Jolee and I took a gondola ride up to Peak 8 this morning. A delightful way to start the day.
And please note, we finally replaced our camera that died a month or two ago. I know I’ve said it before, but hopefully we’ll post photos of the kids on a more consistent basis.
Perhaps a bit unsure at this point…
Sipping juice and hitting the dried mango pretty hard…
Feeling a little more confident on the way down…
mango junkie…
I hadn't planned on posting any sort of report on Saturday's North Fork 50 Miler, but it was notable for a few reasons:
1. It was my last really long training run before Leadville, which is now less than five weeks away.
2. At the end of the race my car thermometer said 94. That's 15 to 20 degrees warmer than my warmest run this year. I also realized that it was at least 100 degrees warmer than my coldest run of the year (at least with the wind chill accounted for, a few pre-dawn runs in January dipped well below zero). Anyways, it was scorching. At times I pretended I was back in North Carolina; I thought I might be able to fool my body into thinking it was acclimated to such conditions. For the most part, I think it worked. I didn't feel great on the course, but I blamed my tired legs on all the miles and climbing I've done in the last few weeks rather than the hot weather.
3. The condition of the course was incredible. It was 100% trails, and 99.9% was finely crushed dirt. With 7,200 feet of climb, it was a very challenging course, but my feet didn't have to endure the pounding on rocks they typically suffer in an ultra.
4. The aid-station support was second-to-none. It was on par with the Bull Run Run in Virginia, which is legendary for its great aid-stations. I've seen and eaten a wide variety of items at different races, but one aid-station at this race had bacon. Yep. Crisp, delicious bacon. My eyes lit up when they asked, "Would you like some bacon?" Of course I would, and I did. Twice. And then around mile 40 on my third and final trip past this particular aid station they offered me hash browns. It was a dream come true. They loaded up a cup of hash browns for me, dowsed it with salt, and I happily went on my way. And then at the next aid station they had popsicles. I felt pampered. The volunteers at all the aid stations were super friendly and helpful. Once the heat of the day settled in, all the aid stations had ice so I loaded up my hat at each stop (and would then run with a numb head for a good five to ten minutes).
5. My 9:38:44 actually won my age group. Like I said, I didn't feel great and I was suffering on the course, but I gather that most people suffered worse as there were many DNF's (Did Not Finish). This goes to show, however, that bacon is clearly the fuel of champions.
6. On the drive to the race, which was about an hour-and-a-half away, I thought I was hallucinating when I passed a sign that said "Coney Island" with an arrow pointing to the right. A few hundred feet later I passed the Coney Island, which I had only seen on the Food Network and I think on an old PBS special on the hot dog. It was a thrilling sight. I thought about stopping on the way home from the race but I was in a rush to get back and relieve Adrienne from solo parenting duties, and quite frankly, there was no way I could have stomached a hot dog just then. So now that I knew where the Coney Island was located, how long did it take to make a trip there? Less than 24 hours. We visited friends in Denver yesterday and we took the scenic route back to Breckenridge so we could stop for hot dogs. Clearly, the building itself is an architectural wonder. Although it's called Coney Island, it is not a Coney Island in the Detroit sense of the word. Nonetheless, the hot dogs were good, June loved her cheeseburger, and June and Jolee both made friends with the baby squirrels hanging out in the courtyard next to the restaurant.
And then to finish off the day, we stopped for ice cream in Fairplay. June and Jolee deserved the treat, they were both traveling superstars throughout the day.
June’s friend Luke and his family happened to be there too…
Fortunately, Adrienne spent last night in Denver and this morning is running the Garden of the Gods 10 Miler in Manitou Springs. I’m glad she wasn’t here this morning to see this…
I’m also fortunate that June didn’t feel like weeping like I did. Instead, she was ecstatic about the snowfall. She got right to playing. Jolee was still sleeping or she would have been out there rolling in the wet snow too. I’d be remiss, however, if I didn’t mention that our weather for the past few weeks has been amazing—low 70s and no snow on the trails. Hopefully this will melt by this afternoon…
What a difference a month of solid training makes. Yesterday, I ran the Rocky Mountain Double Marathon just outside of Laramie, Wyoming. Molly and Phil graciously let me sleep at their place on Saturday night since their house is two hours closer than ours to Laramie.
At 3 a.m. the alarm sounded, I got dressed, ate some oatmeal, a banana, two bottles of Ensure, and headed on my way to the race. Once I arrived at the race start around 5:15, I quickly got checked-in and then sat in my car until 5:58, two minutes before the start.
The course was a beautiful 26.2 mile roundtrip out-and-back on mostly on dirt and gravel roads. Except for a paved three mile section that ran along I-80, it was really nice running terrain. The race director said afterwards there was 6000 feet of climbing for the Double Marathon, but he wasn’t positive and it felt like less to me, which is a good thing.
