birthday on the trails

After 29 hours and 33 minutes of running and hiking, I crossed the finish line Saturday morning at 10:33 am in Midway, Utah. It was, to say the least, a unique and rewarding way to spend my birthday. I’ll try to get a race report written in the next day or two.

on the shoulder

Today’s stage of the US Pro Cycling Challenge was a first for all of us: none of us had ever seen a professional cycling event. With many of the top teams and riders from the Tour, it has arguably the best field of riders to ever race on American soil.

For weeks we were warned about all sorts of road closures. The race didn’t come through town until 3:30, but we were told by local officials to get where we needed to go by 1 pm. We followed their recommendations and parked ourselves a little after 1 pm by the 10 kilometers to go sign. In hindsight, we could have waited until 2 or 2:30 to set up camp, but we had a fine time entertaining ourselves by the side of the road. We read books, we danced, the girls tried to beat each other with swimming noodles, and they dug up who knows what with their beach toys. Who knew sitting on the shoulder of the road for two and a half hours could be so much fun?

Before we knew it, all the official race vehicles and team cars were streaming down the road and then Andy Schleck pedaled right by us. Chase groups followed and I glimpsed the back of Cadel Evans’s calves (I didn’t realize it was him until he passed by). I have to admit, seeing the racers was really anticlimactic—it just seemed like a bunch of skinny dudes on bikes. Nevertheless, I’m glad we saw it, and the girls thought it was great.

our spot for the race. I figured we’d be easy to spot on the television coverage…

pro cycling in breck

Whether you follow cycling or not, I suggest tuning in to the US Pro Cycling Challenge tomorrow (Saturday) to see some nice views of our town. Saturday’s stage begins in Steamboat Springs and ends in Breckenridge. I think coverage starts at 4 pm EST on Versus and online via the “Shack Tracker” at www.usaprocyclingchallenge.com. This is a first year event and the top three finishers from the Tour de France (plus many other great riders) are racing.

Great Grandma: Great and Grand

Tuesday my beautiful grandmother, JoLee Taylor, turned 99 years old. She was born August 23rd, 1912, in Marshall County, Kentucky, and turned 7 years old before the 19th amendment was ratified and women won the right to vote. Only someone as flexible and even-tempered as she could have accepted all the changes those years have brought.

Marshall County still exists of course, but really it doesn’t either, at least not as it was in the early 20th century. Tobacco barns, mules, horse-drawn carriages, family farms…one of my favorite daydreams was that I could go back in time and grow up there like my grandma did, surrounded by cousins and other relatives, attending a one-room schoolhouse, playing in fields planted with corn, sweet potatoes, and sorghum that flourish in the rich bottomlands of western Kentucky. She lived there until she was a young teenager, when her parents moved the family to Detroit.

My grandma has called me sentimental, and she is right about that; I could never say goodbye to my grandparents without tears, and I’m still sentimental today, so I can’t always trust my judgment when it comes to the people I hold most dear. But, I’m sure of this: some people do make the world better just by being in it, and my grandma is one of those people.

She has always had a gentle, old-timey kind of humor that is quick and witty, but never at anyone’s expense. In fact I don’t think she’s ever zinged anyone. It’s an inclusive kind of funny, and she has many lifelong friendships to show for it. Although now in the late stages of dementia, there are still moments where that humor surfaces and we know something essential of the person is still there: she once admired a picture of baby Jolee and remarked that she was a beautiful baby. Someone pointed out that she’s named for her, and my grandma quipped “Well, she should be beautiful”. We asked her this past July if she knew how old she would be on her next birthday and without hesitation she told us she knew she was “old enough not to have to tell you”.

Keepsakes of my grandma’s have hand-scrawled names, dates, places and other important information on scraps of paper tucked inside; for our first anniversary she gave Lloyd and me an ornate glass sugar bowl and top. In her handwriting on a yellowing piece of paper inside: “To my parents from my Great Grandparents Karnes, around 1908”. In the event of a fire, it is one of the few physical possessions I would risk going back for once kids and cats are safe.

As long as I have known her my grandma has had an unwavering way of seeing the good, both in people and in situations. I wondered once if it was maybe naiveté? Or a remainder of a country upbringing? Lack of sophistication? But I don’t think so; it’s often a lot harder to be positive than it is to be negative. I think she has always deliberately dwelt on the positive in life, with a quiet but strong faith as a guide. And what a gift to have someone model that. If namesakes can magically confer personal characteristics, I do hope our Jolee can embody a little bit of her great grandma’s optimistic philosophy on life.

So happy 99th birthday grandma—that’s a lot of candles on one cake! We are all so blessed to have you with us. I love you.

