other Austin mob teams made the finals, we got to help in the afternoon, and Kip and Dave won the whole darn thing! Now THAT'S an amazing way to wrap up a weekend!

Hikes in the 'Dacks

2011-10-24T04:41:00.000-07:00

I met my parents and their dog Renee up in the Adirondack Mountains this weekend. We managed to fit in a little exploration of that area (first time for me) before we have to start thinking about winter and stuff. But we did catch the tail end of fall color, and some of it was spectacular (just not so easy to photograph while I was driving).

Renee waiting patiently to get moving:

I started with a warm-up hike up Round Mountain. Some of the trail was wet and muddy, but the section to the top was rocky and interesting instead:

Nice views from the top, even with a mostly-cloudy day:

We did a drive-through of Lake Placid and made plans to go back and explore all the fun Olympic sites like the ski jumps:

The next day we tackled a steep trail up Hurricane Mountain. It started so nicely in a pine forest:

Partway up we ran into a large swamp that was a challenge to cross. But we eventually made it without getting our feet too entirely soaked.

Renee waiting for a treat:

The start of the steep half mile to the top:

We made it! Beautiful views of Lake Champlain, Vermont, the Green Mountains...

...and much of the Adirondacks in the other direction, including Mount Marcy (NY high point) somewhere in the clouds.

Couldn't climb this fire tower, oh well:

Another treat for the patient puppy:

Beaver activity!

There used to be a trail here, pre-beaver:

A fun boardwalk over a marsh:

Renee leading the way back to the car:

A fun weekend, delicious dinner at the Deer's Head restaurant in Elizabethtown, excellent company, and a wonderful introduction to the ADK's. I'll be back with John in tow!

TARC Fall Classic 50K

2011-10-09T11:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I drove to the Burlington Landlocked Forest near Boston to run in the TARC Fall Classic 50K race. It's a relatively small park, packed with fun trails and enough room for a 10K loop that we ran 5 times. I was surprised how quickly the time passed even doing multiple loops - there was plenty of variety, whoop-de-doos and corners (would be fun on a bike), and it was interesting learning each section and getting a better feel for the course each time around.

I started a bit more conservatively than my last 50K at Pisgah, but still let my legs move at their own speed, and the first lap went quickly at just a hair over an hour. There were 3 other races going on at the same time - 10K, half-marathon, and a marathon. The last 2 had 1 or 2 tiny loops to complete at the start before following us onto the big loop, so plenty of fast folks passed me in the first loop. Later in the 50K I started lapping some other folks, but it wasn't ever certain who was doing which race. That made it easy to focus on only myself and not worry about competing with anyone.

Basically I had a time goal of 5:30 - surely I could beat my first-lap time from Bandera? The second and third loops went well, only a couple minutes slower each time and I still felt great. I drank my nutrition each time through TA and my stomach digested it by about the same point in each lap. Then I would feel great at about the same place on the course and be able to run well back to the start.

The woods and trails reminded me a lot of Rocky Hill Ranch and Huntsville SP. One section in the middle had us running back and forth and around and around, seeing other runners going in all directions. I was so relieved to come out of that the first lap still going in the right direction.

I was still running fine during the fourth lap, excited that I would see each section only once more and then I'd be done. I focused on drinking most of a full bottle of Gatorade/water mix each lap, especially as the day got warmer (maybe up to 80 degrees). It was beautiful and cool in the woods, but I knew I was working up a pretty good sweat.

As soon as I started the last lap, my right thigh started twitching. I immediately stopped and took an S-cap salt tablet. I wasn't messing around this time. It was curious that it was my thighs that were twinging this time instead of my calves. Maybe because the course was mostly flat compared to the longer hills we climbed at Pisgah, and I was working different leg muscles harder.

I still had to take it easy on the short (sometimes a bit steep) uphills to keep my legs from cramping. I did some deep breathing and tried to relax. I was happy that I could still run but disappointed that I have not yet figured out the cramping problem. The best I can guess at this point is some combination of lack of heat acclimation and not being ready to push hard for 5+ hours (i.e. need some faster running in my long runs to combine endurance and speed). This race I took in plenty of liquid and electrolytes, and it felt like my stomach was processing it all just fine.

I kept an eye on my watch, managed to keep a pace that was only slightly slower than lap 4, and actually passed a couple people along the way. One woman, I found out later, had been the lead female the first 4 laps. I had been running in 2nd place but never asked (I didn't want to know, truthfully). I passed her in the last lap, and while running to try to break 5:30 I managed to hang onto the lead.

Coming in at 5:27 and change, I was just happy to finally hit a 50K time that seemed reasonable. When they told me I was the first 50K female finisher, I was quite surprised. 2nd place came running in a couple minutes later. Wow!

A neat award!

Another fun race on another beautiful day! And the leaves are starting to change up here, a wonderful combination with the multiple days of sunshine :)

Philly GUR / DC Solar Decathlon

2011-10-01T14:25:00.000-07:00

Urban racing fun! In a city we had not even been to before (well, except the airport). We weren't sure how this was going to go, but we were excited to find out.

We got our clue sheets and decided to start with the charity drop-off for Ronald McDonald House. This was at a CVS on Fairmount Avenue, and the subway seemed like a good option for getting us part of the way there. We ran over the Spring Garden station and shared the platform with a few other teams and a bunch of noise from the expressway. At least we could kind of talk with Sheila there - once the train came and we went underground, we were cut off for a few minutes.

We scanned the clue sheet for other ideas, and I just happened to be looking at the tic-tac-toe board when a couple ladies boarded the subway. "Take one picture of all teammates with two strangers holding four visible shopping bags" Hey John, get out the camera!

We got off the subway and headed up the stairs to reconnect with Sheila. We had also spotted a checkpoint at Logan Square, so we ran there since it was on the way north. We had to find the flag for Cameroon and act out the sport that their team "Les Lions Indomptables" play. There weren't any obvious flags flying, but John found the country's sign and we got this pose (bonus points for figuring out the sport):

We briefly tried to find the Franklin Institute on 20th Street, but couldn't quite figure out the address on the run, so we returned to 19th Street to the Rose Tattoo Cafe for CP 6. Another team was already there, but apparently the race volunteer was not (oops!). The guy in the cafe explained this to us, handed us a menu, and we took turns with the other team taking each other's photo to prove we had been there:

We decided to leave the Franklin Institute for the way back, and instead ran north to Fairmount and a little west to Philly Flavors. Inside we found volunteers holding up giant posters with 2 similar photographs. We had to find the 3 differences between the pictures. After a couple minutes we had them all and a race stamp on our clue sheet.

A couple short blocks away was CP 10 - Mugshots Coffeehouse. They had a "Wanted" poster posted that we had to pose in front of. A GUR volunteer volunteered to take our picture, so we handed the camera over for this shot (John's better - much better - at the spur-of-the-moment poses):

As we continued down Fairmount, a team ahead of us was taking an unexpected picture at Zorba's... what is that? We try not to ignore potentially useful information, and luckily John figured out that they were getting a photo with 2 guys with mustaches - part of the tic-tac-toe checkpoint. John asked if that would help us, so I checked the grid - heck yeah!

The two men were happy (well, at least one appears to be happy) to have another intrusion on their break, and someone else offered to take our picture:

We continued a short distance to the CVS for the charity drop-off and collected a flyer in return.

While John tried a couple places for "a piece of fruit that is not a banana" (the final square that would give us a completed row on the tic-tac-toe), I chatted with Sheila about our next checkpoints and the map. We were psyched to have the tic-tac-toe done so we could skip a different checkpoint, and she had one already in mind for that.

John ran out of a market with a plum - nice one! - and we started running south and east back toward the Franklin Institute. This time we needed to find it. Eventually we spotted a huge building across the street, and just to be sure I asked the cop who was directing traffic. Yes, silly tourist, that's the Franklin Institute. With the hugest statue of Ben himself:

Our next set of checkpoints was located a few blocks southeast, far enough that Sheila was checking on bus options for us. She suggested if we ran south to Market, we might find a bus going east. So we ran south, and HEY there's a bus! Good call, Sheila. John was still trying to find Locust Street on his map, so I had to ask the bus driver if he would wait for John to dash across the street and jump on board. The driver didn't seem to mind. Although John's enthusiastic "jump on board" resulted in him sliding and falling over, so the driver probably had second thoughts about that decision to wait.

John was fine, and we made our way to the back of the bus to work on checkpoint locations with Sheila. A few minutes later we looked up to see that we hadn't passed City Hall yet, and the bus was stopped in a long line of traffic. It was an easy decision to jump off and run. At least we had gotten a brief break out of the deal.

We ran several blocks to "More Than Just Ice Cream", where we picked up some sweet, sweet apple pie (I think? Well, whatever it was, it was good!) We got a shot of one teammate feeding it to the other (required), then I got to eat part of it (optional) and I also dropped the other third on the floor (drat!).

We exited the ice cream place and John started down an alley. We popped out on 12th Street immediately across from the yoga place that was checkpoint 11, although it took a minute to see that we had done so. Our back-and-forth searching probably looked pretty funny to the ladies watching from inside.

Once we found the place, we went inside to learn that we needed to take our shoes off for a yoga lesson. Awesome, I have always wanted to do yoga as part of an urban race! Now if we could just score a free Chipotle burrito someday, my urban race goal list will be complete...

The yoga lesson consisted of one sun salutation, which was quick and fun, especially with socks on a slippery floor, and I enjoyed it so much I managed to mess it up, but the instructor didn't seem to mind. We got a flyer with a free yoga class coupon - if anyone from Philly wants it, I'll send it to you.

We headed east a short distance towards CP 7. We had a slight communication snafu where Sheila suggested one street and John took a different one, then we thought we were supposed to turn left on 10th Street when we were actually supposed to go right... my info-relaying skills weren't working too well. But we eventually found the fitness place.

The cluesheet didn't mention a challenge here, but it didn't surprise us that we needed to go through a workout routine. We did some jumping jacks and some kind of "tall, small, flat, small, tall" thing that is really impossible to explain without pictures, then a hula-hoop twirl. That didn't work with a waist pack, but they let me twirl it around my arm, cool. For our last trick, we had the choice between a plank for 30 seconds or a handstand against a wall. A handstand, yeah right! Even John knew better than to try that.

Then we were outta there with a bottle of Fuze (John drank it) and our coupons for a free class. You can have those coupons too, although I'd do the yoga instead, personally.

One more checkpoint! We made our way toward 3rd Street just north of Market, dodging cars and pedestrians. We even made opposing decisions about which direction to head at one intersection and ran smack into each other. That's a first!

We also hit the Independence Hall area square-on, which John realized was a mistake since there were so many people. But we were there, so we took advantage of a cross-country diagonal across the lawn. That almost turned into a disaster, as we passed a family and I swerved to avoid a kid. Suddenly a second child swung around a pole right into my path! I managed to get by with only a slight bump, but I apologized as profusely as I could to the parents. The idea of knocking a kid over scares me.

We made it to the vintage clothing store without further child-collision incidences. There we found 3 outfits in the window, and we had to determine which decade each one belonged to. Oooh, this just got interesting. I told Sheila we might need her help - if you know me at all, if you've even met me once, you know that fashion and looks are the last thing I worry about.

We picked out the 70's outfit immediately, and it was so obvious that I can't even remember what it was. Maybe watching all three Austin Powers movies recently helped. The next one had a skirt that looked like it should have a poodle on it, and Sheila confirmed that the 50's would be the right decade for that.

This left a rather ambiguous (to us) pink dress with lace over (maybe) satin, plus a skinny, straight, shiny purple tie. Ugh. We were stuck trying to fit it into the 20's or 30's, which didn't match anything Sheila was coming up with back in the early 1900's.

Well, we decided to try "20's" and that was not correct (although the 70's and 50's were right). We had one more chance, and if we didn't get it, that was it - yikes!

Slightly desperate, we headed inside the store to look around. John had an amazing idea to ask some women who were shopping in the store if they wouldn't mind helping us? Sure, they would love to! After a brief conversation with the woman working there about how actually it was OK to get help (she wasn't going to help us, but that didn't mean strangers couldn't), John took the women outside for a look at the dress. Immediately one of them declared it was from the 80's. Wow, she sounded really certain.

I went to look again, while Sheila mentioned that skinny ties had made a comeback in the 80's. Suddenly I could picture Molly Ringwald wearing this outfit. It finally made sense. It still took me a moment of hesitation before writing it down - what if we were wrong?? - but I finally did. We were right! We were so excited!

Wow, that was CRAZY.

Time to book it to the finish. Sheila had been talking about the subway, but John was already on his way out to Columbus Street. Let's get there!

We ran it in, surprising the race folks with our arrival. That's usually a good sign. Sure enough, we were the first ones back. We piled all of our various pamphlets and papers onto the table and showed our photos - they were good - good enough for 1st place :)

What a collection:

What an awesome race! GUR is so much fun. Top local racers Ed and Nick finished not long after, and team Holy Cow came in third - in costume! Wow! Kudos to these ladies:

Messing around before the awards ceremony:

We had a couple hours so we used our spare subway tokens to go back to town to look around a little more. The Liberty Bell (the original one) behind glass:

An amazing display at the Reading Market (awesome place):

After the GUR awards and costume contest, we drove down to DC to see our friends Kathy and Bob (yay!). It was a quick visit but always a joy to see them.

We spent Sunday wandering around the Solar Decathlon near the Jefferson Memorial:

Fun and interesting houses! It's a competition among college teams, and the entries were amazing and varied. We really liked this one from California:

Also the Canadian house with a native American theme:

This one uses recycled shipping containers:

The New Zealand tour was great fun - always enjoy listening to Kiwi accents. They also had a great light fixture over the dining room table:

I got back home via car, bus, train (transfer in NYC - grab a slice of pizza!), and car. Phew! What a great weekend! I needed a couple days to recuperate after that... and now I'm caught up on the blog posts! Catch ya later!

Pisgah 50k

2011-10-01T04:55:00.000-07:00

I went into this race a couple weeks ago hoping to learn how to pronounce the name of it, but the race director didn't have a megaphone for the pre-race announcements. By the time I had worked my way forward to try to hear him, I caught "so watch out for that" and basically "Go!" It turned out there was a huge bee's nest somewhere on the course, but we would be rerouted and hopefully no one would get stung. Great, now I had 2 things to think about.

I started running like I did at the Bull Run Run - thinking about what I was capable of at Bandera (twice) and deciding I should be able to do that again. I did ease into the uphill on the nice road at the start, speed-walking and loosening up. At the top the road was lined with beautiful trees with beautiful sunshine pouring through. Very pretty!

Yeah, I've got no photos for this post, I suppose I should tell you that now in case you want to skip to the next one (assuming I have that written up soon)... for a couple shots of the area, you could check out the race blog:

http://pisgahmtntrailraces.blogspot.com/

Although it doesn't do justice to the awesome trails we ran. Maybe it was a fluke with the weather, but I experienced an amazing 30 miles of trail running, winding back and forth through the park without ever (well, except a tiny bit) repeating itself. Yep, I need to bring John to this one.

Anyway, back to the details. We hit the trail at the end of the road which also corresponded to a nice long downhill. Never one to shy away from fun descents, I bombed by a few folks and by the time the course split into 50k/23k there weren't many runners around me.

The run going south was slightly technical here and there, mostly flat, and I was feeling good. I passed a few more people, eventually coming slowly upon a man and woman who were chatting as they ran. I wasn't in any condition to "chat" so I figured if they stopped talking and focused on running they would likely be faster than me. Sure enough, as soon I went by, they went silent.

Not a surprise, the woman caught up to me now that I had turned her attention in a different direction. What did surprise me was that she didn't pass me, she just stayed right on my butt as I motored along. I wasn't keen on slowing down nor speeding up, and I figured something would happen eventually to change the situation so I should just be patient and deal. It was way early in the race, after all.

We zoomed through a couple gates, passed up the first water drop, and thankfully found the next section with several decent uphills. I changed to speed-walking and the woman took off. I figured I would not see her again - and that was true. She was obviously talented - and fine with running up steep hills.

I worked the uphills and enjoyed the downhills, and I really enjoyed the gorgeous trail which alternated between single track and double track. What a beautiful day!

At the first manned aid station I refilled my bottle and filled a Spiz baggie. This was a great place to fill/shake a Spiz, as the course goes up a really steep, old paved pothole-filled road. Weird. It seemed the guys around me were moving well and working hard. I drank the Spiz and let them go on ahead. By the time I got to the top I was alone. Works for me.

The trail was again loads of fun, even the next big climb didn't bother me at all. The downhills were short and fast, then I was just running through the woods for a while. I passed through the next aid station and waved at the man taking numbers. I was on a good pace and happy to still be pushing fairly hard.

The next dirt road may be the straightest line of the whole course. I was a little confused at the direction/location of the sun in the sky, but there were a couple other runners and plenty of ribbons so I just kept running (it makes sense looking at the map after the fact). Two men who may have started early (I think they were wearing race numbers?) were hiking this section. When I passed and greeted them, they told me I was the 4th woman. Well then, that's neat. I guess top 10 was a reasonable goal after all.

I went back and forth with one guy a few times in the middle miles. He had good uphill speed, and I was making good time on the downhills and reasonable time on the flatter stuff. He got ahead when I stopped to make a Spiz at a water drop, but I eventually caught him as he was eating right before the next aid station.

Apparently I snuck up on the guys running aid station 3, because I was at the table before they even saw me. They said they could hear some folks coming from half a mile away. I also figured since they had zoned out, there probably wasn't anyone to chase down anywhere ahead of me. But I still wanted to keep up a good pace.

