Toe side, heel side, Ouch!

I think my left knee might actually show a bruise. And my bum is sore. And my hip flexors and my biceps and triceps and my abs. And, well, my whole body...almost. No fall so hard that I got a whip lash effect so my neck is just fine! There is something liberating about learning something new. And I'm not usually one to say such things being stubborn and all when it comes to new. I don't always like the learning phase, rather I prefer to go from novice to capable. Not novice to expert, just capable. But there is still an awful lot in between novice and capable.

I achieved something new to me on this trip to Monarch. I went into the trip expecting to spend a lot of time sitting in the snow and I expected to laugh at myself a lot. I did both. A lot! :-) In other words, I was okay with new and learning.

The drive to Monarch was gorgeous. I am wishing now that we had stopped somewhere along the Arkansas River to take photographs of the ice - bergs and sheets in amazing shapes and patterns. The water looked very cold. But it really was stunning.

We arrived at Monarch Mountain amid glorious sunshine. We were too early for a half day ticket, but just in time for me to sign up for a half day lesson and ticket. After which we munched on some cheese and clementines before deciding to hoof it up the bunny hill before my lesson and strap on the board. I was a little giddy - childlike really. Somehow snowboarding was really different - more so than my ice climbing - and quite reminiscent of the surfing adventure in May!

I was sure I'd be the oldest in the lesson. Not so. Me and a forty-something guy from the Springs and 3 teenagers joined Matt for a two-hour lesson. Classic snowboarder, out instructor appeared, but he was also a good teacher.

We sat on the bunny slope and talked about toe side and heel side of the board and then we just dove in - literally. Strap on the board, stand up and see what happens. Thank goodness Jane and I had spent that 45 minutes prior to my lesson playing around.

I never did master the lift. I managed one time - the first time post-lesson with Jane - to get off the lift without falling. And my last run on day 2 I made it all the way down the ramp, but then didn't really know how to stop, so I sat down. After all, what's one more landing on the bum - it was already sore! So lift mastery will come another day.

Within a run or two I had mastered a flowing leaf set of back side/heel side turns down the bunny hill. So what comes next, I ask Matt. You try a toe side/front side turn. Turns out, I'm not very good at these. At all.

Snowboarding is all about balance. Shifting your weight forward (toes) or backward (heels) and keeping your board pointed downhill, not sideways. And it's also about being "tough." gotta have a stance like in football (which I have never played) that won't get you knocked over: knees bent and pinched together, body straight. One might have thought I'd learn hard (literally) lessons quickly. Like if you try to stand up straight (knees not bent) on your board - WHAM down you go butt plant in the snow. Or in attempting a toe side turn shift your weight in your toes NOT your whole body. Otherwise, WHAM, it's a face plant - or nearly so but those trusty hands generally catch you before you eat snow.

So day 1 ended with two more runs up the bunny slope with Jane and then a trek down the mountain to the Monarch Lodge for the night. Quaint, clean and perfectly located we were both hungry and chilled. Food first then we sought out the hot tub - not so hot apparently and outside. Brr. We opted for the sauna which was perfect. Warmed us to the core and then upstairs we went.

We awoke to what appeared to be clear skies, but in fact it was gray. And then it turn to snow - must have dropped 4-5 inches while we were on the mountain. Jane is a saint. She took a million pictures and gave me as many pointers. And took only one run up high where she'd been the day before making her own tracks in untouched snow and without masses of people. Thank goodness for good friends! We did many runs and I fell an awful lot. But I laughed an awful lot too. There were definitely moments of frustration and as the day moved along it got colder and windier and so I got colder and colder - that's what happens when you spend so much time in the snow! We finally decided to take a break - warm up. Was a good idea on some fronts; not on others. It was hard to go back out but the rest was good. We did a run together, Jane and I, and I actually did some complete circles - toe side to heel side to toe side to heel side. Maybe, just maybe I was getting the hang of it. So while it was hard to go back outside after warming up, the rest adjusted the mental attitude and gave me two solid final runs of the day. One with Jane and the second on my own as she headed up high for some fresh tracks.