Along the mountain track

Yesterday and today, I was back at the Leadville 100, but this year I was pacing instead of racing. I ran from Winfield (Mile 50) to May Queen (Mile 86.5) with my new friend Jill from Reno, Nevada. She had posted her need for a pacer several weeks ago on the Leadville 100 Yahoo Group, so I volunteered my help. We exchanged several emails, but we didn’t meet until Friday when I had lunch in Leadville with her and her boyfriend, Bruce. She is very laid-back and easy to talk to, which was a relief because I knew I’d be with her out on the course for hours. She had never done Leadville, but she had done a few other 100s. I started running with her around 4:45 pm and I passed the pacing duties over to Bruce for the final 13.5 miles at 4:00 am. I’ll spare you the details, but I will tell you it was a great experience for me. I’m surely not the best pacer in the world, but I helped keep her moving and despite some stomach issues, she was relentless. From mile 60 until 86.5, she didn’t get passed a single time. She easily passed 50 people in that stretch (probably a lot more). She did a lot of running during our 36.5 miles, and when she wasn’t running, she was hiking at a great clip. Long story short, she killed it. She finished this morning in a time of 27 hrs 33 min.

with Jill this morning at the finish line. she’s a badass…

My pacing efforts weren’t completely altruistic. It did serve as a training run. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be running the Wasatch Front 100. I promise not to overload you with a bunch a running posts like I did before Leadville last year, so this will probably be the last update until after the race.

From all indications, this is a beautiful, brutal course. I’m really excited for the race as it (1) should be a grand adventure and challenge (2) it starts on my birthday and (3) two of my best friends are pacing me. I’ll pick up Mike at mile 53 and he’ll suffer with me until mile 75. There I’ll start running with Brooke and she’ll carry me, literally perhaps, to the finish. (Brooke’s friend Darcy has actually won this race a few times.)

Although this course is run at lower altitudes than Leadville, it has significantly more climbing. Leadville has around 15,000 feet, this has nearly 27,000. The cut-off time at Leadville is 30 hours, whereas Wasatch is 36. By comparison, Leadville is a much more “runnable” race. I’m not an especially fast hiker, so, unlike at Leadville, I expect to finish much closer to the middle of the pack.

As for my training, it started slowly. With so much snow here, I didn’t start getting out on the trails consistently until mid May. My legs were in good shape from skiing, but they weren’t in running shape. In early June, I ran the Golden Gate Dirty Thirty 50k. It was a beautiful course with 7,680 feet of climb. My long run leading up to the race was less than ten miles, so just finishing was an accomplishment. I fully expected to DNF. Despite a very slow finishing time of 7 hr 45 min (I’ve finished 50 miles in less than 9), I was very happy that I kept my ego in check from the start, moved at a pace I could maintain, and got to the finish.

For the rest of June and into July, I did a ton of climbing. Most of my weekday runs had around 1500 feet, and my longer runs had 3,4, or 5,000 feet. I then ran the Leadville Silver Rush 50M in mid July. With all the climbing I had done, I naively thought I would have an easy day. I easily ran up the first several-mile climb, and I was surprised at how quickly I arrived at the top. That was pretty much the end of feeling good. Shortly into the next long climb I was reduced to hiking. I arrived at the halfway point in 4 hr 30 min, but I wasn’t feeling so hot. Theoretically, I should have run a negative split back to the finish (it was an out-and-back course with the tougher climbs on the outbound). Sparing you the details, I finally finished in 10 hr 2 min. Not a terrible time, but it wasn’t what I anticipated. On the way to the parking lot, I asked another runner who finished about ten minutes after me what he thought of the race. It turned out to be his first 50 miler and he said with the brightest of smiles, “It was on the greatest days of my life!”  Well, that gave me a reality check and reminded me to be thankful that I’m able to get out there and run at all. After some reflection, I think my difficulties in the Silver Rush will help me immensely at Wasatch. It strongly reinforced the importance of going out conservatively. Over the course of 100 miles, there will be plenty of time to catch up to the other runners.

Two weeks ago, I ended up running to Vail on a whim. My plan was to run up-and-over between peaks 8 and 9 at Breckenridge, drop down to Copper Mountain, and then run it in reverse. As I started down towards Copper, I realized Adrienne and the kids were in Vail, and I had always wanted to run there. Unfortunately, it was quite a bit farther than I anticipated. I figured it was a five or six mile climb along the bike path to the top of Vail Pass, and then a descent of similar length to Vail. The descent turned out to be 15 miles. When I reached the Vail city limits, I thought I had one or two miles to go, but I really had six. For most of the remaining miles I was on a totally exposed frontage road. It was miserable. I don’t recommend it. The total distance was probably 32 or 33 miles. (There are trails you could take from the top of Vail Pass instead of the bike path that would eventually drop you into Vail Ski Resort and then into town. I had called Mike during my run and he found me trail directions, but I was by myself and didn’t really want to get lost.)

I also joined in on the same night run in Leadville that I did a year ago. It went from Fish Hatchery almost to the finish. This year’s group of runners was flying. Despite regrouping several times, we covered the 21 miles in the dark in well under 4 hours. It was the first time I had been on the course since the race last year, so it was shocking how much faster I made it around Turquoise Lake with fresh legs.