Well, this next section isn't conducive to any kind of "good pace". Forget whatever minutes-per-mile you may have been maintaining, it all goes out the window here. Uphill Man came by as I hiked up a huge climb. He suggested we might be climbing Pisgah Mountain. Sure hope so, I'd hate to do this again later in the race!

Not only that, but I knew the course would overlap slightly before the next aid station. I was just really, really hoping we would be going back DOWN this mountain before that happened...

The view at the top was very nice, from the quick glance that I got when the trail detoured to the one open spot on the whole hill. And there were hikers with dogs, so I guess this was the mountain for sure. Awesome.

The trail took another little odd detour, which I guessed was for the bee's nest. I didn't see any bees, nor a nest for that matter, but I was happy to forget about that worry. Downhill, yay! Back down, down, down to swamp level, so that was good.

This section took forever. 2.9 miles, really?

I finally found the spot where the trail converged from the left, or at least I guessed that's where it was. They did a great job of not putting any ribbons on the 2 trails coming in, only a bunch in the direction you needed to go both times. So it wasn't an obvious merge, but I made a note for the next time I came around. I started a timer and got to the aid station in something like 6 or 8 minutes from there (the hazards of not writing a race report immediately - I forget little details that might come in handy next time; well, that's assuming I think to re-read my previous race reports, which stupidly I almost never do).

Where was I? Oh yes, an aid station. I filled a Spiz, even though it was a little quick since the previous one and a few long miles until the end with no Spiz remaining in my waist pack. I carried it for a mile+, which was a good decision since the trail went directly downhill to the south. Eventually I stopped to drink, and then the trail went downhill some more but my stomach handled it OK.

I knew this was the quick "half" of the Kilburn Loop. Obviously we were going uphill to get back, and with extra distance too, perhaps 3-3.5 miles vs. the 2 mile downhill run. I was ready to be patient with this section and figured it could take a while.

And it did, but I was. One guy passed me, but for the most part I was completely alone and completely fine with that. Speed-walking uphill was still working well. I tried to figure out where I was and how close to Kilburn Pond, but it was all fruitless. Just follow the pretty trail, you'll get there eventually.

Sure enough, (eventually) I found the same merge, and again it wasn't obvious that the course also came in from the right. Excellent course marking, I couldn't imagine anyone making a wrong turn there. I checked my watch and started running since I knew I was finally close to the aid station again.

It was odd passing a few runners who were coming into the aid station for the first time. They didn't look particularly back-of-the-pack-ish, so I figured my pace was pretty solid.

I filled my bottle and got a cup of Coke for a few calories. I gambled that I would not need many calories to finish this thing out. Only 5.5 miles or so to go, I should be able to do that...

Right out of the aid station there's a nice downhill on a road. My right calf started twinging like it might cramp. Hmm, that could be bad. Or maybe it will go away. I don't normally (hardly ever, really) have leg cramp problems, but ever since the REgaine my calves seem to be more susceptible. Or maybe it's the humid air, I don't think to drink as much here as I do in dry climates. I downed some more Gatorade from my bottle.

From a parking lot the course starts up a nice trail uphill through the woods. More talk of cramping from my calves. I debated stopping to fish out an electrolyte tablet from my little med kit. Instead I went with drinking more liquid. I had a very clear conversation with myself - if I ended up with cramping issues, it was obviously this decision that could have changed the outcome but didn't.

I was fine with keeping a reasonable pace, even passing a couple guys who were struggling up the hill. Then I looked back - gah! - there's a woman! That does it. I have to run.

Yeah, great combination. Pushing hard and cramping calves. Not! I tried my darndest, and my legs occasionally relaxed and let me run for a while. The steeper downhills and uphills were hard. My right thigh got into the act with the little cramp twinges. I looked back and saw that I had gained some ground. Now if I could just... keep... running.

That, sadly, was not to be. The more I tried, the worse the cramping got. My legs were finally like "HEY! What ARE you doing?" and in order to really get my attention they seized up altogether. I was sitting on the ground when the lady went by. She nicely asked if I was OK and I told her yes, just cramps. Within a minute, as my muscles were slowly (come ON already) releasing back to normal, another woman zoomed by. Wow, she looked pretty fast. So much for 4th place. But I sure wish I could have been there for that shoot-out at the end! Apparently the 2nd woman passed up with 1st to come in 4th. The math made sense when I wrote it.

I got up and ran/walked along, taking my time and letting my legs dictate the pace. I was ready to try a salt tablet but I was out of water and I have a hard enough time swallowing them as it is. Eventually I found the last water drop, where I sat and finally got one out to down with a cup of water. Might as well try to help my legs recover enough to drive home after this end-of-the-race fiasco.

So I had a leisurely run down the road, wishing I could push but deciding to take what I could get and be thankful that I was almost to the end. I looked back a couple times, but didn't see anyone. One last climb up a paved road, there's a stop sign, around the corner to the finish. Yay! Another woman ran in a couple minutes later, so I can be thankful I didn't have to deal with that while on the course. Yep, top 10 was a good goal.

OK - another race, another (different) issue to fix.

Final time = 5:42:28, 6th woman, and room to improve

Summary = Awesome trails, excellent race, I highly recommend it!

Another high point

2011-09-29T04:29:00.001-07:00

After a fun time in Boston, we drove west across the northern part of Massachusetts. This actually turned into a brief adventure when we found roads closed and detours in place. We got to see some Irene-induced road repair in progress - some places were rather hard-hit. We did eventually make it to North Adams and the parking lot for Mount Greylock.

It turned into a beautiful day for a hike. We didn't get rained on, and there was even sunshine at the top.

And we reached the highpoint in another state, yay! We have now reached 1/5 of the US highpoints. Maybe if we settled down in one region and focused for a while, we'd start hitting them with more regularity:

Our US highpoint tally

This one has quite the monument at the top. Along with a road if you want to drive up there...

Mountain relief:

We were (ever so briefly) on the Appalachian Trail, cool!

No one seems to agree on the actual height of Mount Greylock. The mountain itself thinks it is 3,491 feet tall.

Climbing up the tower - hi John!

Typical New England view (when you get one at all, that is - and usually without the building in it):

The lodge, built by the CCC (thank you yet again, CCC!):

I don't expect we'll ever hike the whole thing, but it's fun to follow for short sections:

Someone really should do something about this bridge:

John contemplating the heft of this stick - yep, it's a good vegetation whacker:

We had a fun run downhill, with John (and his stick) moving trail brush out of the way and then running fast past me, repeat. A satisfying end to an excellent weekend.

A Boston adventure

2011-09-28T04:47:00.000-07:00

The stars aligned and we got to visit Sheila and Jeff, along with Sheila's sister and her family, in Boston earlier this month. Plus it was a beautiful day, great for some sightseeing.

Sammy and Johnny at Faneuil Hall:

Playing in the fountains to stay cool:

The North End - ah, Italian!

The Old North Church:

Local tour guide:

Hanging out with Paul:

Great taste in bike accessories:

More great taste! (at Mike's Pastry)

Pair of grumpies:

John redirecting water with his mere hand:

Pretty view across the harbor:

The Freedom Trail:

Getting ready to climb the Bunker Hill Monument:

Views from the top:

What were we thinking? :)

Old Ironsides:

A ship in dry dock:

Another pretty harbor view:

John found a minor highpoint to climb...

Thanks for a fun weekend, y'all! Boston's great, can't wait to go back and explore some more.

Catching up - random shots

2011-09-27T17:55:00.000-07:00

Hi! I'm back! And trying to keep from getting shut out of September posts... for starters, here are a few photos from random places.

Memories from July:

A couple shots of Irene - from indoors, of course:

Our friend Markus ran from LA to NY this summer! Congratulations! He just made it to Central Park before the hurricane hit, thank goodness. Apparently the city is pretty quiet when most people have evacuated. He and his wife Brandi came to Albany to visit on their way to Toronto.

A little bit of car cleaning:

And finally, here is what John has been up to (literally) lately:

CNYO Rogaine

2011-08-31T05:57:00.000-07:00

John is in town (yay!) so we ventured a couple hours west last weekend to try our hand at the CNYO 24-hour rogaine near Utica. John hasn't been running much this summer, instead doing a lot more real work than our travels normally allow. John's luggage was misplaced by Continental Airlines, so we were working from a set of scrounged gear. Plus there was a hurricane on the way - you can't beat that for a good excuse!

We got our maps an hour before the start and put together a nice strategy for an afternoon loop with much of the tougher nav plus a longer overnight section to the north that included a good bit of road running. We thought we were ready when they said "Go!" at noon, but partway down the first trail John realized he hadn't packed any Spiz baggies. It's always fun retreating to the starting line, but at least he figured it out early and we weren't stuck a long way from TA without anything to eat. That didn't keep me from grumbling a little, eventually filing it away under "Things we will try not to do when it really matters."

Running along the horse trails was nice, as the trails were mostly in good shape with only occasional short sections of mud. We speculated that a downpour would change all of that, and figured it would be good to get as much done as possible before Hurricane Irene moved in. John and I co-navigated to the first checkpoint, adapting to the gentle map contours and learning to stay in the woods whenever possible to avoid crappier vegetation in the open areas.

We had a slight delay in finding the checkpoint while we recalibrated our position, but John did great in figuring it out and soon he was punching checkpoint #69. We were the first ones there, no real surprise since it wasn't an obvious starting point for the southern route.

John led the way through the woods to a creek junction where we saw another team in deep discussion. We had a chat of our own, then located a little bridge and the trail we were looking for. Up the trail to the road, down another road, and we jumped into the woods where some heavy machinery was sitting next to a muddy track.

We wondered if this track was on the map as we followed it into the woods. When my pace count ran out without finding a creek, we figured we must be too high up. Just a little poking around led us to the creek and checkpoint #86.

Back to the road, we ran until we hit an intersection where we went back into the woods and over to a pretty pond. CP #44 was on a peninsula and only required a short bit of bushwhacking to reach it. Watching the time, I wondered if we could keep up the pace of 2 CP's per hour - that's what would be needed to clear the course. It seemed feasible for a while but probably not overnight. The vegetation slowed us down a lot, there was some distance between a few of the CP's, and overall we weren't ready to push hard for 24 hours.

We came back out to the road and made a quick turn down another road to a small trail. While heading up, I suggested to John that we hop over to the next spur and climb through the woods. This worked out great since there was very little undergrowth in that area, and we soon reached checkpoint #76.

From there we tried a bushwhack for 300 meters, but in this case it would have been quicker (and less painful) to run down and around on trails. We had to fight through a bunch of blackberry bushes and other green trash. The only plus side was the chance to try a couple of berries that came within reach of my berry-loving fingers. Some were bitter but some were pretty yummy.

With some relief, we popped out on a trail and followed it over to a marsh. John led the way through some small trees on a bearing toward the checkpoint. It was funny that we couldn't see the CP at all until right before we came upon it - good thing our bearing worked out. We punched #37 and came back out to the trail before some voices rounded the bend behind us.

We could have considered skipping #33, but we were still working on the "clear the course" strategy, which I believe is good practice for us for future events. Plus we had a nice run on trails and then a fun downhill through the woods to find #33 at the bottom where the park boundary hit a creek. Plus we got to cross the creek on a fallen tree, so that was fun.

After trying briefly to find a trail or the park boundary on the other side, we turned our attention to climbing the hill. It was easy-enough going and eventually we found the road at the top. It turned out that we weren't far from a really pretty clear-cut path next to the park boundary, oh well.

We ran down the paved road and over to a side road where there was a "Valet Parking Only" sign that seemed a tad out of place in the middle of nowhere. Not far into the woods on the top of a hill we located CP #43 and a water stop. This was a nice place to refill bottles and drink some water from the big jugs. We greeted a 12-hour team and then followed their footsteps out of there.

We weren't sure about crossing non-park property to get back to the park, but we decided to try it. At the end of the road we found a house, no cars or signs of people, and a trail leading out the back of the field. That worked OK, so we headed up the hill and picked the right fork of 2 trail options. Toward the top the trail was pretty overgrown, and as we were pushing through the vines I felt nettle slide across my arm and legs. Crap! I hate nettle. Hate hate hate

John hit a patch too, so we were suffering together from the stinging as we finished the climb. At least NY nettle isn't as bad (so far) as TX nettle, so it was short-lived suffering. I still hate it though.

We ran on trails and roads for a ways, eventually coming to a field that we considered crossing. I talked us out of that, having no love for fields with high grass in this area. Up ahead we saw a couple pop out on to the road, and John suggested we go in where they had come out. I talked us out of that too, after seeing all the brush in the woods below. So we climbed up to where there was a trail marked on the map.

We never found the trail and ended up going through the woods anyway. At the bottom we pushed across the tall grass to a lone tree and CP #56. Getting back was much simpler because other teams had beaten down a path in the grass toward the woods. From there we aimed up to the road, coming out pretty much at the exact spot the previous team had. Something to remember...

Back down the road, we climbed a trail to CP #79 at a park boundary, then stayed on a logging road until it turned away from the direction we wanted. We didn't really want to descend just to climb back up, so we contoured around and eventually found a huge field with some mowed trails and a bird watching stand.

We met the same couple from the previous CP on the trail and chatted with them briefly. They asked us about a rock wall, but we had not seen it. We ran on ahead to a side trail and then tried contouring around a hilltop. This area was marked solid white on our map, which should mean that it's mostly easy travel. That was definitely not the case - more pushing through vines and prickers instead. By the time we reached CP #67 by a pond, the same couple was approaching from an obviously smarter direction.

All of us followed a small creek, and then they stopped to rinse off in the water while we continued on to a road. We crossed a main road and ran along a trail toward a powerline pole. The checkpoint clue did warn us that it was in a marshy clearing, so it wasn't a huge surprise that we needed to get our feet wet to reach #49.

The next route choice was interesting. I had assumed we would use park roads and then go cross-country to the checkpoint, but John wanted to try roads and trails that cut across non-park land. Seemed reasonable to try, if only to possibly make things entertaining.

So we started up the main road and turned onto a road around a lake. There was supposed to be a solid trail off that road, but it wasn't there. This was disappointing, as our route choice had been based on that trail. Ah well, too late to turn around. We entered the woods and John did a kind of a zen thing where he found an old, faint doubletrack that eventually reached the park boundary and turned into an old trail. It was exactly what we were looking for, except for the part where it was all overgrown.

We had discovered that John had grabbed 3 Spiz baggies instead of 4 when we had run back to the TA at the beginning, so we knew we would be a little short on nutrition on this loop. That was all the excuse I needed for grabbing blackberries and stuffing them in my mouth whenever I got the chance. I tried to do it on the fly, but was only partial successful with that method.

Eventually the overgrown trail turned into a nice dirt track, coincidentally at the same time we left the park again. We saw a large house in a field, another house over there, and a third in between the two. So we aimed for the woods, trying to stay out of earshot of any potential ornery dogs, and that worked out. We actually found what might be a path for riding horses that someone had mowed, and it led right back to the park. We were so lucky about that - this strategy could really have backfired on us. I didn't expect to get this type of adventure racing experience this weekend!

The only question remaining was exactly where we were once we got back into the main woods. We didn't see any park boundary signs, so we followed a small road briefly until my compass gave me a hint that we might want to try the other direction. We scanned the woods for boundary signs, not sure if we needed to drop down lower, until John spotted the CP flag. Sweet! #66, done.

We ran down through the woods and found an open field that had been hayed. This easy travel was not to be resisted. We crossed the field and found a nice way down to the creek and a not-so-nice scramble up to the road on the other side. We passed a barn and a couple houses, but the only sign of a canine was a dog that slept through our presence. John remarked that this was a nice change from Texas.

Following the road, we found a little trail leading north. Another team greeted us on their way south, always fun to see other folks on the course. CP 48 had some water jugs, so we refilled our bottles enough to get us back to the TA. We knew we would be short on food, but at least I could give my stomach some liquid to keep it busy until it noticed it wasn't getting any actual calories.

Through the woods, we contoured around a hill and eventually found our way to the next road (declining to tie ourselves up in some blackberry brambles and instead going a longer way around). At least I got to scrounge a few more berries. From the road we found another trail heading upward. John handed me a Gu Chomps (or I guess that would be a "Chomp") to chew on for a couple more calories and to give my teeth something to do for a while.

We climbed above the trail to locate CP 63 at the top of the hill and the far western edge of the course. Back down to the trail, we ran a short ways and then cross-countried it to the road below.

We had already removed 2 CP's from this loop due to darkness concerns - the vegetation and our legs were not allowed for the speed we normally expect. At this point we were aiming to get back to the hash house, and there happened to be 2 checkpoints along the way and both were worth 80+ points. John told me that his training (or lack thereof) would be a challenge for staying on the course the full 24 hours. He was fine for walking a lot of it, but also concerned that once the hurricane hit we wouldn't so much enjoy (nor have an easy time of staying warm in) a downpour. We decided to get back to the TA and look at adding on a few more points before calling it a night.

We followed a trail down to a creek and then followed the creek upward for a ways. It was a gamble to try to stay along the creek, but happily the vegetation was sparse in this area and we moved OK through the woods. Eventually we found CP 81 a little further than expected, I guess we were weaving a bit back and forth across the creek. And maybe our strides were getting shorter, so the pace counting needed some adjustment.