I'll get this, I'm sure of it. I'm eager to go again when I'm not tired and sore and can get a bit out of my head and just ride. Long on the list of things to do over winter break, it is also #4 on the list of 40 Firsts!

Christmas on Ice!

Thanks to Alyssa, Tad, Bill, Pete and many other kind folks I spent Christmas morning ice climbing. Why? Why not! When I mentioned some months back that I wasn't planning to travel for my winter break, Alyssa suggested I join she and Tad and some of their friends ice climbing on Christmas morning.

I bundled up with about four layers of clothing on bottom and top, nervous about being warm enough. Nervous enough that even with nearly everything laid out I didn't remember to bring my down jacket along for when I was done and possibly shivering. And I didn't remember my climbing harness either. Idiot. Thankful, on so many levels, to Alyssa who saved me. She loaned me boots (which I love), crampons, harness and Shannon loaned me her helmet.

I had a moment this morning when I thought I might bail, just take Syd up the canyon for a hike/run. Alyssa and Tad were running late after going to Midnight Mass and I laid down on the bed to read and wait. And it was then that I started to have second thoughts. But I pushed them aside, as I didn't want to give into fear. I was going to be with expert climbers and some of the safest people in El Paso County.

Turns out I had a blast. Stomping around in my crampons like a petulant child. Preferring to sink into my knees rather than stand up. Better center of gravity for sure. Makes it easy to see why that's the correct technique! Both Tad and Alyssa gave me tips as we walked from the cars down to the base of Silver Cascade - a trail in Cheyenne Canon I have not been on previously. And once we were at the cascade, I was turned over to Bill under whose expert watch I traversed a short distance low to the ground, learning to find pockets in the ice for my crampons or my tools and remembering the most important rule - ALWAYS make sure you have 3 points of contact on the ice. Two feet and one ice pick; two ice picks and one foot.

Before I knew it I was roped in and Bill was on belay. Ready, I asked nervously? Ready. Climb on. Okay. Here goes. My calves were burning at points like they've never burned before. And at times my knees were shaking - something in yoga I've heard called the tremor of truth. Bill reminded me that more important than the tremors was that my heels be down. Okay. Stay focused, Jessica. I haven't a clue how long it took me. There were times when I looked at the wall and thought there is no place to find a good pocket for my ice pick or there is definitely no place for me to put my feet. And then a deep breath and another look and sure enough there was an option. Then Bill said, "Okay, Jessica. Stand up now." Really? But that was the only way back down - to repel - which meant standing up, feet perpendicular to the wall. That might have been the scariest moment of the day - standing up that first time to repel back down.

On the ground my heart beat fast. Really fast. And my legs were a bit jello-like. But I'd done it. I'd climbed a cascade of ice. Nice! Pete offered hot cocoa which after two offers I took - grateful for the warmth inside me. I was shaking - more from adrenaline than from cold. A simple feeling of euphoria spread over me. These great people who didn't really know me were more than happy to help me on my first ice climb.

I waited a bit and then Tad belayed me again - this time up a softer piece of the ice with water running underneath. Stickier he said. In some ways much easier than the crisp, almost brittle ice that I'd climbed first (deeper in the shade). And yet in other ways a little spookier since it almost seems alive.

Alyssa and I headed for the car while other climbed a bit more. We hiked up above Helen Hunt Falls - another place I hadn't ever gone for all the hundreds of times I've been in the canon. Breakfast is normally up top, but the wind was a bit pesky today, so we were inside the souvenir shop that is open in the summer. Ron's wife Rita made the fluffiest, most awesome pancakes and Ron, some killer eggs. A day spent with good, kind and patient people.