I felt good nearly the whole way. I finished the first 26.2 in 4:45; I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good this far into a race. My legs felt really fresh. Around mile 40 I hit a moderate low point. I had blisters on both big toes (I now know what socks I’m definitely not wearing for Leadville), and I wasn’t sure I’d finish in under 10 hours. I started drinking a lot of Gatorade, I survived the final segment along I-80, my spirits lifted, and then I powered through the last 6.5 miles to the finish. My finishing time of 9 hours and 48 minutes was good enough for 8th place overall. Except for painful toes from the blisters, I felt pretty good. I hung around the finish line for about five minutes before continuing the endurance event by jumping in my car and driving for a few hours back to Breckenridge.
Check out the fancy finishers belt buckle…
If there’s one area that I failed miserably with regards to this race, it was my lack of research and preparation for the actual race logistics. I didn’t pack gloves, but it was 32 degrees at the start; my hands were completely numb for the first hour or two. I also assumed I could buy the Snickers Marathon bars I prefer at any grocery store near my sister’s house, but we ended up having to go into three different grocery stores before finding some, albeit in a flavor I had never tried, at Walmart. And finally, I figured the aid stations would be moderately well-stocked. I told my sister the night before that “they’ll at least have bananas.” Nope. No bananas, no potatoes, no peanut butter and jelly. I ended up running the entire 52.4 miles fueled by nothing but potato chips, M&M’s, one Snickers Marathon bar, and Gatorade. Not ideal by a long shot.
I reveal this information with a great amount of trepidation. For I am a food purist, and I fear I’ll be treated like Hester Prynne should I attempt to cross the border back into North Carolina. Adrienne and I both love (lust after might be more appropriate) Eastern North Carolina style barbecue, and as you might guess, real Eastern NC barbecue is nowhere to be found in these parts. For our friends from Metro Detroit, the Eastern versus Western Carolina barbecue debate is akin to the war between Lafayette and American Coney Island—by the way, don’t you dare go to American. We hadn’t had any proper barbecue since our friend Alyssa brought some with her from North Carolina when she visited us in Denver last April, so we were getting desperate.
I’ll just cut to the chase: we don’t own a smoker, the traditional method for preparing the pork, so I had to look for other techniques to create the magic. After much searching I settled on…hold your breath…state of North Carolina please don’t hate me…using a slow cooker. Yep, a slow cooker. Maybe it’s not as big a crime as I think, but it felt like I was slathering ketchup all over a hot dog. But let me tell you, it could not have been easier and the results were quite stellar. Not as good as Allen and Son, on par with Hog Heaven, and superior to Q-Shack. Here’s the recipe, but don’t blame me if they don’t let you into the Tar Heel State.
the meat…
1. Place the pork shoulder into a slow cooker and season with salt and pepper. Pour the vinegar and liquid smoke around the pork. Cover, and cook on Low for 12 hours. Pork should easily pull apart into strands.
2. Remove the pork from the slow cooker and discard any bones. Strain out the liquid. Shred the pork using tongs or two forks.
the sauce…
Combine the white vinegar, cider vinegar, brown sugar, cayenne pepper, hot pepper sauce, salt and pepper in a jar or bottle with a tight-fitting lid. Refrigerate for one to two days before using so that the flavors will blend. Shake occasionally and store for up to two months in the refrigerator.
The barbecue was such a treat, we decided to make it for Easter; I think we’ve started a tradition.
fine barbecue deserves nothing less than fine china…
Adrienne really outdid herself. Molly and Phil joined us for the feast…
June and Jolee on the prowl for eggs…
I intended on running yesterday’s Collegiate Peaks 50 Mile Trail Run in Buena Vista, CO as part of my training for Leadville. My training through mid-March had been quite good, but then it fell off a cliff. Despite several 20+ mile runs and one 32 mile run between January, February, and March, my pathetically sporadic running schedule over the last month and a half didn’t give me a great deal of confidence for completing a demanding 50 miler. The race consists of both 25 mile and 50 mile distances. The course was a single 25 mile loop with 4700 feet of climbing per loop, so after the first loop you can call it a day or head back out and travel the same loop in the opposite direction. Last weekend I told Adrienne with a good degree of certainty that I would just do 25. But for some strange reason, I started to think I could do the 50 as the week went on.
The weather forecast looked hideous. It was calling for snow and 22 degrees at the start with rain, thunderstorms, and 43 degrees by mid-afternoon. Fortunately, the forecast was wrong. We had blue skies the entire day. The course was in perfect condition. There wasn’t even snow on the trail—what a treat. And I’ve run on a lot of pretty courses, but this one took the cake. The mountains here in Breckenridge are beautiful, but the Collegiate Peaks are much more stunning as they abruptly shoot skyward from out of the high plains. If you ever get the chance to run this race and the weather looks decent (twice before they’ve gotten dumped on with three to four feet of snow), then by all means, sign-up.