A bit more creek-following and some slight vegetation-fighting, and we came out on a nice road. It was a long uphill, and John was moving slowly, so I pulled out the towline just for kicks. I've always wanted to try towing someone. I would not have guessed it would be John! I chugged up the hill with John talking about how much fun it was to be on the other end of the line :)

We turned up another road and up to a jump-off spot toward a shallow saddle. The trees were pretty dense and it was hard to see much of any contours. As we were cutting back north to try to figure it out, I spotted something white through the trees. We stared for a second and realized it was the plastic bag covering the intention sheet clipboard for CP #87. Score!

From there it was a short uphill trek onto the road and then a jog back to the hash house. We gathered food and water refills along with our lights and rain jackets. It was just starting to get dark and we could not have timed that any better. The folks running the hash house had some delicious food going, including some super sweet corn, so for the first time in a rogaine we actually sat and ate in the middle of the event. That was pretty funny.

We chatted with folks and I compiled a short-ish loop with another 8 controls for some nighttime nav. Before we got too cold (as we were quite damp from the humid air) we decided we better get moving. We figured we would likely get wet before we finished, but hopefully we'd beat the main storm coming later that morning.

We started down the trail and downhill to a trail intersection, taking a bearing and walking up on CP #89. That was a nice start to the night. It took a minute to push out to the next trail, then we ran/walked north and navigated a couple intersections. My legs were rather stiff, my feet were getting sore, and my whole body was thanking me for the decision not to run for another 14 hours. We talked about using this as an excellent motivator for training correctly for our next 24-hour event.

After finding a road we turned left and started toward CP #88 which was next to a small pond. Some lights appeared ahead of us but we didn't quite see where they had come out, when all of a sudden I heard frogs singing. Hey, that could be a clue! We entered the woods, found a small creek, and stopped to listen again. It sounded like the frogs were upstream, and sure enough, there was a "pond dam" as John called it - a concrete outlet into the stream.

The frogs went silent as we approached, then John spotted the checkpoint reflector which was reflecting in the water - even though he couldn't see the reflector directly. That sentence might be a little awkward to say out loud. We punched CP #88 and then hiked back up to the road.

We headed north on a road and chatted about races and training and how it was fun being out here on a short loop with no pressure. Turning down a trail, we met a team coming our way and they cheerily answered our greetings. A short ways down we found a stream and turned to investigate an old abandoned building that was a bit eerie in the dark, then climbed up the hill just a bit to locate CP #73. So far, so good tonight.

We retreated back to the road and crossed over for another out-and-back. This one was longer and required some bushwhacking and was worth less than half the points of the last one. Hmm. The trail nav took some attention, and I had a moment where I was back in Bastrop State Park on the purple trail. Then we were bushwhacking through blackberry briars and it was a lot closer to Stubblefield in Texas. Lovely.

The park boundary wasn't obvious, neither were the contours nor the creek on the map. Luckily it took only a short bit of floundering before John spotted the checkpoint reflector. That could have been worse. We punched #34 and worked our way prickily back to the trail and jogged out to the road.

After climbing a hill, we turned right and located a side trail leading north. I pace-counted and watched the map, finding a good jump-off spot to lead us to #41 in some pleasant woods. Again retracing our steps, it was time for a long downhill road run to the west. That part was fun! We were both running downhill well and the distance flew by. It was odd seeing houses with TV screens lit up inside - we were at the northern edge of the park. The section we would skip had a decent amount of road running to connect to another section of park around the hamlet of Brookfield.

We ran south briefly on an actual main road to find a large area for staging horse-riding in the park. CP #82 was at a water spigot. We were still carrying enough water to finish this loop, so we didn't try the spigot. While looking for the trailhead we greeted a couple horses who stared at us trying to figure out why there were people walking around in the middle of the night when most sane folks are home watching TV.

The trail climbed a long ways, and we had a nice walk through the dark woods. The "night loop" consisted of 8 checkpoints, and for every checkpoint so far I would remark, "well, that's 1 checkpoint without rain," and then 2, 3, etc. We had made it up to 6 and it was nearing midnight. All the weather reports had predicted rain in this area starting at midnight. As we skirted various mud puddles full of horse hoof prints, we were continually thankful that it had not started raining yet - this would soon become a super muddy mess.

We greeted another team on their way down the hill. They asked if we were doing the 12-hour course? We told them we were doing the 13-to-14 hour version :) At the top of the hill we found a dirt road and followed it for a ways until we located a side trail angling off to the right. I pace-counted and then we ambled down through the trees looking for a small ditch.

Overhead we started hearing drops of rain landing on leaves - I looked at my watch and it was 12:02 a.m. That's a pretty accurate forecast, right there! We didn't find the ditch and theorized that we had overshot slightly, so we contoured back around. As we crossed a very slight waterway, John suggested it might be the ditch. We climbed a short ways and located CP #72 - nice going, John!

Time to start back toward the car, with one checkpoint along the way. We found a trail on the other side of the road - this trail was already quite wet and muddy, and it had not really started raining yet. The sprinkles overhead went on and off for a while, but we weren't getting wet enough to pull out the jackets.

We ran on the trail for a while, making a 90-degree turn downhill toward a swampy area. There were boards over the worst of it, so that was nice. I pace-counted and we spotted a trail coming in from the left. This was our cue to head to the right into the thicket. We were going only 300 meters, but the clue for checkpoint #46 was quite detailed: "Center of 8x25 Clearing (dry pond, no frogs, dense approach)". It was pretty funny that we actually understood the purpose of the "no frogs" comment, after our earlier experience.

Taking a careful bearing and starting a pace count, John led the way and tried to avoid the worst of the brambles. The crap got worse, but we eventually came to a small clearing. No control. We continued on slowly until the ground started slightly uphill, signaling that we had gone too far. Climbing over downed trees and under bushes and vines, we tried another direction and found another small clearing. In fact, there were several strung together, all right in the (seemingly) correct general area. No control.

The problem was that we couldn't get very far in any one direction before running into walls of vines. And "dense approach" could mean piles of crap surrounding the actual dry pond in most, if not all, directions. And in the dark, we couldn't see for nothing to tell if more of the same was going to get us anything except even more highly scratched up.

We forged ahead until we figured we had gone over the saddle to the north, based on the slight contour change. We tried one more time, skirting the western hill until we found ourselves back in one of the same clearings we had already been stuck in. It's weird when you start recognizing specific branches and trees you've previously scrambled over.

That was enough for me. We called it a night and worked our way back out to the trail. It's not often we give up on a rogaine checkpoint, but this seemed like the appropriate time to do so. We ran down to a road which we followed east, then climbed up a road and trail to the hash house. Sometime around 1:30 am we rolled into camp, turned in our punch card, and sat to enjoy some more corn-on-the-cob.

The rain was starting to pick up as we packed up - must be time to go. We told the race directors "thank you!" and started back home. This turned into something of an adventure in itself, as John had to deal with thick fog for an hour while I slept. I woke up in time for the fog to clear, and drove the rest of the way in pouring rain. We made it home fine, grabbed just a couple items from the car, and ran inside to shower (boy, were we wet and smelly) and crawl into bed. By the next morning the hurricane was in full force - wind and tons of rain, but luckily no serious problems in our neighborhood. As we were heading to a local diner for breakfast, we could not imagine still being out in the woods...

We did what we could, got what we wanted, learned some things, and we'll be better prepared next time (when there probably won't be a hurricane we can use as an excuse).

Weekend in NYC

2011-08-23T04:31:00.000-07:00

A weekend without Hardrock training, without other plans - what do I want to do? I want to go to New York City to see my friend Ron - finally! No more weather-related postponements, and even though John couldn't make it this weekend, it was time to check it out.

I took Amtrak from Albany - so easy! And a really nice ride along the river.

The train took us to Penn Station where I got out to walk a few blocks, take in the tourist atmosphere of that area, and be a tourist myself.

Hey, so this is where Buffy is hanging out these days:

A bit of modern art in the fashion district:

Times Square is not as large as I had imagined - how do they fit all those people here on New Year's Eve?

The city felt a lot like Paris to me - in more ways than one:

For Kip:

This display caught my eye while waiting for the subway:

It was a beautiful day to explore Central Park:

The running track around the reservoir is really nice:

The American Museum of Natural History experience:

For my Texas friends:

It's a turtle? It's stupendemys!

Apologies to Ron for the "double chin" shot :)

Ron took me over to Brooklyn to see the Brooklyn Museum (really nice, reminded me of a large scale Blanton Museum) and the Judy Chicago "Dinner Party" exhibit which is spectacular. I'm totally bringing John back there.

We made a quick stop in Chinatown for dim sum (yum!). One of the quieter streets in the neighborhood before hitting the crowds of Canal Street:

It was a wonderful, fun weekend and I'm looking forward to more city exploration, hopefully with John too!

On the train ride home:

1-888...

2011-08-04T04:44:00.000-07:00

It's not the start of a phone number - I'll explain...

I'd heard that the Escarpment Trail Run 30K was interesting and fun, and it's nearby in the Catskills. You can tell that a race is slightly abnormal when it takes 4 stamps to enter (including 2 SASE's). After sending in my entry, the reply was "Due to a stroke of bad luck, your entry into the Escarpment Trail Run has been accepted". Nice!

The race started on the west side of Windham High Peak and followed the Escarpment Trail up and along the high ridge over to North Lake. There was a road at the start where the shuttle bus dropped us off, and a road at the end where people parked their cars, but that was it for civilization. Unless you included the rockin' aid stations in the middle of nowhere.

Speaking of which, I really should have done more research before race morning. The instructions told us to carry water, that there would be minimal aid and not to count on any. So I toted my light pack with a couple water bottles. At the start the announcement came that there were 7 to 8 aid stations. What? Well, that just made one bottle completely useless (and now empty). I could have easily gotten away with one hand bottle and a waist pack.

At the word "Go!" we funneled onto the singletrack trail, taking almost 2 minutes to get running behind the crowd of folks waiting their turn (and there were plenty more behind us). I seemed to pick a good spot in terms of pace, around people running up the less-steep inclines but still hiking up the steeper stuff. Soon everyone was breathing and working hard.

Nice trail through the trees - roots and rocks - switchbacks - pass a couple people here, get passed by someone there - trying to find a good pace for the first (and longest) climb. I was looking for a side trail landmark, but either it's now overgrown (unlikely!) or I was very focused on my feet/the folks around me (likely!) and I didn't see it.

So this made the climb seem really long, until I recognized some scenery and realized I was almost at the top, which was a pleasant surprise. Last time I was here everything was all white and cold. Quite a different experience today!

In less than an hour I was at the top, and hey! There's an aid station up here. Weird. I still had some liquid in my bottle, so I went on past and started down the first steep drop. Part of the fun of this trail is the challenge of big rocks, ledges, drop-offs, and little puzzles to figure out. I have some adventure racing friends who would enjoy this too.

I drank an Ensure and got to work on a couple short ups and downs. In the next major saddle there was another aid station, so I got some Gatorade from the enthusiastic volunteers who had hiked everything up there. I climbed up to Acra Point and started along a stretch of trail that I hadn't been on before. It was actually partly runnable, so I made a point to run as much as I could and keep my feet moving.

Eventually I caught up to a train of folks going just slightly less fast. I was (mostly) content to follow and recover a bit, as I knew there was a big climb not far in our future, and passing multiple runners is a lot of work. Other guys caught up and the train got longer. Finally someone couldn't take it anymore and the melee of people passing people started. Not one to pass up an opportunity like that, I jumped in front of the slower runners too and was back to running my own pace.

Another aid station at another trail intersection, and they told us we were almost halfway. They didn't mention the immediate challenge - the climb up to Blackhead Mountain. I had been up the mountain previously in training, but not up this particular trail. Oh, it's a doozy! 1000 feet just about straight up in less than a mile.

This got my breathing and heart rate up, I tell you what. Also, this is the point where I realized that I had been training all summer to climb - but at a reasonable pace. THIS was not reasonable. It was race pace, all-out barely on the edge of sustainable pace. My body was starting to question my logic. My brain wasn't getting enough oxygen to question or answer anything.

So we climbed, a group of us doing our best to scale the rocks and dirt. One woman was talking (?) and asked if everyone else was suffering too? I was lung-limited and could not answer. Finally we heard cowbells and there was the top. Oh my word.

Another aid station! Jeepers. I stopped to drink the Spiz I had filled at the base of the climb, and saw a couple women go by. Now that the focus of the climb was over, it was time to get a little competitive. Except my Spiz timing wasn't good, I should have downed it before the climb to let it digest before trying to run downhill. I had to take it a bit slower for a while, not to mention being careful on the technical down-climbs.

Someone came barreling down behind me, and I assumed it was a guy who had done this previously (we were going back and forth between uphill and downhill). Nope, it was a woman in a white shirt, just bounding down the hill and making it look effortless. I was amazed, and wondered what she was doing back here with me. Especially when I saw her ahead running uphill too. Apparently she started too far back and had been working all morning to pass people. Impressive.

There was a little climb, then a long downhill to Dutcher Notch. I made my last stop here to get water in a bottle and in my last Spiz baggie. Then on to the final climb. I knew this one was in stages (verified by another runner who had been doing this race for many years), each stage separated by a long flat section. Just when you think "maybe I really did reach the top already" there would be another climb. Look for the airplane!

That's a photo from a training run earlier this year - I was back on a trail I had seen before (and it hadn't even had snow on it last time). My legs were so excited to see this, because it meant I was almost to the top at Stoppel Point. I must have been going at the proper pace for this length of race, because boy! was I getting tired!

Another aid station at the top, wow. I kept going, looking forward to some runnable sections. There were plenty of rocks to work around, but my legs were still game for hopping and picking up my feet. It was getting harder, but I was motivated to get my feet all the way over the rocks. I had only a couple little stumbles, all resulting in "good catch!"es.

We weren't quite to the real downhill part, but the runners around me were still moving at a good clip so I just tried to keep up. I passed a woman on a downhill (she had been a climbing monster), then found the final aid station at North Point. I accepted a cup of Gatorade, hoping that it plus a little water left in my bottle would get me to the finish line.

I passed a woman named Hillary on the rocky down-climb out of the aid station, and she was really friendly. There was more talking now that we were on more of a downhill section, plus there were some interesting down-climb challenges to laugh about. I ran ahead, looking for "Badman's Cave" and finally found it.

Plenty of technical trail right at the end - I was so glad I had seen this part before. My feet weren't excited, threatening to cramp up if I wasn't careful with my foot placements. I guess I was a bit dehydrated. I was certainly sweating up a storm. I had already taken off my bike gloves (seemed like a good idea for hand protection), hat, and sunglasses. The pack was good for schlepping stuff, anyway.

A couple more (slow) miles... a photographer appeared below me right at the most interesting spot in the whole course. Here's a photo from the race website of the guy who has been winning every year (Ben Nephew) - he apparently jumps down this drop.

I obviously do NOT! I climbed down with the help of a nice tree. I'm sure the picture will show me clinging to its trunk - if they post the photo I'll include it here later.

And after long last - here it is:

One kid came running past asking if I thought we could break 4 1/2 hours? I replied that I couldn't see my watch. He said we were at 4:23 - then not a chance. I wasn't completely sure what was between here and the finish, but I could think of several spots that would slow me down. Sure enough, there were those spots plus several others.

I kept pushing the pace, as I could hear runners behind me. No other women appeared ahead of me to pass, and I couldn't take my eyes off the trail to see who was behind. I made one small detour in the last section of trail (it would help to know this trail better) and then I was on the run to the finish chute. 4:41, and that was all I had. Phew, and wow! What a fun race.

Results are currently posted here

I noticed I placed 8th female, and John mentioned that was the same as Hardrock. Amazingly, also the same as Massanutten! So the numbers in the title of this post are my placings for my last 4 ultrarunning races (starting with the TARC Don't Run Boston 50-miler - in which I was the only female, so that sorta doesn't count).

8th it is - I'll take it!

La Plata Peak

2011-07-28T16:19:00.000-07:00

We finally managed an early morning climb by sleeping in the truck at the La Plata trailhead. The truck had been slow in starting, and that morning when John tried to turn it on so we could warm up for a few minutes, it didn't start at all. The prudent thing probably would have been to try to take care of it that morning. Instead, we went for a hike.

It was a gorgeous morning, how could you not want to be up in the mountains?!

I'm not sure what this summit pose is supposed to represent:

Parkour!

Scenery ... again:

Fun rocky trail:

Nice marmot:

On the way back to the truck. I wonder if it will start now?

Checking out the fast-moving water - glad there was a bridge for this one:

And... no, the truck (which is named Tug, by the way) wouldn't start. No amount of fiddling or reading the manual or jumping it would help. So began the work of figuring out how to get it to the repair shop in Leadville. I almost got a picture of Tug on the flatbed tow truck, but the camera was still IN the truck at the time, bummer. The nice guys at the shop did some diagnostics, but it was clear we weren't getting it back that day. And it was Friday afternoon before July 4 weekend. Hmm....

Our friend Danny is so kind, he loaned us his truck to take to Silverton, then his friends Mark and Ken drove it up to Silverthorne for us. What a bunch of wonderful guys! We are very much in your debt.

And that concludes our pre-Hardrock mountain climbing. Excellent training in a beautiful state!

Antero Attempt

2011-07-28T16:07:00.001-07:00

Many years ago, John climbed partway up Mount Antero, but didn't get to the top because he was with a guy who wasn't quite ready for such a long hike at altitude. Antero was one option on my list of several options around Buena Vista, and John was partial to it, so away we went. We kept saying we would get up early and start when we were supposed to, but we had not accomplished that yet. This morning was no different.