I am reminded again how much I love the peace of the woods. I love to run and I love to run trail. But I think I have run to the exclusion of hiking and being out in the mountains. Maybe I ought to rejoin the Mountain Club. Or maybe I just ought to get out and hike a few more mountains. Good thing Marigny wants to climb a few 14er's this summer. I'll gladly keep her company. It is peaceful and so beautiful to be among the whispering pines and the ice covered water.

And so today marks the beginning of the list of 40 firsts. Last week I had my first taste of scotch and today I climbed Silver Cascade. Two done, 38 more great things to come!

Finding light on this shortest day of the year

These last few weeks have been pretty dark. I am grateful for the forgiving hearts of friends and the sore ears of my parents, for I wouldn't have made it through without any of you.

I love the solstice - both winter and summer. This time of year I am grateful for the fact that ever so slowly the days will be filled with more and more light.

I love the simplicity of the solstice. On Sunday, post running in the garden, we girls had brunch at the new Creperie in Manitou. Yum. Wondering what this has to do with the solstice? Jillian took a beautiful photo of Dani pouring cream into her coffee which made us all stop and think about how many simply beautiful moments there are each day that we overlook because we are too rushed, too busy and not really paying attention. I am reminded of the value in finding small things for which we are grateful each day. Not that it took the solstice for me to get there, but there is such beauty in thinking about the significance and simplicity of the solstice.

So I am grateful for ever more light and for friends and family and for the simple things that make me smile and bring beauty to my day.

Happy Winter Solstice!

Before I have to toast the next 40 years...40 Firsts

As I was slogging through a run on a snowy evening through my most favorite place, Garden of the Gods, I got to thinking about what I wanted to do before my next birthday. In running the question is always, do you age up this year? It's a polite way of asking if it's a notable birthday. I age up next year and it's a year in which I don't plan to run a marathon. Which is probably good because that exercise induced asthma that made an appearance this summer came back with a vengeance last night. It was, after all, 18 degrees and snowy under that full moon. I think it's time to see another allergist for a second opinion because the thought of treadmill running makes me want to cry - there is nothing more boring and I certainly can't take Sydney!

So back to the musings of my mind while my lungs and therefore body struggled. Somehow I came up with what I believe to be a pretty brilliant idea.

Forty firsts in the coming year.

Meaning 4o things that I haven't done - a way to celebrate my life. So I told my friends over margaritas and beers and they offered to help me make a list. Now I hadn't really planned on making a complete list as I want some of this to happen organically as the opportunities arise, but why not start with some ideas. You can imagine the conversation - it started reasonably normally, but quickly dipped into lots of laughter.

The list looks something like this:

1. Ice Climbing

2. Snowboarding

3. Ice Fishing

4. Fly Fishing

5. Go to Mexico

6. Mud bath/wrap at the spa

7. Ask a stranger on a date

8. Hmmm....maybe not

9. Cooking class

10. No marathon in 2010

11. Visit Glacier National Park

12. Karaoke - good thing I've done this before so I don't have to. HATE it!

13. Compost

14. Grow a potted herb garden

15. Play hockey

16. Ride in a Hot Air Balloon

17 - 40... Open to suggestion and discovery

Thankful that I decided to tempt fate...

I almost didn't go. But I decided to tempt fate. And so far, it appears that I have won! My brother called on Monday with the devastating news that H1N1 had made an appearance in their house. After much deliberation I decided to take the risk. So glad I did.

I needed to get out of town. Even though leaving my Sydney always makes me sad. But if you could see the circles she runs around me when I get home, you'd want to leave town occasionally too. She is simply ecstatic upon my return.

There is little better in this life than talking on the phone to the urchins (name given by their Mama and Papa) unless of course you can spend time with them in person. Even when they are a bit under the weather they are magnificent.

Whose heart wouldn't melt at the sound of "Aunt Jess, I really, really love you!" Out of the blue, for no reason at all!