I smartly ran the first loop very conservatively. I walked the big uphills, drank a lot, and took in some calories (for the day, I ate 2 Snickers Marathon Bars, a ton of M & Ms, potato chips, a chocolate chip cookie, a ridiculous number of bananas and I drank water and Heed). I felt pretty good after a 4 hour and 53 minute first loop, so I decided to go out for the second lap. I stopped at my car, changed my shirt and hat, and took off back up the mountain. After the first lap I actually said to someone that the reported 4700 feet of climb seemed exaggerated. Well, I felt every bit of that 4700 feet and then some on the return trip. My legs and feet really felt pretty good the whole way. Until somewhere around mile 35, I thought I had a chance at breaking 10 hours. My legs were tired, however, so I was happy to slow down and work my way to the finish. I crossed the finish line in 10 hours and 46 minutes. I was extremely pleased with my run and it puts my training right back on track.
One of my favorite activities and fondest memories from my childhood was playing catch in our backyard with my dad. As you might already know, the game of baseball had a very special place in our house. My dad not only played professionally, but he coached all of us for many years in Little League Baseball and Softball. Needless to say, playing catch with June for the first time a few weeks ago was a special moment for me…
In March, Katye and her fiancé, Tim, visited us here in Breckenridge. On the Sunday of their visit, Molly and Phil drove up from Broomfield, and we all went skiing and snowboarding for the day. Adrienne generously watched the kids which allowed my sisters and me to ski together for the first time ever. Although they both lived and worked in Beaver Creek for years, I never skied with them because I had given up skiing for fear of a knee injury that could affect my other sports. Well, despite the many year wait to ski together, we had a great day out on the mountain.
The group shot…
Molly and Phil…
Katye and Tim…
Molly and Katye in 1995 in Beaver Creek (I think)…
and the 2010 version. Notice that Molly still has the same pair of mittens…
I fear that winter is going to hold on tooth-and-nail and will sadistically morph into next winter, skipping spring, summer, and fall altogether. The locals warned us that the winters are long here in Breckenridge. We know that the geography guarantees as much. And we know that this was considered a mild winter by Breckenridge standards. But seriously, please melt already.
Adrienne and I both made it to mid-March in good spirits, but then I think we reached our tipping point. For me, I can’t overstate how tired I am of running through snow. I can’t remember what it’s like to run without the threat of frozen water bottles, frozen eyelashes, or post-holing (breaking through the uppercrust of snow and sinking down to my knees or hips). Despite all the cold and snowy miles I logged this winter, it wasn’t until the temperatures started to warm up a bit and the dirt started winking at me from beneath the snow covered trails that I suddenly became incredibly impatient for it all to melt away. And naively, I thought it had. In just the last week and a half the several feet of snow on our lawn completely melted. The snow covering the parks where June and Jolee so desperately want to play went away as well. With temperatures in the upper 50s, I thought we had survived winter and lived to tell about it. But alas, I was so pathetically wrong. Starting late Thursday night and continuing through this morning, the snow fell without pause. We now have a fresh foot of snow. I had actually tucked our heavy mittens, hats, and snow boots into the depths of our closet, I nearly removed the screws from my running shoes, and I was just about to put the shovels away until fall. And then this.
We have a bear statue outside that we’ve been using to gauge when spring will arrive. For most of the winter, he was completely buried. Then in late March, his nose emerged…
We backtracked a bit in early April…
But in the last few weeks we resumed our march towards spring…
The snow on the bear and the grass had completely melted—until today…
I have run outdoors through the entire winter. I’m happy to report that I’ve logged precisely zero miles on the treadmill since moving here. Amazingly, today, April 24th, over a month into spring, presented the toughest running conditions so far. In fact, what started as a 16 mile run turned into a 4 mile jog interspersed with 7 miles of a hiking. Once I reached the Sally Barber Mine trailhead three miles in, the running was all but over. The Sally Barber Mine Trail steadily rises for roughly a mile and a half to the mine ruins at an elevation of 10,695 feet. Even through the winter, it’s very runnable. Not today. Despite not starting my ascent until nearly 10am, not a single track had been laid on the trail. This is a very popular trail for snowshoers and x-country skiers, so I expected a path to have already been cut for me. I’ll spare you the details, but if I’m running at a good pace I usually reach the mine ruins 45 minutes into my run and reach the Barney Ford trailhead in 58 minutes; today I reached those landmarks at 1:14 and 1:44 into the run. And for the entire 11 mile loop, I typically finish around 1:45; today I crossed the finish line at 2:44. Brutal. I had planned on adding five miles by heading up Bald Mountain on a trail called Nightmare on Baldy that ascends from the Sally Barber Mine ruins, but I didn’t feel like “running" for what would have been well over four hours today; I simply skipped it.
So pray my brothers and sisters that the snow melts by early September, because that’s when it started snowing here this past fall.