The weather looked OK when starting out, just a few clouds. On the road toward more road up many switchbacks:

Higher up, it was clear that some kind of weather was moving in.

We made it to 13,800 feet but did not push for the summit because of dark clouds fast approaching. Turning around, we ran downhill and dropped quickly away. We were a good bit lower when the hail started, but nowhere near the shelter of trees yet. I didn't know it then, but this turned out to be really good practice for Hardrock (and this is as close a shot of the peak as we got):

Then the sun came out! Should we go back up, John asked? No way! We'll just have to try again another year - maybe John's 3rd time will be a charm.

Then more thunder, more clouds. About a mile from the truck it started pouring. Ugh. We ran down the hill in soaking wet shoes. It was a good test of my rain jacket for the race (it passed, so that was nice).

We headed to Bongo Billy's where we sat on the porch, drank warm drinks, and watched storm cloud after storm cloud roll across the mountains and through town - crazy weather day:

Democrat-Cameron-Lincoln

2011-07-28T15:31:00.000-07:00

Another "catch-up" post from our Colorado trip... we did a second double-14er day, and it was a good one. It was kind of a triple-14er, but not really, or I guess it depends how you count it. It could have been a quadruple, but the top of Bross was closed. I'm not sure how you "close" the top of a mountain, but we didn't go up there to see if there were fences or armed guards.

We drove up as far as we could, parking just below the first big snow field across the road. It almost looks like foamy surf:

The view up the valley where we were headed:

We weren't surprised to see snow over the trail:

It was good practice for kicking steps in snow on the side of a hill:

Saddle up! (No, I just mean there's a saddle... up)

Finding a good way up Democrat was tricky. The actual trail headed into steep snow fields and lots of talus. We saw Sombrero Guy glissading down - and then I think we saw him again on a bike heading up toward La Plata a couple days later?

It was a scramble involving boulder hopping, but we made it to the top, yay!

Hmm, what pose should I try next?

I used this one for my Hardrock Twitter account photo :)

Why, yes, I will try a tasty piece of dark chocolate yumminess, thank you.

We headed down the ridge instead of trying to pick our way down the way we had come up. This worked out MUCH better and I was glad John had suggested it.

Heading up to the next mountaintop:

We had to walk around the top of Mount Cameron to figure out where exactly the highest point was located. It was weird - first it looked higher over there and then from "over there" it looked higher back where we just were. Anyway, we got to the top... somewhere:

It was just a slight drop down to the next saddle before starting up the trail to Mount Lincoln. Because it's so shallow between them, and Mount Lincoln is higher, apparently Mount Cameron doesn't really count. But that won't stop me from putting it on my 14ers webpage.

Karate Kid:

My version from a less impressive location:

Starting down the trail, admiring the views:

Incredibly, we ran into a couple from Norway who has raced with a Norwegian friend of ours. I guess we each look like adventure racers to each other, so we had to stop and talk. How funny to meet them on the top of a mountain!

The road over toward Bross had many colorful flowers:

If you can see the faint colors on the hillside - those are all flowers. Pretty!

We crossed below Bross on a connector trail to finish a big loop and head back down to the truck.

Phew, another long day! I started each day slowly, waiting to see if my body was ready to climb in the altitude again, and it kept agreeing to go uphill, so that's what we did!

Grays and Torreys Peaks

2011-07-27T15:38:00.000-07:00

Our first double 14er of the season - it was a day for Grays Peak and Torreys Peak. We parked down at the interstate and hiked up the road (someday we'll get 4WD, and in the meantime we get more of a workout).

Crossing the footbridge at the start of the trail:

This sign gets a lot of press in the 14ers.com trip reports. I can report that it was still partially snowed under the day we went (June 27):

Hello, Marmot!

This was unexpected - Hello, Billy!

I don't recall John ever actually RUNNING up these mountains (I know I didn't), but it kinda looks like it here:

Dark chocolate Kit-Kat reward for reaching the summit of Grays Peak:

Yay!

Another Yay!

Impressive scenery:

Another delicious Kit-Kat, once we reached the top of Torreys Peak (John, I think that's the short straw, so I get the rest of the chocolate...)

Snow on the summit:

Looking back at Grays:

Snow fields on the way down:

I guess I better get used to this...

Day 2 = another good climb, another amazing day in the mountains

Mount Bierstadt

2011-07-27T15:20:00.000-07:00

Pre-Hardrock altitude acclimation (PHAA?) included climbing several 14ers, as many as we could do in a week. They were all straightforward and accessible from Denver and Buena Vista.

We started with a fun hike with Ryan and Kelly, up Mt Bierstadt on a beautiful day. We were so happy to be back in Colorado! Wow, is the scenery amazing here, or what?

Starting out from the parking lot:

Lots of snow still around:

The final climb to the top:

It was pretty windy up there:

It was an excellent climb to get us started.

Love this photo:

Thank you Ryan and Kelly for a great day!

Link to full race report

2011-07-21T15:39:00.000-07:00

Kip helped me compile all the Hardrock blog posts into one report for my webpage, posted here (minus the Post Amble videos, for now):

http://www.kipley.com/marcy/hardrock/index.html

Thanks Kip!

Hardrock - Post Amble

2011-07-20T18:46:00.000-07:00

We all caught a couple hours of sleep and then the house was roused to head for the awards ceremony. I wouldn't have missed this one for the world! I personally think Hardrock has the best race awards breakfast, especially due to Dale's (the race director's) emceeing. Plus yummy food and a chance to talk with folks. I wish we could have hung out there all day, talking and eating.

Not sure how we were looking so bright and chipper, but Kathy and I (and Duckie #1) were ready to go:

It was great fun hearing stories from other folks and the ones that Dale told. For me, he even improved on my finish line comment, saying that I had exclaimed "It was one damn thing after another!" Yes, Dale, it certainly was!

Breakfast with friends and my Master of Mileage awards certificate:

I don't shoot nor upload many videos, hopefully these will come out OK (the first one doesn't have a sound track). Many thanks to Kathy and Bob for capturing these special moments!

Looking back, as I continue to wake up to the fact that I actually completed Hardrock, I am so pleased with how it all went. I knew going into it that if I could have trained at altitude I would have had a shot at finishing faster. So speed wasn't the goal. The goal was to finish, without major problems if possible, and to be consistent if I could. I accomplished everything I set out to do, and had an amazing experience in the process.

Back in my Preamble post, I listed the things I was most concerned about (altitude, feet, knees, climbing, throat, and "Other"). Each of those categories gave me some level of challenge during the race, a minor problem here and there, things to think about and figure out. Happily, none of them grew out of control and it really was one thing AFTER another and not multiple issues at any one time. I do consider myself very lucky, when many race veterans had major problems and not all of them finished.

Post-race aftermath included trying to catch some sleep here and there, driving many hours, talking John's ear off about the race when I should have been sleeping, eating awesome pizza at Amica's in Salida, picking up our truck in Leadville (a whole nother story that I'll get to eventually), waking Danny in the middle of the night in Denver (Hi Danny!), seeing our friends off, catching an afternoon flight to Albany via Vegas (not ideal, but at least I didn't have to get off the plane), finally getting home and in bed at 2 a.m., and then trying to be at all coherent for work the next day. What am I, nuts? The only one thing I would change is adding a day of recovery after such a big race before trying to travel, much less work!

Huge kudos for all the help, support, love, cheering, hugging, emails, and well-wishes from so many people! Y'all truly ROCK!

Hardrock - Chapman to the Finish!

2011-07-19T16:04:00.000-07:00

John accompanied me out of Chapman, and the rest of my friends drove over Ophir Pass back to Silverton to await our eventual arrival. They celebrated a Job Well Done at the brewery - way to go, y'all! We'll be there soon! (to Silverton, not so much the brewery at that point)

John jumped right into his pacing role by finding a dry way across the creek next to the aid station. It was a bit of a clamber around on a down tree, but I appreciated it, and my feet especially did. They felt great as long as they were dry, and most happy right after getting a new pair of socks. I wanted to baby them as long as possible - plenty of challenges ahead.

We walked up the jeep road and carefully noted a couple of intersections. John told me that an earlier runner had apparently gotten lost for a while on this approach, and we didn't want to repeat that mistake. The turn-off onto the singletrack trail was so well marked, either someone was in a complete stupor to have missed it or else the turn had been reinforced recently. I guessed the latter.

Mosquitoes buzzed me just a tiny bit in the aid station, but I didn't get the bug spray treatment because they usually go away once I start moving. For the first time that didn't happen - they kept on biting me all through the woods. Nasty buggers! If it's not one thing, it's another! Seriously, everyone went through a lot in this race. Not everyone had the same experiences, but I guarantee everyone had some tough ones.

I couldn't help telling John a few race stories, some of the things I'd been wanting to share with him for many hours. Eventually my throat called a stop to the chattering, so I had to shut up and focus on the trail. That was good timing, because it was starting to get steep and rocky. John led the way, working to adjust his pace so I could keep up. Sometimes I'd have to let him go and then once he noticed he would wait for me. Mostly he walked methodically and I was able to follow his footfalls up the rocks. I think I was moving faster (at least faster than I would have alone), not having to think about where to go, feeling right at home with this expedition race strategy of putting my feet where John's feet had just been.

John seemed to enjoy experiencing the course in the opposite direction from the way he has always run it, especially at my slower pace. We chatted about the lightning question in this area, and I told him that if it wasn't storming right overhead, we were going over the pass. It's a much quicker up and down than some of the basins in other parts of the course, with shelter not far down on either side. For now there was rain in the distance and some clouds with us, but no sound of thunder.

Too bad John forgot to carry the camera with him - we would have loved a couple photos in here. Sorry!

I drank a Spiz in the shelter of some rocks, then it was time for the final approach to the scree field that is Grant-Swamp Pass. This thing is notorious for being a challenge and for filling shoes with dirt. We worked our way to the scree field and paused to catch our collective breath for a minute.

Then John led the way, following switchback paths that other folks had kindly beat into the side of the mountain. It was dang steep, plenty sandy and rocky, but John figured out the best way to go. We both noticed that the recent rains made it a bit "easier" by packing some of the dirt together so it wasn't quite as loose. For once, the weather worked in our favor, please make sure to note that I mentioned it here in a positive light.

In lieu of race pictures, I'll include some shots from 2010 trail marking in this section. Imagine these with more clouds, tired legs, different clothing, and eventually complete darkness and surely you'll get the idea.

Here I was climbing without Mr Mountain Goat leading the way last year:

Trail marking folks in 2010:

Step, step, slight slide, step, step... John set a good pace and I somehow managed to keep up. I was so happy not having to figure out a route up this, just follow John, awesome. And my climbing legs hadn't left me! And this was the 2nd-to-last big climb! That was pretty exciting to contemplate.

Looking back at Oscar's mining road that Ann and I had come down earlier in the day:

We topped out and I was elated that it had gone so well. This was another key location that John had taken me to when I was trying to decide if I could complete this race. Going up it, following my sherpa man, was certainly easier for me than making my way down it. Other folks may have a different opinion about this one!

We looked down to see a runner and pacer wearing similar clothing to the Ryan/Shauna impersonators we had seen over in the previous section. Not knowing any better at this point, still thinking it was Ryan and now Kelly with him, John yelled down, "Go Ryan!". They looked up but didn't acknowledge the encouragement. At least now it makes sense why. Ryan was still doing great, but that was not him just below us.

Turning around to face our downhill, I noted that Island Lake had WAY more ice and snow on it this year compared to the year before when it looked like this:

This top section had a minor reroute, straight down some loose sandy scree. Again it was better packed from the wetness, but I was still slow going down. Soon enough we got to the trail, did some now-standard snow walking, and made our way down the valley. I remarked to John that it was sometimes strange knowing where the flags have previously been placed, and seeing them not quite in the same location. I guess we have reached a new phase in our experience with this race.

I enjoyed the rest of this downhill, and we passed a runner or maybe two, I just don't remember for some reason. Normally I have a better race memory, but now that I had started seeing some people as completely different people, it's safe to say that my brain was short-circuiting in some ways. I told Ann that Jim was Robert when we first saw him, and I thought I saw Steve in Telluride (he says he never was there). A new brand of hallucination for me!

I told John that I wanted to get to the next creek crossing in daylight, and he assured me that we most definitely would. Good, because this one can be a little intimidating. Joe had promised us that he again built some kind of a bridge, so I was looking forward to finding a decent way across without getting my feet wet.

We made it down to the trail and ran down to the turn-off toward the creek. It was so well marked, I wondered to John if any tourists had seen it and asked "What's down there?" That would have been quite a surprise for them. If they even made it down the trail - it sure was steep and slippery with mud! The rain had not done this particular track any favors.

Here's the mess of debris across the creek last year, similar to 2011:

John followed a course marker to the right and found a good way to walk on logs, going from island to island and making it across with ease. I following, not with as much ease but still with dry feet and plenty of hope. Yep, I made it! Many thanks to Joe and John for that one!

John looked back and told me I was doing so well, making me smile. We scrambled up the opposite bank and make our way through some muck and mud along a section in the woods before reaching the Kamm Traverse, or KT trail, high above the next valley. Here is Jim in this section during trail marking in 2010:

We moved right along, John checking out the creek way below to get a sense (I don't know how from here) of how deep it was. There was a runner ahead of us, but my legs could move only just so fast at that point. It seemed like a rather long traverse this time, I guess because it was mostly a speed-walk for me. John asked if I wanted to run the parts that were kinda downhill? Not really - and it didn't so much feel like downhill to me.

Coming into the next aid station, John asked what I wanted. I already had an answer ready - I wanted COFFEE. Finally some caffeine for me! Or maybe just being around John makes me think of coffee :) Another reason I was happy to have John along - he could talk with the aid station folks and I could just smile and "look pretty" (ha!) instead of stressing my throat trying to talk loudly enough so anyone could hear me. Which is a challenge under normal circumstances, much less right now.

We jogged into the aid station and John ran over to put in an order - 2 coffees? Why yes, we'll take two of them!

KT aid station = 38:19 total time, approx 69th place

In the aid station John helped me fill a Spiz baggie while talking with the excellent volunteers and a couple runners that we know. We met Bruce whom we have chatted with before, and Larry and Beth were prepping to leave. John stashed my sunglasses and hat in my pack, gave me my headlamp, and we put on some clothes to start getting ready for nightfall. Time to go check out the next creek crossing.

We headed up the road into the wind, dang that was chilly. If it wasn't one thing it was another. And here's what's next... we went down a trail to the creek to see it up close finally. It didn't look too bad, but deep enough that I was SO glad to have John with me. He led the way and I stayed on his hip. He found that it was slightly less deep just downstream from the trail, and we worked our way across without incident. We came out with really cold and wet feet, but that was the norm by now.

John stayed to watch the next couple cross - our friends Larry and Beth - and to let them know it was a bit easier downstream of the trail. He would have no trouble catching back up to me, that was certain. In the meantime, I started up the "trail" - can you really call it that? It was a way through the willows via the shoe-suckingest mud I've ever seen outside of adventure racing. I don't know how the course markers weren't as deep as their danglies in that stuff. A swamp, yes, that's the word I'm searching for.

I somehow kept my shoes on and my feet under my butt, mostly because I was heading uphill at a low rate of speed. It would be great fun to stage a downhill sprint through that mess. And then sit to the side and watch. I had the thought that I could clean off my shoes in some of the water flowing down the middle of "trail" but realized that was the ultimate in pointlessness at that moment.

I clambered up some rocks, pulled my poles out of the mud (my arms were getting a good workout), and eventually made it to the woods where John caught up with me. Ah, solid ground! No wind! Now I was back to walking up a steep hill, one of the lesser challenges.

OK, it wasn't a cakewalk. That hill went up and up quite a ways, weaving back and forth in the woods. I felt slow but John kept telling me I was doing good. Only one more mountain to climb, and this was it! Well, this was stage 1 of the last mountain. I mentally broke it up into pieces, since it's a noncontinuous climb, and "straight up through the trees" was the first part.

It was dark by the time we topped out and found the slight downhill near the rockfall. Stage 2 is "up and down through the woods". This seemed to last a really long time. John even thought he could see the big open field through the trees, but then we'd cross a tiny creek, find some more mud to slog through, and then the trail continued through the woods. This happened several times. I remembered Joe talking about how this section was WAY longer in this direction, and I could now believe exactly that.

We stopped to put on rain gear when it started sprinkling, finding refuge under a huge pine tree. John had packed in anticipation of my slow pace (good!), bringing a rain jacket, rain pants, and a big yellow poncho. I'm not sure how many layers he had going under all that. I needed my hubby warm and happy so he could continue to lead the way and be his normal chipper self. Although ya could have shared some of that outerwear with ANN for the previous section...

Somewhere in here, we lost my white running cap out of my pack. I picture it living under this big pine tree now, getting even more dirty that it already was. It was a great hat, keeping my head cool and protected for many miles. At least this is one of the easier things to replace that we've misplaced in our lives.

Rain began in earnest (giving motivation to the weather - yet another sign that my brain was a bit whack). We did finally come out at the big field, where we crossed another creek. Yay for this one being easy. Time to start stage 3 - up to the saddle past the big rock. This rock is a prominent feature in the course briefing, usually eliciting nervous laughter that yes, you need to be looking for a particular rock in order to figure out where to go.

The climb up to the rock went quickly. The rest of the climb took forever. In the darkness I concentrated on keeping up with John, attempting to avoid the worst of the mud, getting up the side of the hill, and trying not to guess how much further it was to the top. John would call out "Mud!" so I would know when he had just sunk up to his ankles. Sometimes I could go around that spot, other times I just had to lightfoot it as much as possible and find a way to plow through.