At every meal they nearly came to blows about who got to sit next to Aunt Jess. My sister-in-law apologized once for always dictating where I needed to sit - she was keeping the peace by keeping track - I had no problem being told where to sit. :-)

I brought along some things to do - turned out especially good since we were in the house because of health and rain. Coloring books that made mosaics - both of them did an excellent job. But the highlight were the shrinky dinks. We three huddled around the oven watching with bated breath. The curled up so much we couldn't believe they'd flatten out. So we called my brother - what do you think? He shrugged his shoulders. We decided to have faith. Sure enough they began to flatten out. The oohs and aah's emitted were outstanding.

We read lots of books. I now have something to ask Katie about on the phone - I want to know how the Boxcar Mystery of the Houseboat ends. And Tristan likes to 'read' his favorite books to me, too. We made it to the park before dinner on Thanksgiving day. A short trip, but oh so fun - Nana, Opa, Aunt Jess, Katie and Tristan. And post-Thanksgiving we went to the Deep Cut site on Manassas Battlefield for a walk in the woods.

It was so very much what I needed. Time with my family; time away; and time with my favorite little urchins. Although maybe not quite so much food :-)

Finding Genius

One of my dear friends organized a showing of the film Beauty Mark last weekend. It's a thought provoking film on so many levels - women and exercise, women and food, endurance athletes, both men and women, and their addiction to exercise. It comes at an interesting time for me - a time when my goal for next year is to NOT run a marathon.

I've run 7 marathons. The first one was in 2001. The next six were between 2006 and 2009. A bit much, maybe. Not that I would go back and trade a single one of those experiences.

• 2006 was my first sub 4-hour marathon in Des Moines.
• And then 2007 saw my unbelievable Boston Marathon Qualifying run in Duluth and a birthday celebrated by running the California International Marathon.
• 2008 marks the beginning of my blog - the result of running the Boston Marathon and witnessing the Women's Olympic Trials and my first attempt at the Pikes Peak Marathon which I loved enough to repeat this past summer of 2009.

It's time to run for the pure pleasure of running; it's time to spend my summer (or my upcoming winter) without training "hanging over me," and it's time to run more and more trails. That's where I am most at peace - where I don't think about how fast I'm going (or not going these days) and where I appreciate just being out, being alive and being surrounded by so much beauty.

So what does this have to do with Beauty Mark and finding genius? One of the things that the filmmaker asked the women (one guy) in the audience was, "What is your genius?" By that I believe she meant what is your passion, what do you love to do, maybe even what defines you? Once not so long ago I might have said running - if you ask a lot of people who know me that might still be what they say about me. But I was left wondering what my genius was....I had no idea really and I was so grateful that she did not ask me. And that left me feeling lost. It's not really good for the self esteem to feel like you have no purpose, but that's how I felt. The feeling was accentuated by similar questions about my work and my volunteer commitments, so maybe the timing wasn't ideal for me.

I was fortunate enough to spend some time with someone very wise and someone who can always guide me back to center and grounding, very soon after this film. And she said to me, isn't your "genius" being true to yourself? Living an authentic life? Allowing yourself to be whole and rewarding yourself for all the hard work you've done to be true to yourself? I am notoriously hard on myself and too often take on the burden of others - burdens that are not mine to carry - so more often that not I don't see what I've done to be good and true to myself.

So I am practicing the following things:

• Celebrating healthy choices
• Celebrating a run because it makes Sydney happy and not worrying about how fast or how far we are going
• Running on trails where my soul is fed and I remember and experience why I love running
• Doing only those things in my life that feed me in some way
• Spending time with good friends
• Taking risks but not expecting myself to take huge leaps of faith
• Being good to myself
• Being content to make my own choices even in the midst of difference.

November is quite possibly a good time to be thinking about this - a time when we naturally reflect on that for which we are Thankful. I know that I have a lot to be Thankful for - and taking care of myself in the ways that are good for me is among the most important of those Thanksgivings

Called to serve?