Last weekend, I ran a half marathon course with Mike at night on the trails here in Breck. Mike wasn’t feeling spectacular but it was a beautiful night and no animals attacked, which is always a good thing.

So that’s my training in a big nutshell. There’s really not too much left for me to do before race day. I’ll do one more longish run next weekend (probably over to Copper and back), and then it’s essentially taper time. Our Lady of the Blessed Good Climbing Legs, don’t fail me now.

first run report

It’s hard for me to believe this run report is already overdue by almost exactly two months. June started asking me to take her running as soon as the snow started to melt. Here’s her first run, on June 9th.

look at those running shoes…

off we go to the trail…

taken on a different day, but this is the trail we ran…

this altitude profile really makes it official…

It was certainly my most memorable ½ or ¾ of a mile run. June stopped several times to pick flowers and take in the scenery. We made it back to the house feeling strong. We’ll have another run report soon: she really wants to run the trails with me at night.

fore!

On Thursday, I ran a trail that eventually dropped me off in the Copper Mountain Ski Resort. I crossed a major road and then cut right down the center of a huge gravel parking lot on the resort grounds. A few steps in, I noticed about ten people in the distance lined up across. It then became clear I was running right down the middle of a driving range. I very quickly moved myself to a side of the “range.” I had to skip over a few motionless balls here and there, but I fortunately managed to avoid getting hit. I’m not proud of it, but had I been a kid hitting a bucket of balls, I would have been desperately trying to pelt the idiot running down the middle of the range.

hiking continues

Last Saturday, Jolee and I drove to the top of Hoosier Pass and explored some new trails. Of all the places we’ve hiked in and around Summit County, I’d say this one yields the best view-to-effort ratio…

Mt. Quandary straight ahead…

the view towards Alma and Fairplay…

on the backside, not sure the names of these mountains…

Jolee singing along the way…

And last Monday, Mike and Barney joined us on the top of Boreas Pass as we revisited one of the first hikes we did when we arrived here two years ago. Here’s Barney heading up the trail…

looking serious…

at the top between Baldy and Boreas looking down at the valley behind French Pass…

the diapered mountain runner sprinting to the top. she’s got good lungs…

Barney in all his glory…

back at the trailhead, enjoying the snack I forgot to put in the backpack…

one final picture from the car on the drive back down Boreas Pass Rd…

we love brownies

Jolee’s version of grace before meals:

Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy brownie, through Christ our Lord. Amen

She hasn’t done it in awhile, but she used to pause after the brownie line and excitedly proclaim, “We love brownies!”

Hopefully I’ll catch it on video one of these days.

hiking partners

June was younger than Jolee is now, but she used to spend a lot of time in her jogging stroller running with me in Durham. I rarely run on smooth surfaces anymore, so I haven’t spent nearly as much time with Jolee outdoors as I did with June. Until recently.

Turns out Jolee loves our baby carrier backpack. She is content to sit in the thing for hours. I’ve been taking her hiking a lot lately and I can’t overstate how much fun it is. I’m actually getting teary-eyed just writing this because I enjoy it so much and I know I won’t be able to carry her up mountains on my back for very much longer.

Jolee is at the sweetest age. She is talkative, energetic, curious, and wonderfully thoughtful. Hearing her deliver in her soft voice an unprompted and usually unnecessary apology—“Sorry. My fault. That was my fault”—just about melts my heart.

While we hike we just talk the whole way. This is some of her typical commentary:

“I’ll gobble you up, Dad.”

“Are there monsters in the woods?”

“Don’t give up! Keep on going!”

“Where’s Baldy? Where’s Mountain Guyot? Where’s Mountain Royal?”'

“We won’t get rained on.”

“I want to see the valley.”

“I see the top. We’re almost there. Then we’ll see the view!”

“What did you say to her?” – she asks this anytime I say hello to someone on the trail

“This is amazing!”

“That was a great hike!”

“Is that Father Bear over there?” – asked today on our hike and it freaked me out. I had to make sure she didn’t really see a bear. She didn’t.

Today I said, “Excuse me,” as we passed another hiker along the way. Jolee thought “excuse me” was only for burps and sneezes and the like, so we ended up having a solid 15 minutes of discussion on the topic. She informed me, at least twenty times, that “If you’re sick, you sneeze, and then you say ‘excuse me.’” I never would have thought exhaustive analyses of such seemingly mundane topics would be so enjoyable.

So until we’re snow covered again or she tires of the backpack, we’ll keep on exploring the wilderness together, and I’ll keep posting pictures of our journeys. Here are the latest:

at the trail head yesterday preparing for a hike up Humbug Hill…

the view from the backside of Humbug Hill on American Gulch Rd…

Mt. Guyot from the top of Humbug…

Baldy in the distance…

Baby sunbathing and Jolee digging for snacks…

A good portion of the Ten Mile Range…

and today’s hike at Lilypad Lake…