Eventually the sound of the rushing creek faded away, which I took as a good sign. And eventually we made it to the snow field at the saddle, phew, that was longer than I expected. We paused for a moment to see if we could make out anything in the large open terrain ahead of us, and we caught glimpses of a headlamp here and there. I think it was still raining, and there were certainly clouds overhead, so we couldn't see much in terms of topography.

Here is this area looking at it in daylight from the other side, showing the approximate route we were about to follow:

Not that we could see much of this in the darkness. But it was nice to be able to mentally visualize it and have some idea where the course flags were taking us.

John worked from one course marker to the next and I followed, moving at a good clip now that the steep part was (temporarily) over. No thunder or lightning, barely any rain that I can remember, just one big light WAY ahead of it occasionally flashing our way. Wonder what that is. We ran over some snow fields but in general I think the footing was pretty decent up here. I expected this part (stage 4 of the last big climb) to take a while because I remember that it looks like a long ways when you can see the scenery. But it actually passed quickly, a nice change.

OK, time for the last part of the last big climb! John started up and I got back into "steady uphill hike" mode. Oops, there's the top of the rise waaay too quickly, I guess that wasn't quite it yet. Downhill for a spell, and THEN it was time for the real big, steep, side-of-the-mountain haul. Yep, (pant, pant), this is definitely it. Let's do this thing.

Check out how small the people look compared to the size of the hill in this picture:

Climb for a while, quick rest, look behind us, what a nice night it turned out to be! Headlamps way below us now. I started thinking about staying ahead of the folks I had already passed, and maybe I could pass one or two more? Up to this point it had pretty much been only (and I really mean this) about what I could do, how I was going to find a way to kiss the Hardrock rock.

It's always a good sign that I'm having a good race finish when I'm thinking about how to pass more people. John's pacing sure did help with that, keeping me moving faster than I might be going otherwise, but not too fast that I was overdoing it. For a race this long, pacers totally rock. I told John he was so awesome at it, he could hire himself out (send me an email if you're interested). But I want first dibs :)

Climb a while, quick breather, climb some more. Almost...there... I could see lights above us but not so far away anymore. Then... there was the top. Hallelujah!

There were a couple runners plus a guy named Mark who we knew as one of the radio guys at the Putnam aid station down in the next valley. He had hiked up (and I think he was the one shining the bright light), looking for runners and possibly also helping out with an earlier fog situation that John and I were lucky to miss. John chatted with him briefly and then we were off down the other side.

No trail here, just follow markings down the grass. Another runner or two was working their way down, and John eventually took the lead in finding the trail markings. We were aiming for a saddle, then a left swing around toward the basin. That all happened without incident, but then the next trail marker was elusive. Two bright lights couldn't come up with anything reflective.

John aimed toward the basin, while I had the feeling we needed to go more to the left, just based on being here for trail marking one time (and in the opposite direction, at that). We both kind did the "Monk" thing - if I were a trail marker, where would I be? Finally John spotted one, and amazingly it was directly in front of the path I was taking. We both had the thought to look for a flag lying on the ground, but I didn't see one right around my feet so we had to let that idea drop.

Here's the Putnam Basin in the daylight with John (in red) wearing fewer clothes:

Hopefully we helped at least one person behind us figure out the way more quickly. Moving on, we crossed a snow field or two, a small creek or two, a mud spot or two, eventually finding the trail that circles the basin. I expected this trail to go on for a while, but we must have been moving OK because before I knew it we could see the lights for the Putnam aid station. Last one! Sweet!

Putnam aid station = 42:05 total time, approx 63rd place

In honor of our "Coke travails" from 2009, I asked for a cup of Coke. The wonderful volunteers got me a drink, and we checked out their simple but seemingly effective tent setup, complete with fun little light decorations around the entrance. We refilled a Spiz baggie, but I didn't stay long - I was ready to get closer to the finish!

John stayed back to chat with the aid station folks and to see if they wanted a duckie donation? They apparently did - something about replacing a Justin Bieber picture? I'll have to have confirmation before believing I didn't hallucinate that part.

Right out of the aid station the trail dipped sharply downward, yikes. The rain had not been kind at all to this trail - it was super slick and muddy. I passed a runner/pacer pair and John easily caught back up to me. The fun continued a bit lower down, with the first rockslide crossing. I had heard that these last few miles of trail aren't easy after running 90+ miles, and now it was time to find out just how bad it really was.

Yep, it's a pain in the booty. Rocks, rocks, rocks, ah nice trail, more rocks. Willows over the rocks so you couldn't see where you were stepping. Somehow, with all of this going on, we caught up to a couple more runners. They were kind enough to let us go by, which I tried to do gracefully over the rocks (hmm, right, "gracefully").

Their headlamps stayed with us, and I realized it was time to drink some Spiz. I pushed to get a ways ahead of the folks we had just passed, because it seemed rude to stop right in front of them on the narrow trail. John watched and let me know when I had time, then I made a quick stop to gulp down the contents of the baggie. Last one!

We continued on, losing the guys behind us, finding more and more rock fields to cross, and eventually some nicer trail through aspens. Aspens! That's always a good sign that you're getting lower. John started talking about how I was going to finish, I was going to be a Hardrocker! I told him that I still had to get there - I still had to be careful, not twist an ankle on a rock, stupid things can still happen. Just gotta get there.

I started contemplating the upcoming creek crossing, the granddaddy of them all. I wasn't sure if I was breathing harder because of my running pace or because of my growing anxiety about the creek.

A car went by up ahead. Hey, a car! Must be the road. We were almost to the bottom (and the Creek Crossing). I heard John on the phone, finally in cell phone range to let our crew know that we were about to cross the creek, in case they wanted to come watch. But next thing we knew we were in the field and we could hear the rushing water.

We heard someone shouting "THAT'S what I'm talking about!" - it sounded like some drunk guy was hanging out over by the road? He yelled it again, as we made our way closer. "THAT'S what I'm talking about!" It was a bit puzzling, but we were focused on what we needed to do.

John folded and stashed my poles in my pack, we decided he would go first and I would go right beside him, and by then we knew we could not wait for our friends to arrive. The water below us was absolutely flying by, and we couldn't sit there thinking about it. We just had to cross. The loud fellow on the other side turned out to be one of several folks making sure everyone made it safely across, keeping a close eye on the runners and pacers. I had wondered if this was something racers generally did in the dark all alone, and I was really glad to see someone across the way watching.

John stepped down into the water to grab onto the rope and I followed and OH MY GOD this is crazy! It was so frickin' cold, with strong current trying to push us downstream. I hung onto the rope for dear life, facing upstream, and stepped to the right as quickly as I could. I could hear John saying that it was getting deeper here, great just great, and the current was stronger here, yikes, yikes. Just hang on, just keep moving. My feet were numb, my legs were frozen, the water was about up to my waist at this point, and I gripped the rope with all my might.

OK John, you can move faster - no wait, wait for me! - no, faster is good - no hold on I'm not there yet... I wondered if my legs would totally cramp up because they were threatening to, and what would I do then, YOU BETTER STAY WITH ME, LEGS! The center was slightly less deep, and then there was another deeper/swifter section toward the end. And then John was jumping out and hands reached for me to help me up. I climbed out, basically hyperventilating with my heart rate sky high, unable to really believe I just did that. What am I, nuts?

Thank you, thank you, thank you John for going through that with me! That's love, right there folks. The man has zero body fat and not a lot of tolerance for cold, and he did that for me without a peep of complaint. I'm not sure "pacer for hire" would take the job if he knew he had to go through that again.

We crossed the road, noticed some wet footprints (who else can I chase down?), and heard "THAT'S what I'm talking about!" behind us (oops, let's focus on staying ahead of that person first). We climbed a small hill, me still gasping with wide eyes, waiting for my heart to slow down below 3 beats per second. I can't keel over now! I have to get to the finish line first, then I can keel over. I haven't gone through all of this (insert whatever you want to call it) and not get to the end now, are you kidding?

Oh, and just for grits and shins, here's me at this creek last year, demonstrating just how crazy difficult it is:

About the only thing the same this year is the rope.

Breathe, Marcy, come on, you can do it. Phew, I wasn't looking forward to writing about that (and then proof-reading it, for god's sake), glad that's over!

We followed the trail through the woods and then over the rocky section you can see from the road. John called our crew back to tell them we'd see them at the finish (and sorry to wake you up early) (and here's an overestimation of how fast we'll be there, while we're at it). We didn't see headlamps ahead nor behind us, but I was speedwalking and trying to run when I could, just in case. Plus then we'd get there faster.

We finally found the dirt road and followed it up to the statue way above town, then turned down a path to run down to the quiet Silverton streets. It was all so peaceful, so serene, and I was finally calming down. No more stress over the creek crossings. No more worrying over heights and lightning and 100 other possible other things that could affect me. No more wondering if I was going to make or how close I was going to get to fulfilling this dream that I have had for years. Wow.

We smiled as we rounded the corner and saw the gym, normally lit up and welcoming for the race, now being renovated for the summer. Another corner, and there's where John finished two stellar races of his own. We headed across the main street, and I thought I saw Kathy standing there to cheer me on as she had in every single crew-access aid station for two straight 100-mile races for me. John told me that I was actually seeing a motorcycle. At least it was a nice motorcycle. I think I need some sleep.

I told John I was still trying to figure out what to say to Dale at the finish. Dale, the race director, stays up the entire race and greets every single finisher. If that's not amazing enough, he keeps notes on everyone who kisses the Rock and then tells little stories about people at the awards ceremony. I had been working through some ideas during the race, letting them play out in my mind and adjusting them as the race unfolded. I finally came upon something simple, nothing profound or funny or surprising, but it was the truth.

The big white DIA tent at the rec center appeared, and then the finish line banner. I was too happy for words.

No words needed - my only task remaining was to go up the Rock and plant a big kiss on it. Most gladly!

My amazing husband!

My amazing friends!

Dale hung a medal around my neck, and I first told him "That was a struggle" and he leaned closer so he could hear me say "If it wasn't one thing, it was another!"

And for everything that it was, my friends were there for me, people were rooting for me, all the help and positive thoughts helped me along. Thank you all! I am one Lucky Duck!

Finish = 44:32, 61st place of 140 starters (80 official finishers and 2 finishers over 48 hours), 8th female of 15 starters (8 finishers)

Ryan came in during the last hour of official finishes, at 47:19. Well done, Ryan!

Now it's time for bed!

Hardrock - Telluride to Chapman

2011-07-18T18:27:00.001-07:00

For this post, I stole a few photos from fellow runner Ryan and his lovely pacer Shauna. In their honor, here is one of the awesomest photos of the whole race, IMHO:

This year the race had to be rerouted due to land permission issues. One option was up some scree-covered thing where I heard they were big rocks sliding down during course marking. Another option was up Bridal Veil Basin. I was SO rooting for Bridal Veil! And was very glad when that was the route announced. It was a couple miles longer than the original course, but a lot of it was on trail, no additional elevation gain, and a more gentle climb overall. So, yay for that.

Ann and me, ready to go!

Ann and I walked out of town along the bike path and got to talking, her telling crew stories and me trying to explain the Grouse-to-Ouray overnight ordeal. Eventually my throat started getting scratchy, I guess it wasn't used to all this talking! So I had to ease up on the chatting, which was too bad because I could have gone on and on about our expedition race experiences here. Probably for the best, then, from Ann's perspective!

I think Chris "pick a speed" Twiggs finally passed me for good in here - he started and finished ahead of me but had been behind for a while, now he was looking good again. It rained on us briefly but the afternoon shower didn't last long and we didn't mind getting cooled down before the sun came back out. Local tourists and walkers passed us. I enjoyed the brief touch with humanity before heading back into the wildness of the mountains. We were heading up a popular route toward Bridal Veil Falls (there was even a "bridge" across this "creek":

The water was simply CRASHING down the mountainside, I had never seen Bridal Veil Falls so huge. The other creek up the valley was too big for its creekbed, and it poured over every rock it could reach, way wider than normal. What a sight for an already-beautiful day.

It looks like the house is leaking:

At the switchback below Bridal Veil, we stopped to take in the thundering mist, wow. Here's Ryan at the same spot not long later:

It was great sharing this with Ann, thanks for coming along (and taking pictures)!

We hiked up the road and found the trail leading up along the creek. We briefly saw a guy named Jim from TX who actually remembered me from Primal Quest, that was neat. I wish we could have talked with him more, but my throat wasn't really up for it and he was taking a break with his son (his pacer) at the time so we continued on.

What a beautiful trail - an amazing creek to follow, plus tons of side creeks falling into it after they rushed down the hills from both sides in cascades of waterfalls. I was quite pleased they chose this for the reroute.

Ann was doing great, leading the way and occasionally having to slow down for my plodding pace. She got to experience a few water crossings, and eventually we found some snow fields for her to practice on too.

Ryan at one of the larger crossings:

As we came out into the upper basin, it started to rain again so we put on our jackets. I figured this might not last long, like the previous shower, but I was oh so wrong about that. Not only did the storm continue, but then it turned to hail. All of a sudden we were having trouble walking forward because hail was coming straight at us. OK, that's annoying. Ow, ow, ow.

We found a rock to crouch behind for a bit, but then I noticed that Ann was wearing only a thin Go-Lite jacket. I asked if she knew that it wasn't waterproof? She said that John had given it to her to bring - WHAT? My husband sent my pacer into the mountains with this flimsy thing, when I know he has a couple other better choices in outerwear? It's not like Ann couldn't handle carrying more weight, she was practically bounding up the mountain ahead of me and was certainly strong enough. I told her that John needed to be biffed for this.

We started getting chilled, and decided to try braving the storm. I looked behind us down the trail and saw a runner and pacer making their way along, and I could have sworn it was Ryan and Shauna. It looked like their clothing and their builds, and I thought that Ryan was doing super-awesome to have made up 45 minutes since Ouray.

Meanwhile, Ann and I were struggling forward. Then there was lightning and some rather-loud thunder that happened way too quickly for my liking. We were still in the basin, not too high yet, but I told Ann that we couldn't go any higher with that going on nearby. We hiked until we found another rock, again finding shelter from the wind/hail to wait it out.

We huddled for a while, wondering what we were thinking coming up here without more/better clothing. I should never leave my overmitts behind! Didn't I already know that they weigh nothing and are da bomb? I was glad my jacket at least was waterproof. Ann started shivering so we sat close together and commiserated. She commented that it would have been nice to have working fingers so one of us could capture this moment on film!

The lightning and thunder continued, but seemed to be moving to the east. The sky over Oscar's Pass brightened, and finally we couldn't wait any longer. We had to get moving! It was still blowing rain in our faces, but it was bearable. I monitored the lightning and decided it was safe (enough) to get going, at least in the direction of the pass. And hopefully the storm would clear by the time we got close to it.

We practically ran (well, Ann may not agree with that velocity assessment, but it got my heart rate up), moving as fast as we could to try to get warm again. I wished I had stopped to mix Spiz when I had thought of it, but that had been 10 minutes early. 10 minutes before my scheduled feeding, but also 10 minutes before this damn storm blew in. For now we just had to keep walking.

We were both breathing hard now, following course markings up steep grassy slopes (hey, where did the trail go?), looking ahead to see where we might be going. Finally we crested a hill and I got a good look at the terrain, and then I recognized everything - Wasatch Saddle, the pass to Oscar's road, the alpine lakes, the trail up to CP1 (2002). Now I could explain to Ann how far we had to go. And we could go back to concentrating on moving fast enough to get warm.

And warm up, we did. Except for our feet. They started cold and went to "frozen" with each snow field and mud puddle crossing making them worse. I wanted to knock snow off my shoes but it hurt to try. I kept apologizing to Ann for putting her through all this!

Shauna near the top of the basin:

Finally we reached a traverse on rocks and then a long snowfield over to the saddle itself. The skies were clearing up, looking positively sunny in the next valley, and we were feeling better except for those blasted ice cubes at the ends of our legs. It was rather steep along parts of the snow field, so I gave Ann one of my poles for balance and we made our way across carefully. I tried to tell her that the snow was soft enough that she wouldn't slide far if she fell, but she told me that she was only looking at the footsteps in front of her.

Right at the saddle there were several steep steps up the snow bank, with large rocks in them to help with the traction. Here is Ryan coming up this section:

At the top, Ann and I hugged for joy! What a crazy experience. We started down the rocky "road" on the other side. I wasn't much looking forward to this downhill, but at least we were in the sun and off the snow.

An awesome photo Shauna took of Ryan here (less-than-awesome is trying to get over those rocks with tired legs):

Thank you to Ryan and Shauna for providing some colorful photos of this section! We were a bit shell-shocked at this point and not really thinking about documenting the experience.

Ann and I found a rock to sit on (hmm, I wonder if we can locate one of those somewhere) so we could eat something finally. We were both quite hungry and ready for a little break. Once we got going again our feet eventually regained feeling, thank goodness.

Then there was a snow bank in front of us. It seemed normal, just a few more snow steps. But then it dropped straight down about 10-15 feet to the trail on the other side. What is this? No steps? No easy way down? The tracks in front of us looked like a butt slide. I looked up and down for an alternate solution, because I was NOT keen on sliding down to a rocky landing way up here on the top of a mountain.