I heard a CC graduate speak tonight to a group of promising high school seniors. CC pushed him to move beyond using the statement "I feel..." to using the statement "I think..." and supporting his thoughts with evidence. He left a profound legacy at CC by convincing the community nearly 15 years ago that there was a need for a multicultural residence hall that still serves our community today. He is now a voting rights lawyer for the NAACP legal defense fund. He spoke with ease, humor and humility. If every one of those high school students wasn't moved to find their purpose, be it at CC or elsewhere, then they weren't listening.

The speech made me think about my own calling and purpose for at least the second time in a week. Late last week I interviewed a young man who is an Afghani refuge. There is nothing in my life that will ever equate to his life experience which is 10 years shorter than my own. I was overwhelmed by the conversation, moved to tears, in fact as I tried to reflect on the conversation. What can I do, really, to make a difference in his life? I can admit him to CC - maybe or maybe not depending on his credentials, the competition and the financial aid available. I hope that I have the opportunity to make a small difference in the life of someone who will make a profound difference in the world. He was a translator for the US Army for a number of years and spoke passionately about the fact that we really do all want the same thing - peace - we just haven't figured out how to communicate with one another. Maybe I can help, he said, with a degree and the credentials to support my claim.

So what is my purpose? Am I really making a difference in this world? Maybe I am. I meet so many talented students and those conversations I have help me to know them and that helps me to make good decisions about who to admit to CC - a place that does teach students that they have the power to change the world. But sometimes I wish I had a more clear calling. Is this purpose enough? I know that we all can't be like the CC grad who spoke tonight, or the student I interviewed last week.

Is it enough to mentor young CC grads, as a colleague told me tonight? Maybe.

Is it enough to seek out and enroll the next generation of inspirational leaders? Maybe.

Tonight renewed my faith in a place that I believe in, but that has certainly challenged me especially lately. But it also makes me question my purpose. How have I really been called to serve?

Where did the weekend go?

Why is it that weekends go so fast? And why is it that I still have so much to do?

It's my first weekend home in a few weeks and it's the beginning of a long stretch at home, so getting "it all done" is less of an issue, but I still wonder where the time goes!

Much of my Sunday was spent around my house, which I love. But sometimes it is more than I want to manage. Really I just wanted to spend some part of today sitting on the couch reading my book. Why didn't I?

Well there's kale - two bunches - to be dealt with (and I didn't get to that). I roasted the dozen or so chile's I had and then made Chile Verde. Into the freezer it'll go for a cold night in the coming weeks. Thank goodness I had an extra hour today because I roasted those chile's before running with the girls at Red Rock Canyon. And if I hadn't? Not sure I'd have actually gotten it done!

First run with the girls in a while. Matter of fact, first run in quite a long time. After the crazy storm earlier in the week, today dawned a gorgeous day - too warm, in fact, for the capri's I had on. Oh well.

And after the run, it was time to finish dealing with the chili's, go to the grocery store, throw in another load of laundry, and cut down all the dead flowers from the summer. The intent was to rake and bag them too, but well, you see where I left them to come in and make a salad for the dinner party I am headed to shortly.

It's been a gift of a weekend - filled with authentic and meaningful friends. Friday night dinner, Saturday's hike along the still snowy High Line Canal in Littleton with a friend I hadn't seen in too long. I came home to bake a pumpkin chocolate cake to take to Alyssa and Tad's to spend a quiet Halloween. And then of course, there is all that has happened today.

And there is all that is still to be done: raking all the leaves and dead foliage, cleaning gutters, folding that laundry, vacuuming and cleaning the house. I did manage to put the Paper White bulbs in a vase - so they'll bloom in a December - when it's cold and the world seems dormant. But it is days like today that I wish for a little help. I love my house and Sydney loves her yard, but it's days like today that I'd love to share this house - share the chores so they'd get done faster and there would be time for another adventure and, of course, all the other things on my list....

Frost Filled Fun....

In October. Okay, yesterday I was not loving this weather. Freezing drizzle! Really. In Colorado? I don't understand the science - how can it not just be snow IF it's 21 degrees?