Ann behind me said "I think this is the way, it has to be the way," which did a lot to convince me to try it. I started down the slide, trying to slow myself down, but there was no way to avoid the drop at the end. I landed on my feet and didn't feel like I was in danger of falling off the hillside, yay!

I turned around to help Ann, and when she finally got a good look at the situation she was like "Oh!" but she was game to try and she made it down fine too. One more obstacle overcome! The switchbacks took us around and back to the snowfield for one more crossing, still a challenge but nothing close to the excitement of the snow slide.

The rest of the way down, which took a while, involved many switchbacks, lots of rocks, occasional stopping to give our legs and knees a break, and amazement from Ann that anyone would try to build an actual road up here. Yep, it's an F'in mining road, no doubt about it. I wanted to regale Ann with our PQ story from here, but I told her to ask Jason about it instead. My throat issue had kindly taken a backseat to the storm problems, but I didn't want to push it.

Almost to the bottom, sweet! That's a steep one. Very glad we didn't have to go UP it this time. We were so happy to see Jason, and Ann told him she thought Ryan and Shauna were coming down somewhere behind us. My crew also thought they had spotted them through the binoculars:

But that turned out to be a different racer/pacer set, wearing similar clothing to Ryan and Shauna. We were all fooled! Ryan did make it down, obviously, about an hour later.

Ann and I made our way along roads, through woods, past some cars, where are we going? Finally we saw our crew, are we every glad to see you! Congrats, Ann, you made it through a tough section! (and - Hi Duckie!)

Chapman aid station = 34:25 total time, approx 73rd place

Everyone helped me reload the nighttime gear, liquids and Spiz, plus John finally got some drainage out of my right heel blister (much better). My toes were getting a bit sore but nothing that would slow me down too much - I just needed to be careful not to bang them against rocks too many times. It was nice to be sitting for a bit, and then it was time to go.

John was coming with me to the finish, oh happy day!

Hardroch - Ouray to Telluride

2011-07-17T12:50:00.000-07:00

[The title of this post isn't a typo, and I'll tell you why if you're patient :) which if you're still reading these, you must be already!]

So I was in Ouray, but I wasn't really there. I had an aura of "what the hell just happened?" about me, trying to digest the experiences of the previous section that were so different than last year in every way imaginable. No explanations were coming, so I had to try to move on to the next section. But my brain wasn't shifting gears very quickly at that point.

My crew and I had the basics down - drink the Gookinaid and Ensure, change the socks, put a blister block on my left heel where there was a hot spot, trade trash for more Spiz baggies and TP, ask if I wanted any other food. That last one stumped me. I didn't know how to really answer questions, process anything that wasn't in the normal pattern. I did know that I wanted my microspikes for the next section - I wasn't messing around with the Virginius snow fields, even though I knew it would be light out by the time I got there and possibly with soft-ish snow to work with instead of a dreaded ice slope. Beyond that, I wasn't being much help to the crew.

I know they were trying, we all were trying to figure out exactly what I needed to do, what I needed to take. Bob had my drop bag list out and we repeatedly went through it, but I (maybe we all) had the feeling we might be missing something. But it was 3 a.m. and we were ALL sleep deprived.

John seemed to think that I needed to get up and walk out of the aid station. For once I wasn't sure why. If he had offered a nap, I probably would have taken it (but I didn't think of it). The weirdest thought went through my head - do people ever drop out of Hardrock for having tired legs? Because that's the only thing that seemed to be slowing me down at that point, no major problems and hardly any minor ones either. OK then, I guess I should get up and go, that would be the thing to do. Because one thing I do know, I sure can walk up a road. Good thing, because there was a long one of those ahead of me.

It wasn't until several hours later that I finally realized what I should have written on my drop bag list - sunglasses (I'd given them to my crew at Grouse), more sunscreen, fewer lights...

As it was, I had everything I needed to start the next leg at least, including my iPod. John walked me out the aid station exit and asked if I was carrying it. Maybe I would find it useful during the next few miles up a long dirt road? Heck yeah, great idea! That was the best thing he could have said, a glimmer of hope that we might actually have some brain power in action this early in the a.m. :)

After John kicked me out of Ouray, I followed course markers carefully because this was the one section of the course I had never seen and I wasn't sure what to expect except a tunnel. Up a couple turns and onto the Ouray loop trail, then up these giant steps that at least had a hand rope to help pull myself up along. The tunnel was cool but rather anticlimactic. On the other hand, the footbridge way high over the river was awesome and I look forward to going back to actually see where I was sometime in daylight.

I found the dirt road and turned to start walking and walking. Not far up, a couple headlamps came toward me and I think it might have been a runner and a pacer turning around to go back to Ouray? It seemed like they were both women, but they were talking among themselves so I didn't ask questions. I'm pretty sure I didn't dream that. Looking at the results I think it might have been Betsy K.

I started with my podcasts and blew through 3 of them just like that. Dawn came and went. I drank Spiz. I stopped for a bathroom break. I looked at various spots along the side of the road wondering if I was tired enough that they would be comfortable, but the idea of taking off my pack to make a pillow and moving all those rocks around to find a spot that fit my body didn't seem worth the effort. I saw almost no one, but finally a couple racers passed me while I was taking a bathroom break. Everyone was moving pretty slowly. The scenery was gorgeous again. My feet were dry. I sort of knew where I was but not how much further I had to go. There were even occasional mile markers, but I declined to calculate my pace per mile so as not to embarrass myself any further.

OK, time for some comfort music. I listened to the whole Buffy album and I was partway through Dr. Horrible when I finally, finally! made it to the Governor aid station. Phew!

Governor aid station = 24:57 total time, approx 76th place

I sat and had a bit of soda while filling a Spiz baggie, then rummaged through my med kit to see if I was carrying a needle. My right heel felt a bit sore from a nagging blister and I was hoping to poke it to see if I could relieve any pressure. No needle, and I wasn't quite ready to use a race number pin on it yet. Robert came walking up, commenting how it had taken him 3 whole hours to get up here. Hmm, that actually would have been a good split for me. I guess I better get my butt in gear here.

See ya, folks, thanks for being there! I continued up the road, amazed that we were crossing the creek on a bridge, although I knew my foot dryness was short-lived. Yep, further up there was a shallow but very-wide water crossing, and it only took a couple seconds in the snowmelt for my feet to start going numb. Too bad it took longer than a couple seconds to get across that one!

I started listening to Glee! soundtrack music, and that put some rockin' in my step. It was an absolutely beautiful morning! Snow fields, colorful rocks, blue sky, finally some awesome weather even though it was probably temporary. I should probably put my shades on... oops I guess I should have thought of that back in Ouray. Oh well, at least I have my hat brim.

I climbed up switchbacks, saw Robert following a ways back, started crossing snowfields. The snow was soft enough and there were plenty of runners ahead of me making tracks, so it wasn't too challenging, just steep here and there. Then a long path seemingly straight up the snow - and I wasn't even at the three primary pitches to the pass yet.

So I sat down to put on my micro-spikes, just to try them out. Heck, I was carrying them, I might as well be using them. I tested them in the snow steps - magic! Suddenly I could walk all over the snowfields without concern for foot placement. Less energy lost in little foot slides. I'm sold. The only reason not to put them on so soon was that the path continued to alternate between long patches of snow and long patches of dirt and rock, and I wasn't about to sit and take them off/put them on over and over, so I just walked over the dirt and rocks with them on.

I even walked on a bit of ice just to get a feel for my magic footwear, and that seemed to work pretty well too. Finally I got to the real straight-up section and followed tracks up the first steep, snow-covered pitch. My poles helped for balance, although I couldn't ever plant them too hard in snowfields because they tended to sink when I didn't expect it. I had a song going in my ears with the perfect rhythm for a methodical, not-to-fast, march up the mountain ("Gold Digger", of all things), so I played it again after it ended halfway up. Nice!

Another pitch, this one not quite as bad, although my feet were starting to freeze from all the snow exposure. I found a rock to sit on so I could take a breather and kick some snow off my shoes for a moment. I came over the top of the 2nd pitch to see the Krogers Canteen aid station folks perched high above. You folks are crazy to hang out there all night and day! It was quite a sight. I was so very glad to be there to see it. What a fun morning!

I couldn't believe my luck when the song "Keep Holding On" came on - "When it gets cold, and feels like the end, there's no place to go, you know I won't give in" - I just about started crying and laughing at the same time. Then the guys up top were giving me directions about climbing the route next to the rope and stashing my poles in my pack, so I turned off the music to concentrate on the important stuff. But the tune stayed in my mind, what a glorious morning.

I took hold of the rope and pulled - and pulled - until it eventually went taut. That was one dynamic rope (compared to the static ones we use for rappelling and ascending). I tried a wrist-wrap technique that I'd played with the year before in the Utah canyons, and that seemed to be good here too. My magic feet made step after step up toward the notch. How high is this thing, anyway? Almost there? No. But I'll get there eventually. For now, I was back to my "this is surreal" phase, which certainly beats out "this is hard" and "this sucks" and "I need a nap".

Near the top I asked if Roch Horton was there. They pointed me up to the man perched on an even higher rock up above. I pointed at him and yelled, "THANK YOU!" I told him I had been trying to get there for a long time so I could specifically thank him, and that I held him responsible for my getting into the race. Roch was automatically qualified to run, having finished this race 10 (!!) times, but this year he decided to let someone else experience it while he managed one of the aid stations - the most difficult one, at that! If not for his selflessness, I may not have been there. I told him that now I had to finish this race, in honor of him and all the other first time runners. He told me that I would finish, and he sounded so matter-of-fact. What a class act.

At the top they found me a seat, amazingly it was sheltered from the wind and there was room for all these people at once. They handed me some chicken noodle soup and I even tried a pierogi which I didn't even know what that was before. One guy sat with me and we chatted about micro-spikes - I told him that I had hauled these things all the way up the road, I was for damned sure going to use them. Have I mentioned how much they rock? I was glad I didn't have to test them in actual icy conditions on that morning, but I look forward to doing more experimentation. The guy also told me to keep them on through the next basin, then I could take them off for the trip down the other side.

They asked how my night had gone, and I told them that it sucked but I was doing much better now. I didn't realize until later that perhaps THEY had had their own challenges up there. I wonder what they go through during lightning storms? Crazy, I tell you. I did mention that I had 4 climbs that day, one down!, and at least this one was in perfect weather. No promises for later.

Oh yeah... Virginius/Kroger's aid station = 26:57 total time, approx 76th place

Time to go - down a bit of scree (it was probably my imagination, but it seemed like the micro-spikes helped on that too), then around the basin going across a few snowfields. I'm not fond of the section near the end that gets a bit exposed, but I focused on my footing and all was fine. Around the corner, where I sat to remove my new-favorite footwear and watch a couple runners below me. There was a bit of steep-ish downhill and then some cross-country travel with course markers who-knows-where (or why) but I aimed for the dirt road that I knew was part of the course, and soon I was heading downhill toward town.

Back to the music, I hummed and sang and ran my way down the long drop. My knees were still doing OK, just a little sore here and there, so I continued to take it easy down the steep stuff for sure. When the song "No Air" came on, I totally had to laugh. I had almost taken it off my playlist for the race, because really, who wants to be at high altitude listening to a song about it being hard to breathe? Happily, I was heading downhill and breathing just fine, another song with perfect timing! "I walked, I ran, I jumped, I flew...!"

Eventually I could see town - almost there! I smiled at a couple tourists, found a dirt road and then the last little trail down to someone's driveway. I even got to say "Hi" to the owner of said driveway, so that was neat.

Then I was on the steep streets of Telluride - hello civilization! I looked all the way to the other end of the street way down by the creek, thought I could see my friends, and raised my poles. Woo hoo! was the answer! Woo hoo, indeed! Good morning everyone!

My crew had been exploring the area, so I figured I'd include a couple photos of their experiences.

The park near the end of town where the mountains close in:

Hey, if I'd seen this I would have been glad I wasn't on a bike for this race!

Gondola through the aspens:

Welcome to the aid station :)

Telluride aid station = 28:30 total time, approx 76th place

I handed over my pack and told my crew that we were going to dump it all out and start over. We took out all the overnight gear (except the rain jacket that I wasn't parting with) and made a note that I had to get it all back at Governor, they filled the bottles and reloaded me with Spiz baggies, then Kathy sprayed me down with sunscreen. I had already taken off my socks and shoes to let my feet dry, any chance I get at this point.

I mentioned the blister again, because it was actually beginning to slow me down somewhat on the downhills. John didn't have a needle either, but he was game to unpin a corner of my race number. But upon poking the blister with the pin, he didn't get any liquid out, so that was that for the moment.

John attempting to reinstall the pack on my torso, at least I hope that's what this looks like:

Rockin' duckies everywhere!

Bob turning blue after inflating the biggest DUCKIE of them all:

My friends took turns signing it, so sweet and wonderful:

My "pit stop" crew in action:

I think they took a picture every time I went to take a drink - hey it's good to stay hydrated :)

It was a longer stop on purpose, surprisingly less than 20 minutes though. Then it was time to go. Ann was coming with me! Awesome for company! The iPod was officially off the clock.

Hardrock - Grouse to Ouray

2011-07-17T11:07:00.000-07:00

When I got into Grouse AS, I asked if we could work from inside the tent to stay dry, but when we headed up there it was obviously packed full of runners and folks helping them. I don't even know now if my crew could have joined me, as last year I was allowed in the tent because I was a pacer. So we went back to our chairs where they lifted the tarp off the stuff, and the rain had pretty much stopped and I had a nice dry place to sit. What a great crew! We got so lucky it never rained on us when I was actually with them, and they did a wonderful job handling the weather while waiting for me. Although I am curious what kind of "hold the tarp over Marcy" setup they might have come up with if pressed!

My husband and friends helped me get more clothes on, including tights and a sock change. Ann brought over hot broth and hot chocolate (both were great, I think hot chocolate won out in the showdown). I got my main lights and standard Spiz refill. I think there were more duckies around, but I couldn't tell for sure in the dark.

Seems like I had an idea of what was to come:

John asked (I could tell slightly tentatively) whether I wanted him to accompany me to Ouray, and when I told him I'd be fine without him, he was like "oh thank goodness". Apparently he was dressed for it, underneath a bazzilion other layers - Kathy joked it would have been the slowest Superman change ever. We had already decided that he would be with me on the final section where I was most concerned about the creek crossings. Anything else was just gravy, so no need to risk his later pacing with a little company tonight.

Ready to go, see y'all in a few hours! John walked me up the road for a bit and I assured him that I knew this section and wasn't worried about being by myself tonight. Then the lights and sounds of the aid station faded... slowly... as I continued walking up the road.

For perhaps 20 or 30 minutes it was a wonderful peaceful nighttime walk, and I thought that John would have really enjoyed it. Then it started raining. OK, so much for that. I put up my hood and continued up the dirt road. There were headlamps way ahead and eventually some started popping up behind me too, but mostly I just tried to see the outlines of the mountains around me to get an idea where we were aiming for.

That completely didn't work, especially since I'd forgotten just how far up the road we had to go before the switchbacks would begin. There was a loud rushing creek, forms of trees and hills, headlamps ahead that I couldn't decipher, etc. This road goes a lot faster when you're fresh and pacing Superman downhill. A couple came past me, with one silent person (I guess it was a guy) and a very chipper lady who was unmistakably a pacer. She said a nice hello as they zoomed past.

Quite a while later, past several intersections (with signs and good course markings) I finally did find the start of the switchbacks. That was the good news. The bad news was that it started hailing. And then there was fog - ?? I had to really focus to figure out where the road was going. It wasn't like I was about to walk off of it, but I felt like a robot that was blindly searching for the right way to go while occasionally coming face-to-face with a wall or a drop-off. Turn right or turn left? I had missed "fog" in my list of "Other things to be concerned about"...

So the hail got a bit worse, now coming from one side or the other depending on which direction the switchback was going. The good news was that the fog finally cleared so I didn't have to grope around for the road location any more. The bad news was that it kept getting colder and colder. Such that my standard jacket, buff, and overmitts were just at the limits of being enough, but any colder and I wouldn't be happy about it.

Finally I felt like I was on the final traverse across the top of the switchbacks and I could just about make out the turn in the road up ahead. The hail died down, that was the good news. The bad news was that the wind was now howling something fierce and I was really starting to get cold. I knew that the only solution was to get to the pass and drop down into the next basin and get out of the wind.

A dip in the road, a big rock - finally some landmarks that I knew! I walked the left edge of the road, determined not to miss the marking that would signify the start of the downhill. There's the parking area up ahead, woo hoo! And there was the marker, leading actually more left than I expected, but whatever it takes to get off this road, I'm in.

A couple headlamps came toward me on the road - the runner with chipper pacer lady had missed the turn, bummer. I started down into the basin and then let them by when they caught up to me. It was actually really nice having them just ahead of me, as all 3 of us worked to watch the marking flags and figure out the puzzle of how to get down this hill. They weren't running away from me, I was doing an OK downhill pace, and it was nice to have a little company for a bit.

The good news is that the wind stopped. The bad news is that the footing got really crappy and stayed that way for a while. In the dark it was hard to avoid the really muddy stuff, so we ended up sloshing around here and there. Occasional snowfields punctuated the mud and muck. Then a couple little creek crossings with dang chilly fast-running water. What a mess. The markings took us way around to the right, which seemed a little odd because I thought we had ascended from the middle of the basin last year, but it wasn't something I dwelt on. I had too many other concerns, most related to moving forward and staying on my now-wet and muddy feet.