But today, it was all worth it. Syd and I got up at 7 and quickly curled back up under the warm covers. We weren't meeting the girls til 8:30 and boy were we glad about that. It was one of those days when I really wanted to stay in bed, but it was also one of those days when I knew I would be glad I got up and out. We were not disappointed.

Small group today - Dani, Jillian and me and Syd and Mia. And it was awesome. There is no better way to feel alive than to be out on such a magical day. We slipped and fell (at least two of the three of us and the other was damn close many times!) and we laughed and yelped. We were covered in leaves and frost and well, words can't seem to describe this day.

I am not ready for winter. And today felt more like February than October. And yesterday, well, yesterday was miserable. But I guess to see this kind of beauty sometimes you need to wade through the miserable first.

And next time we have coffee and oatmeal/oatbran with pure maple syrup and peanut butter at Dani's house in Green Mountain Falls, I might just not leave her living room. It's a sweet little sanctuary, the home she has. Thanks to friends as adventure-loving as me we braved a cold day and they fed my soul for a day or two. And all the people pics - credit goes to Jillian - well except for the one she's in!

Sundays

I remember hating Sunday's in college. Late Saturday nights, followed by a mountain of homework and of course, class started again on Monday. Don't get me wrong, I like school fine, but Sunday's just weren't any fun.

When I was a kid, Sunday's usually meant a family trip somewhere. Usually a hike or a picnic. I can't always say I loved those when I was a kid, but as an adult, I am so grateful that my parents always set aside a weekend day for getting out an enjoying CO and spending time together as a family. I know there were days that I complained like a champion because it would have been so much more fun to hang with my friends than with my family. But I also remember, once we got wherever we were going, I almost always had a good time.

And now, I look forward to Sunday's. They almost always include a long run. But more than the run, they almost always include good friends. When I was focused on marathon training it was often just me and Jane. But last year post Pikes Peak I started running with another group of women. Now Sunday runs range from as few as 3 (it's rarely less than that anymore) to as many as 8 or even 10. We have a range of paces and on some Sunday's those paces stray from their usual. Rarely do we do the same run two weeks in a row and rarely do we miss a week. I need these friends on many Sunday's to push me up the next hill, or get me through a run that's harder than it should be. And I need them because they make me smile and because the make me laugh. And laughter is good for the soul. Amazingly, this summer's race series was on Sunday's which kept up the long run tradition on Sunday and with Jane!

Most Sunday's we also go for breakfast after our runs. The Egg & I, Adam's Mountain Cafe, The Peak Grill or Old Worlde Bagel. It's actually been a while since the Bagel shop was a frequent stop. Jane and I used to go, shivering after long runs at the south end of town. We'd always hope the couch by the fireplace was available so we could huddle by the fire. There are other places we venture. And this week we started something new. I hosted the girls for breakfast. I can't remember why we decided to do this periodically. I think it had something to do with the comforts of home and wanting to know our friends and their homes. Given my travel schedule which kicks off this week, I knew that even if I was home on a Sunday in October, I wasn't likely to have the energy to clean or cook! So I offered to kick off this new tradition. I had a ton of CSA veggies I wanted to use, too! I made a couple of quiches - cippolini onions, kale and tomatoes (all from the farm) and spinach, potato and cippolini onions (also all from the farm). We went crustless and meatless and nutless because among us we are gluten-free and veggie and tree-nut free, too! Some yummy Whole wheat, oatmeal raisin muffins, fresh peaches and pears (also from the CSA) and coffee from Anthony's on Maui (thanks Matt). Yum.

And my Sydney behaved. She let Mia come into her house and she didn't snarl, growl our act territorial at all. Big deal. She loves having people in her house, but she hasn't always been kind to other dogs in her house. So the day was an all around success.

Oh, and we ran in the Garden. A good 7 1/4 miles on the trails. It was a beautiful fall day, made even better by the presence of good friends.

Here's to Sunday's. Too bad they only happen once a week!