Yeah, John would not have appreciated this so much. I told him later that there wasn't much he could have helped with, and there was no sense in 2 of us being miserable instead of just 1.

Eventually some lights appeared and there was Engineer aid station, a welcome break from all this work.

Engineer aid station = 18:10 total time, approx 81st place

I didn't stay too long, just enough to refill a Spiz baggie and I think I got some hot chocolate to drink. There was a nice fire, but the smoke was blowing every which way and I wasn't keen on breathing that for too long. There isn't enough oxygen as it is without smoke getting in the way. The folks there were really nice, except for the guy who was obliged to tell everyone that Bear Creek was running higher/faster than normal about a mile down. OK, he was still nice, but my feelings toward him were not kindly ones at that moment. The odd thing is that I don't even remember crossing Bear Creek last year.

I left the aid station, and when I paused for a bathroom break the same runner/pacer couple caught back up to me. She told me to yell if I had any issues with the creek crossing. I appreciated the thought, and worked to stay with them (they were back to moving well again) until we got to the creek. We found the widest/shallowest spot and climbed down the bank. They crossed together and I followed, and I appreciated again that she looked back to check on me.

Now we were on river left, and I knew this could only mean that we'd have to cross back, so I stayed with them until sure enough, there was a 2nd crossing. Same procedure, just being careful and watching out for each other. I thanked them for keeping an eye on me, and was glad to be done with that.

A little ways along, I really had to clear the pebbles out of my shoes, so I paused while they took off for good. Finally I felt like I could relax a bit, at least until the "trail over the cliff" section coming up later. I wasn't cold, well, my feet would warm up again soon, we were back in the trees, no rain or hail, no crazy mud. I think the moon might even have been out. Oh yeah, the moon was out because I saw it earlier during the hailstorm (and I'm pretty sure I'm not making that up).

So I'm puttering along, running some of the downhill, just minding my own business, when another creek appeared before me. Say what? This wasn't even Bear Creek proper, but a SIDE CREEK pouring down the hillside like a madman. I walked up to it, stared up at the gushing waterfalls to the right, and then turning to look left at the continuation of the waterfalls down to Bear Creek. What in the world is this? And what am I supposed to do with it?

Obviously the two ahead of me had crossed no problem, and I had to believe they didn't think it was crazy dangerous or they might have thought to wait for me (not that they had any responsibility toward me, but the thought might have crossed their minds). There was a flat-ish section where the trail crossed, and a course marking taunting me from the other side. I was mostly concerned about the consequences if I happened to slip and start down the drops - would I be able to hang onto those ice-covered logs? Would anyone know that I was in trouble?

I backed up to think about it, and took a few minutes to drink my next serving of Spiz and ponder. Finally I decided to wait for the next person to show up and we could cross together. So I paced back and forth, checking the creek (yep, still raging), looking back up the trail (no lights yet), back and forth until a light finally appeared.

I asked the very-nice man if he would mind us crossing together, even linking arms if that's OK? He was game, and we stepped into the water. It was a bit deep, but the current wasn't crazy or anything and we had no trouble. We both remarked at about the same time that it looked a lot worse that it was. I heard later that I wasn't the only one given pause by that creek crossing. On the other hand, I wondered at the time whether this older gentleman perhaps looked at me as someone who maybe shouldn't be out here on her own, if she can't cross some little creek.

Ah well, I'm probably making that up anyway. I let the man go on ahead until he stopped for something or other and I got to running some of the downhills. I should have asked his name, as I'd sure like to thank him again for his help.

The trail became more familiar, reaching the spot where folks normally do trail work to reinforce a steep bank. It looks like someone has done an awesome job of reinforcement this time, I was impressed with that section. The trail continued higher above the roaring creek, making its way along with some cuts into the cliff. This is the part where you have to be careful with your foot placements, I don't care how fast or nimble you are. It's a (mostly) wide trail but you don't want to test the edges of it.

This is also one of the first places John took me when I started wondering if I could run Hardrock. Here I was, back in the same place actually running Hardrock. Again, surreal. I had been here before, I had spent a whole day on the side of these cliffs doing trail work, I was plenty awake and moving fine, I could certainly get through this again.

That doesn't mean it wasn't still scary, though.

Another landmark, a little bridge over a side ravine. Hey, that one looks way better too, like they put in a whole new awesome bridge. So many things to report to John about. Focus, climb some rocks, around another corner, another trail work spot. Finally I found the new cut-over trail that we had build last year, and it was still there, yay! A couple less feet of elevation gain, mission accomplished.

Some headlamps appeared behind me and eventually a guy named Mike joined me as we rounded the corner and started down the "broken glass" shale (?)-covered switchbacks above Ouray. Mike remembered me from 2009, so we got to talking a bit. Crossing above the road tunnel (which I have to say is one of the coolest trail ideas), I made a brief pit stop and told Mike to go on ahead.

I saw a guy waiting at the road and mistook him for Doug with the radio on his vest - hi Doug! Oops, it was still Mike. That was the first of many mis-identifications I made the rest of the race. I guess I was getting tired. Yep, definitely getting tired. I didn't make up a Spiz because it seemed we were so close to Ouray.

Except that this trail goes on for frickin-ever (those might have been Mike's words, but I'd like to borrow them please). Steep downhill, back uphill, back downhill right next to where we went uphill (why??), more ups and downs than I can count, and I thought we were just looking at the town lights and now it's completely dark again. The only comfort I had was that the race used to cross this creek that was hauling butt right next to me. That would have really been a challenge.

So we were pretty tired by the time we finally did get to town. Mike checked every intersection looking for course markings, and then we saw folks waiting in the darkness up ahead. It was so good to see my peeps!!

Scott raced (I mean really ran!) on ahead to let everyone know we were coming, and I walked with John and told him he should be really glad he got to drive around that section!

I made it, hip hip Ouray!

Ouray aid station = 21:11 total time, approx 81st place still

Hardrock - Sherman to Grouse

2011-07-17T05:13:00.000-07:00

I'll try not to go on and on about the awesomeness of the Sherman aid station... It started when one guy was assigned just to me - he found me a seat in the shade and asked what I wanted. I started with a cup of water and a trip to the bathroom (the best bathroom on the course, thank you). Then we sat together so he could take my order. My drop bag was already laid out on the table, including my little note to myself tucked in front where I could see it. These folks are professionals.

He filled my bottles and brought the promised fruit smoothie (yes, yum!) and some banana and watermelon. I put my backup headlamp in my bag (because I was doing OK but not on supersonic pace), plus my waterproof jacket and a couple pieces of warmer clothing. John had convinced me not to carry my jacket from the start, but I wasn't giving it up from now on. I changed socks for the first time, ahh how nice. Dry feet were in the forecast for the near future and I looked forward to that.

The aid station guy (I should have asked his name) asked what else I needed, and I started trying to explain the Spiz baggie and decided just to ask him to bring a pitcher of water so he could fill the baggie while I held it. That worked, and I was pretty much ready to go. Transitions would be a bit longer from here on, but there were too many important things to prepare for so I just tried to be efficient about it.

I looked across the way and saw Steve and Mark hanging out, plus I got to chat with Rick T. who was walking around talking to and helping people, so that was cool. Steve told me I was on a 39-hour pace or something, to which I replied that was only leeway for later. Right before I left, another runner staggered in and was about to be seating at my table. He told the lady that he was feeling the effects of altitude and preferred a quiet corner in case he got sick - OK then, I'll be walking outta here. I did appreciate his manners even when he wasn't feeling well.

One other story, then I really need to get going. At the medical check-in on Wednesday, the guy asked my age. Um, ... 41? This isn't something I keep close track of, obviously. His assistant asked when I was born, and we determined that I'm actually 42, heh. Then they asked where I'm from, another tough question. New York? Texas? I made up my mind to really know these answers in case I got grilled by medical personnel on the course.

So when a woman stopped by my table at Sherman and asked how old I was (her excuse was that "you look much younger!") - I made sure to check the info on my wristband before answering. I then noted that my super-helper was wearing an "EMT" shirt too. I think I had enough mental proficiency to actually use the phrase "mental proficiency" with him, so he let me continue...

And now it really is time to get going. After 15 super-useful minutes, I started walking/jogging down the dirt road. One short/steep trail climb and I was up on the jeep road toward the Handies trailhead. As much as I appreciated the gentle grade, occasional shade, dry feet, and beautiful day, I wasn't excited about this section. 4WD vehicles kept passing us in both directions, mostly driven by considerate folks but they couldn't keep all the dust and noise away. I was glad for some wind that swept most of it away fairly quickly and made it bearable.

One lady stopped to ask if we were related to the big tent on the other side of the mountain and were we doing a race? I think so and yes - she wished me luck, that was nice. A crew car passed me heading back over (one of the biggest reasons I wish runners would ask their crew NOT to come over to Sherman), then I saw it stop next to the runner up ahead of me. Eventually the car moved on, and I caught up to the guy. He asked me if they had offered me a ride - what? No, and that's weird. They told him "no one will ever know" (well, except me who would have seen him get in). He speculated that he must look in worse shape than me. I should have replied (my typical week-late rejoinder) that he must look a lot more attractive than me, actually. So that was strange.

I walked/ran up the road and was pleasantly surprised to reach the trailhead fairly quickly. A woman tried to direct me to the trail, but I ran by her to the restrooms for a quick break, nice timing. Then over the bridge to the stash of water jugs so I could refill my bottles before the long climb up the mountain. Steve and Mark passed me approximately here.

Time for a long climb - this one starts steep, but at least we were back in the woods mostly. My legs were getting tired, which seemed a little early to me but what do I know really? A couple guys passed me moving well, and I even got to help one of them get his backpack zipped back up. When I could eventually see the top of Handies Peak there were blue skies and sunshine above it. I remarked to myself that it would have been really nice to be there right now - not so much to get the climb over, but because it was perfect weather for being up high. All I could do was what I could do to get there and hope for the best from the skies.

I passed Steve who seemed to be having some kind of stomach issue, but the only thing we talked about was "3000 feet" - how much more climb remained before getting to the top. That actually turned out to the really useful (and not demoralizing) info for me. I converted it to meters and calculated that I might be able to get to the top by 7:30 pm. That should work for getting to Grouse not too much after 9 pm.

I was now moving slower than I had originally estimated, but this was actually a somewhat calculated move to try to let my legs recover a bit. I started to worry that I would run out of climbing power, like at Jemez last year which had been my first race at altitude for the summer. Not being able to climb would be a huge challenge in finishing Hardrock, so I needed to give up a bit of time to try to keep that from happening.

Eventually I made it above treeline, amusing myself by watching runners way ahead making their way up the slopes. I noted a group going straight up a snowfield, and others going up rocks to the right. That should be interesting. The trail started crossing little creeks and muddy spots, nothing too bad. I ended up with one wet shoe, but at least I could use the same shoe to get wet each time.

I came to the creek crossing where I wanted to fill a bottle - John and I had scouted it out and used it last year. The alternate creek didn't look nearly as orange this year, I imagine due to all the rushing snowmelt. But I still liked this creek the best. So I paused, moved water around and filled a bottle, dropped in a Micro-pur tablet, and was getting my stuff back together when another runner walked up to chat. We ended up taking turns following each other up the next section, neither moving particularly fast but both of us working as methodically as we could.

He was also wearing headphones, so he didn't say much (not that I was talking either), but at times I would turn around and he would smile at me so I'd smile back. That was so refreshing - most people were so focused or in a daze that I didn't see any reaction. I liked this guy's smile. He turned out to be Doug from Hawaii, very nice to meet you.

Up near the snowfield I paused to check the course markings. A couple years ago John and I had looked for an alternative to the snowfield in case either of us ever came upon it frozen over in the middle of the night. He helped me find an alternate way down some rocks and a bit of scree. And this year the course was actually using the "Marcy Reroute" - so, cool! I followed markers straight up the dirt slope. OK, this reroute was more intended in the downhill direction in my mind - uphill is kind of rough going straight up.

Almost to the ridge, a group of hikers were coming down and they seemed a bit excited, hopping down the mountain while singing "Come Sail Away" - the sane guy in front kind of apologized and I told him they may have some altitude loopiness going on (I'm quite familiar with this myself). No matter, the "music" was fun and they were considerate in passing me on their descent.

The wind picked up and the clouds started looking a bit ominous. No time to rest. Except I did stop to put on my jacket, buff, and overmitts. By the way, these overmitt things ROCK! Our friend Jeff suggested them for winter running, and I just happened to see them while packing for Colorado. They weigh almost nothing (1 oz per pair), so I even threw them in my running pack. It turns out they are da bomb for keeping hands warm. I put them on over my bike gloves whenever my hands got a bit chilly, and they kept my hands completely toasty and dry even in rain and wind and hail. Big and easy to use, worked fine with my poles, and my only concern was not letting them blow away when I took them off. Jeff had emphasized how you're stuck not being able to do anything if your hands are too frozen to function, and I took it to heart and boy did it work! (eVENT rain mitts from Mountain Laurel Designs, hope you don't mind a little plug here and there for the gear that helped me the most)

So I was warm enough heading uphill in the wind, but ohmygosh is it ever steep getting up to the top. Doug was following me now, smiling at me whenever I paused for a breather and looked back to see how he was doing. I couldn't help thinking of the talking dog, rephrasing it to "His name is Dug, I have just met him, and I like him." Deep breathing, a few more steps, choose a trail among the options through the loose stuff, breathe, step, breathe step. I started adding a slight pause after each step, just enough to mostly keep moving even though it was really slow.

Finally, finally, we made it to the top of the last steep pitch! I turned around to watch Doug clamber up so we could high five, yay! Wow, Handies had sure kicked my butt. We hustled over to the actual top of Handies and I took Doug's picture with his camera. It had started to rain, not sure how well the photo came out, but at least we tried. Dark clouds loomed, but at least there was no lightning, and it was even not quite 7:30 pm yet.

We started down the other side, which normally is rather bare but made easier by the rain packing down some of the loose dirt. I was ready to get lower where there was more oxygen and some shelter from the wind. I looked over to American Basin - holy cannoli, look at all that snow! It was as white as I'd ever seen it (in my limited experience here).

I ran carefully down the switchbacks, so thankful not to have any lightning issues up here. Some folks not long later were not so lucky, yikes, but everyone made it without another Lightning Bob incident this year. Further down I found a rock to squat behind, and further still I found a place to stop and mix a Spiz. There was still some work to do before Grouse.

Doug and I started across the traverse, which this year entailed many snow patches, lots of mud, very little actual "trail" (such as it is anyway), and more than a few challenges. I think Doug had the first busted trekking pole in the race that I saw, bummer. We post-holed a couple times, gave up trying to keep our feet dry, and focused instead on just keeping our feet under us. I was glad to know this section and be aware that it can take a while in the best of conditions.

At least it didn't rain much, that I remember anyway, and it was still light out. We made it around to the last steep climb out of the basin, phew, and started down the long valley toward Grouse. Doug had a radio strapped to the front of his pack and he began trying to reach his support folks at the aid station. I suspected it would still be a while before we'd be in range right above them.

Darkness gained on us, but I was still moving fine without a headlamp. We picked up the pace when we saw lightning and heard some thunder. More running, more lightning. I wasn't worried much about it, more not looking forward to the rainstorm that appeared to be heading in our direction. Running, lightning, thunder. Finally we stopped to get out our headlamps right as the rain seemed to be just on top of us. Yep, there it goes!

We got quite a drenching, slipping and sliding down the trail and trying to see ahead of us with the rain obscuring some of the light and making sparkles in front of my eyes that I sometimes mistook for lightning. I prefer a handheld light, but I wasn't giving up either pole in order to do that. The poles were really what was keeping me from falling on my butt, several times in this section.

The thunder got louder and closer, as we got lower and lower (thank goodness for that), and the rain kept coming down. Finally I could see the aid station lights below us, then a few easy switchbacks to the bottom, yay! Jason was there - Marcy? It's Marcy! It was great to see everyone. My crew whisked me away and Doug went a different direction - it was great travelling with you for a while, see ya!

Some daytime shots from Grouse aid station:

The trail comes down the side of this hill:

Runner-watchers:

Still dry!

Happily, the rain started letting up by the time I arrived!

Grouse aid station = 15:20 total time, approx 84th place

Hardrock - Cunningham to Sherman

2011-07-16T14:50:00.000-07:00

From the Cunningham aid station, I started up the trail on the other side. At that moment I was pretty happy to be going around the course in the counter-clockwise direction... I didn't have to go UP what we had just come down, and I also don't enjoy going DOWN the stuff we were now heading up. I wasn't sure if I wouldn't appreciate the course direction as much later in the race, but for now I was enjoying it.

I heard a crowd of folks on the road below yell, "GO JOE!" and I thought to myself, huh, I guess Joe is up here somewhere. Then I heard "GO MARCY!" which made me laugh. Joe P. turned around right above me to say "hey I know you" - which made me laugh again. Joe has taught us so much about Hardrock and we owe him a lot in the grand scheme of the whole experience. It was great to get to see him actually on the course now.

He seemed to be climbing well and doing good. He's a real downhill specialist, so when he let me go ahead of him I figured I would see him again on the other side of the mountain. I passed a few more guys on the way up the hill, and I got to start liking that. I passed the spot where I had sat to watch John zoom up the opposite hillside in the race last year. That made me smile.

I had one brief moment where I questioned the course direction, but it seemed like we needed to go up the steep nose and sure enough there was a flag up above. More than once (many times, actually), I really appreciated having seen the course before. One less thing to worry about, one more little bit of confidence here and there. Huge thanks to Charlie for all the trail marking parties!

Into a bit of a valley, the trail finally leveled off for a short distance. That was a nice relief. I knew the worst was ahead - steep grunt climbs off-trail straight up the side of the hill. Repeat. And then once more up the biggest bear to the top. There was a bit of snow at the bottom, then just walking up the tundra and putting one foot in front of the other for a while. I even switchbacked it slightly (I think I just verbed a noun) to make it slightly less intense.

I got to say "Guten Morgan" to a racer I believed (hoped) was German - he was, so that went well. Climb, climb - finally at the top, phew. A couple of spectators told me that they hadn't seen many women in front of me. Well, there were only 15 of us and I had already passed 5 of them (actually 6, as I didn't know yet that I had also passed Deb somewhere but didn't see her). I told them that the problem was most of the rest were really fast so it didn't matter much. And in fact, I didn't see another woman racer from Cunningham to the end.

A bit of snow down to a dirt road crossing, then up the other side. I saw Marty waiting for someone, sitting on a rock. There was more snow along the next trail but nothing I wasn't used to after climbing 14ers recently. As long as the sun has been on the snow for a while, the main potential problem is post-holing, and we didn't have too much of that here.

Near the top I saw a guy we know named John who was out running around the course (not a racer) just checking it out, so that was cool. I managed a quick potty break in a sheltered spot before the next guy came around the corner, then a bit more climbing to the next ridge.

From there I could see a couple runners trying to figure out how to get down a huge overhanging snowfield in the distance. That seemed odd in a couple ways, so I paused to try to understand it. I noticed a course marker off to the right of where I was standing, so I moved over to check it out. From there it was obvious that I needed to drop down immediately and not continue on the ridge like those runners. It wasn't an easy turn to catch, so I was glad to hit it the first time.

The downhill into Maggie's aid station is a bit rough, although again I was glad not to be going in the other direction here. Plenty of mud, wet grass, snow, not really a trail, just follow the markers wherever they wander. I hung with a couple guys, not really pushing down the hill but not going gingerly about it either.

Then the trail markers led to an actual creek that we had to wade across - what? I totally don't remember that part. I need to ask John about that. So my feet were back to being wet, but what do I expect really?

Maggie aid station = 5:28 total time, approx 100th place

(It is rather astonishing to note that only 4 people who came into this aid station after me also finished the race, considering that I felt like I was no longer at the very back of the pack)

At the aid station they helped me fill a Spiz baggie with water and I grabbed a bit of watermelon, yum! I walked out with a couple other guys, one who I think was named Dennis. He had some interesting foot placements, very flexible and seemingly able to step on anything in just about any direction. It was a bit strange following him, because I certainly can't do that, and I'm used to walking in my teammates' footsteps that work more like mine.

A group of us crested the short climb to the Continental Divide. It was neat thinking about the Tour Divide bike race a couple of our friends were in the process of finishing (go Sheilas!) and how at least they would not have had to come over this pass on their bikes. More snow now, a lot more than in 2010, but I hear last year was drier than normal. A bit of sneaker-skiing, running, jumping over the edge of the snow field to try to keep from thunking down in the softest stuff.

I was just running along when hey there's Ryan! He showed up out of nowhere, and it was great to say Hi! He turned around with his camera and snapped my picture, too funny!

I would have been happy to chat for a bit, but he stepped aside and told me I was moving quicker than he thought he needed to at that point. In fact, I wondered if I was the one now moving too quickly, as I was feeling great and still passing people and having a grand ole' time. On one hand, this could blow up on me later for sure. On the other hand, John had always stressed that moving faster usually increases your odds out here. Weather-related crap can always happen, and the further you are on the course when it does, the better off you'll be.

While I was pondering all this, I got a bit ahead of Ryan. I saw some guys in the willows across the way, then noticed a flag going to the left at a small creek crossing. I yelled to them that they were on the wrong trail, so they cut over to me. Turns out their trail was in better shape than the one I was one, sorry 'bout that :) I turned around to motion to Ryan to watch for flagging at the creek, but he couldn't hear me over the water noise so hopefully I didn't confuse him too much. I was just causing more trouble trying to do good!

Mud, water, willows, mud, water, field, a bit of a dry stretch, then a real muddy spot that was even wet last year so at least I knew it was coming. There was thunder in the distance, then all of a sudden it started hailing. The good thing is that it was coming from our backs. The back of my legs and neck didn't appreciate this upside. Ouch, ouch. I checked my watch and decided I didn't need to try to stay dry this time - plenty of drying time available this afternoon.

The storm eventually blew over, thank goodness. Side-of-the-hill running, I was just running when I felt good and walking when I wanted. I had an idea when I might come into the next aid station based on the fast end of my estimated splits, and I pretty much hit that right on, so that was nice.

Pole Creek aid station = 6:38 total time, approx 93rd place

The aid station folks again were great, very helpful. They even had a whole beautiful spread of options across a card table, all organized and easy to choose from. I told them I was impressed - it's not easy for the remote aid stations to set up something that nice. Believe me, I've tried!

I got moving after about 3 minutes, heading down to another creek crossing. I could see runners on the trail ahead of me as I crossed the easy creek. A bit of a steep section, and then back and forth over and in another little creek. John and I had tried to divert a side creek from flowing over the trail during trail marking last year, but obviously those efforts were completely fruitless.

Coming out into a big valley, I recalled the wonderful calm morning I had had last year while pacing John. Good memories, putting me in a good mood. In fact, it hit me that being there was rather surreal - this is a feeling I had several times during the race. Having been on the course in various ways over the past 3 years, now being there actually DOING THE RACE, it was hard to understand sometimes.

Then another storm blew in, breaking my reverie and this time dropping rain in such a fashion that I decided to get covered up. Before it hit I stopped to drink Spiz, dump rocks from my shoes, and then again to get out my little poncho to ward off some of the rain.

A couple guys passed me, but eventually the pack got rather spread out across the valley. It was probably good there wasn't anyone near me, as my plastic poncho was blowing all around and making a tremendous racket in my ears. Or maybe that's why no one was near me. Or maybe it only sounded loud to me. These were the things I pondered.

I was also hoping not to have to deal with lightning over the next Divide crossing, but I figured it was still a ways ahead and by then the sun would be back. That's pretty much what happened. Top of the climb, yay! Sunshine again, yay!

I passed a group of folks and one of them mentioned that I was an adventure racer - I wonder if that was Robert but I didn't stick around to chat. I was feeling good again and having a fine time along the high meadows. I passed "Marmot Rock" but didn't see or hear any of the furry creatures. Down to the willow bog, a brief question about the trail crossing the creek, then I found markers again going around a rock pile.

It was nice getting into the woods for a while, and I wondered how warm the afternoon would get. I was also getting low on water, having misunderestimated just a bit at the previous aid station. I was too low on the mountain to be real excited about pulling water from the creek, and also uninspired to stop to treat it. I figured I could handle it for the downhill run.

So I probably would have felt a little better on this downhill if I had been better hydrated, but as it was it seemed to go on a bit longer than was comfortable. I guess it was going to stop being all fun and games sometime :)

A guy I believe is named Chris came bombing past me on the downhill, not sure how he got behind me for that matter. Switchbacks, nice trail, enjoyable afternoon, making plans for the next aid station because I need to pee and I need some water...

Finally there was the trail register - almost there! The Sherman aid station, I knew, absolutely rocks. They started with menu signs posted on trees so you can work up your order on the way in. Fruit smoothies - gotta try me one of those!

I crossed a beautiful bridge and there was the aid station, awesome.

Sherman aid station = 9:15 total time, approx 89th place

Hardrock - start to Cunningham

2011-07-16T12:51:00.000-07:00

Race morning!

I wish I could have slept a little better, but I stuck with my decaf morning coffee because I figured I would be awake soon enough, and I would really appreciate the caffeine jolt a whole lot more the following day. Standard race prep - dress, sunscreen and lube, banana, pre-race Spiz, make sure I have everything in my pack. Catch a ride a couple blocks to the start, isn't that funny? :)

Gotta check in by 5:45 am, check. No last-minute drama this year, from me or anyone else.

Kathy helped me set up a Twitter account for the race, thanks Kath! One last "tweet" before I head out and my crew takes over, captured on film for posterity. Also note the amazing miner-themed crew hat that Kathy and Bob found for John - wow, is all I can say, just wow, I about fell on the floor when they came home with it the day before:

Hanging out with Steve:

Greg is ready to go:

Me and Ryan, hoping for a great race for both of us:

Lined up and ready:

Wow, people are really running:

I started way in the back - no sense in getting overly excited about this just yet:

Can't resist including this gem:

I took it easy along the first trail, just getting my feet under me and taking the time to avoid mud and puddles and finding easy but not-to-wet ways across the little creeks. I was completely aware that my feet would soon be wet from the first creek crossing, but I wanted to give my feet as much of a break as I could early on.

I hung out with a few folks at the back, letting one guy go by so I could stop for a potty break. I was officially in last place, cool!

As I got warmed up and running a bit, I started passing a couple folks here and there. Nothing that took much energy - there was plenty of jeep road and steep uphill in the near future. I briefly saw Kathy, plus Kristina whom I'd met in the parade. I chatted a bit with Allan who had just got in the race from the wait list.

The first creek crossing was simple (calf deep?) but dang chilly. Wooo! Time to walk uphill and warm up the toes. I focused on my poles and posture and got to work. Along the way up the road I passed a couple people here and there, enjoying the chance to meet new folks and greet people I knew and smile and say good morning. My arm warmers were perfect, keeping me warm in the shade and then hanging out around my wrists if I got a bit hot.

Up on the singletrack trail I briefly started across a snow bank until I noticed the word "NO" written into it. That's a word that will get your attention (especially if you've ever trained dogs). I looked around and saw an arrow written in the snow pointing left. OK then. Other runners were a ways above me, but I had not seen how they got up there. I followed the arrow, found a trail, and eventually found a race marker. I looked below and saw that going forward would have taken me to a pretty lake - another time, I guess.

More uphill work, listening to my breathing and feeling OK with it. I tried to breathe deeply and stay relaxed, not let my heart rate get too high. This first climb was just a test for me, and so far everything seemed to be working. And here's the top! I chatted with a couple more ladies along the top of the ridge, Jennifer and a woman I don't know.

I was pleasantly surprised to see a clear trail along the sometimes-snow covered and sketchy traverse. I had heard from a racer named Jeff that it shouldn't be too bad, and it was so easy I started to wonder if all the trail condition reports (snow, snow melt, mud, wetness, high creeks) had been exaggerated. OK, I knew they had not been, but it was fun to hope for a short time.

Downhill time! And it's a steep one. I eased downward, using the poles, still going faster than a few people but not trying to. I was patient and most folks got out of the way when they saw me coming. It was a bit too technical for my tastes up top, but eventually it turned into a nice trail that I could run here and there when I wasn't climbing over random rocks.

What a beautiful morning - gorgeous Colorado splendor. Waterfalls, snow patches, blue sky, green hills. Right here, right now, there is no other place I'd rather be. It was about as close to "in the moment" as I have come, no problems, no worries, just being there on that hillside. So lovely.

Eventually I could see over the edge down to the aid station so I waved my poles in case anyone could see me. There was lots of cheering as most the field passed through the aid station ahead of me. Out of the sunshine into still-morning shadow, across one more switchback. I tripped slightly and caught my pole on my right leg, nothing that would have stayed with me except a) I felt silly stumbling in front of the biggest crowd of the race and b) it put a small mark on my leg. A battle scar! The last time I had one of those I had an excellent race (and at least this one wasn't bleeding). Things were looking up :)

My chair awaiting my arrival - with some new "rockin'" duckies - sweet!

People watching for runners:

Kathy or Bob took this beautiful shot - I love it. Our trail came down to the right of the waterfalls:

Not blazing fast but I'll get there:

Kathy was waiting for me at the creek crossing, and she mentioned that it was a bit deep and fast. Good to know - I got focused and worked my way across carefully. Another creek crossing down, so far nothing out of the ordinary.

My crew went to work like it was a pit stop in a car race! Before I knew it, both bottles were filled, I had a resupply of Spiz packed, I drank my Gookinaid and Ensure, and I was ready to go again. That was fast! Too fast for the duckies to hang on to their perches, they were flying everywhere:

John walked out with me and I told him I was feeling great. And Hi Jim! (the guy with the vest and clipboard):

It was a very nice start to a long race. Time to get back up high for a while.

Cunningham aid station = 2:57 total time, approx 122nd place (of 140 starters)

Hardrock 100 - preamble

2011-07-16T06:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, folks, this is a long one! So long that it needs its own preamble (pre-amble, hmm... I didn't do that on purpose, I swear). You may have heard that I finished one of the biggest races of my life, certainly the hardest solo race I've done, although it wasn't without lots of help. So it's only fitting that I have a ton to express in my race report. As with many races, this blog stems from a selfish effort, but if we're lucky a couple other people will get a little something out of it too.

I had heard of the Hardrock 100 mile ultrarunning race many years ago. It sounded extremely difficult, but maybe if I finished a bunch of other 100's first I would be able to determine if I should try it someday. It also sounded a bit crazy. 100 miles at 8,000 to 14,000 ft elevation, up and down steep trails (and off trails), 33,000+ feet of climb, in occasionally dangerous conditions. Yeah...right.

So I went and ran several 100's, learning a lot from each and especially from the one I didn't finish. I also gained valuable experience with gear, clothing, training, and endurance in 50-milers and 100k's, 24-hour rogaines and adventure races, plus a few expedition adventure races and two journeys on foot from Lake Geneva to the Mediterranean Sea (successfully the 2nd time).

In an expedition race in the San Juan Mountains in the early 2000's, our team was on the last section of the race with a walk down Bridal Veil Basin toward a rappel at the falls. We saw a runner coming toward us - running UPHILL - we learned he was training for Hardrock. That left us stunned and amazed (and in all fairness, our mental state was generally stunned and amazed at that point in the race, but since the impression remained after the race I have to believe it was real). It turns out that you don't HAVE to be quite so superhuman to finish Hardrock, i.e. running up the hills is not required. But it doesn't hurt.

Me = not superhuman. So instead I worked on being prepared. John gained entry into the race in 2008 and 2010, so I joined him for trail marking, trail work, crewing, and managing Putnam Aid Station in 2009. In 2010 I was so grateful to get to pace him from Ouray to Cunningham during his most amazing Hardrock performance; we both look back on that race and smile. In the past 3 years I had done basically everything except actually run the race myself.

February 2011. I got in. I got in?? I got in!!!

Time to get serious! I climbed the equivalent of the 33k+ elevation gain every 4-5 weeks, getting to know various Catskills trails and mountains. Also two 50-mile races and the Massanutten 100 (MMT100) - it was a lucky lottery year for me! - and a 24-hour orienteering event. I learned something with every race, made adjustments, planned, strategized.

My list of "things to watch" (concerns? worries? things to work on?):

Altitude - Obviously not something I could do anything about from New York state, although I did research altitude sleeping tents briefly. I used all my vacation to head to Colorado two weeks before the race and climb 14ers with John. I hoped my previous Colorado summers would speed up acclimation (seemed to!). I took iron pills and ate spinach, in case that might help. Otherwise I tried not to fret as spring passed at sea level.

Feet - Blister issues in the last miles of MMT100 caused some concern. Hardrock isn't as rocky overall, but I knew I would have wet feet for up to 48 hours - great input from John. I went after my feet with pumice and a conditioner concoction, I started doing all my long runs with wet feet, and I ended up with pretty much brand new skin and zero callouses. Still... you never know.

Knees - Downhill knee pain at the Bull Run Run resulted from bombing down everything right from the start. I stopped doing that (duh - except I love doing that). I also learned I had to get out of the stairwell - I was using the 4 flights at work for stair climbing repeats (36 times up and down for 2000 feet of climb) which worked great in the winter but didn't translate to downhill fitness. I restarted my knee strengthening exercises and taking glucosamine. I had learned a lot about knees in the Grande Traversee des Alpes, and I again put it all to bear.

Climbing - I'm not a strong climber by nature, but I've learned that my body will adapt if I focus on it. Lots of uphills, weekly hill repeats (multiple 100-foot climbs, anyone?), 8-10 hours on weekends doing long repeats in the Catskills. This isn't the Rockies, but still I had to be thankful I wasn't trying this in central Texas. Climbing 14ers for a week was a nice flourish at the end.

Throat? - This one showed up the week before the race and scared me a bit. The day before I left New York a coworker mentioned he might have strep. WHAT? What are you doing at work? I was so glad that didn't pass over to me, but my throat was scratchy off and on leading up to the race. I hoped like heck that it was just a side effect from the dry air (not one I normally have, but you never know).

Other - Lightning, hail, pouring rain, freezing cold, blazing sun, snow, ice, bears, mountain lions, moose, scree, cliffs, rocks, mud, Virginius, Bear Creek, Grant Swamp, sunburn, cracked lips, ankle injuries, stomach problems, getting lost, lack of sleep, and last but certainly not least the high water creek crossings... (sign here)

On my side: John, Kathy, Bob, Ann, Scott, Jason, Shauna, Kelly, Ryan (a fellow runner - go Ryan!); a huge number of runners we know along with their crew and pacers; folks like Jim and Sue who were helping run the race; countless friends and family watching online and rooting for me. With all that positive energy, I knew I had a fighting chance.

(John is a lot of great things, but we figured out early on that he wasn't cut out to be our official race photographer)

Howdy from Silverton, CO! Let's get this thing started :)