"Sunshine on my Shoulders"

Borrowing from John Denver.

I've been feeling an awful lot like a train wreck. Thanks to my good friend Marigny we got out of "dodge" this afternoon and, although we were chased by clouds, we discovered peace and beauty out at Pancake Rocks. I love the smell of fall and I love the way the Aspen leaves litter the trail and I love the way they make a forest fill with pockets of sunshine. Dogs were happy, that is, until it started to thunder. It "groppled" on us and it drizzled on us, but somehow that fit the day. The aspen made it seem like there was still "sunshine on my shoulders" and I needed to feel that warmth. Thanks Marigny, Derby, Sydney for a lovely afternoon.

Transitions

I read the following in an email this week from a yoga studio. It characterizes almost perfectly how I am feeling: "September is a month of gradual shift between summer and fall. This shift provides a range of new opportunities and new challenges - which can be simultaneously exhilarating and tumultuous..."

Transitions have always been hard for me. I value change. And, in fact, I love the beginning of each season each year. I always find myself at that time saying "Fall is my favorite season" or spring, or winter or summer. I don't really have a favorite and it seems odd that I would say I love each at the beginning when I find transition challenging. But I think the transition to fall is the hardest for me. The pace picks up, there is less time for myself and most definitely less time with my friends. This year it is especially true after such a rich summer - filled with adventures and good friends.

And I find that transitions also seem to accentuate what's missing.

No running goal - which is a good thing - but it's still a shift away from that single focus and there is an emptiness there, but that is also one of those voids that is a place of possibility. Because without a running goal, Sunday long runs with the girls can be more about finding new trails and enjoying each other's company.

The transition to a faster pace at work, in an office that is missing two staff - one temporarily and one permanently - has definitely challenged me. I find myself not crossing things off my task list, yet working a full day. And I find myself missing my colleagues - noticing that their presence is not a part of my experience.

And at the end of the days, I'm exhausted, going home to my exuberant dog. Thank goodness for Sydney, because without Sydney my house would seem so empty. She's loving and she wags her whole body; if only she could talk :-)

But it's the weekend and I have an abundance of fresh, organic veggies and a couple of recipes in mind for immediate consumption and at least one for the freezer for busy days ahead. If that doesn't fill some of the void, then nothing can.

Gratitude!

If only each of you knew how much your presence helped me finish this race!

Thanks, Mom and Dad for getting up early and "sweating" out the day. So grateful to have you at at the start, AND at the Summit (really this was the icing on the cake) and at the finish line. You may think me a little crazy - I think I'm lucky to have folks willing to support my crazy!

Marigny and Rich, for being at Ruxton and Hydro - I was hurting and the knowledge that those people on bikes were MY people not only made me smile, but gave me the extra energy I needed then. Your constant presence cruising down Ruxton really rocked!

Kat and Zach, for the loudest cowbell on Ruxton and for your constant encouragement. Maybe someday I'll try out a road bike....or, well, maybe!

Jane, I was running behind you, as always (at least when we race). Wishing you were on Pikes Peak with me or that I was on Vail Mtn. with you. Thanks for running six grueling and beautiful races so I could train for the Peak.

Karen, for asking me the really tough questions and for training with me for that first marathon. So much to be thankful for since those wet, winter days of 2001.

Thanks, Dani, Jillian, Beth & Staci for many Sunday long runs. I can't wait til we start those again! You give me something to look forward to every weekend!

Rich, Megan, Christy, Ryan, Gordon, John, Jonathan and the PPRR Sunrise Striders - thanks for early morning runs that pushed me to my limit and others that were followed by breakfast & good company.

Alyssa, here's to long runs for your marathon not mine! So grateful to you and Tad for Search and Rescue insight on the mountain and most importantly your encouragement.

I am blessed to live in such an awesome community. Thanks for all your support, friends!

Third Time is the Charm!

At last the weather cooperated!  Four years ago when I ran the Ascent we got stuck at the top in a hail storm.  Last year it rained and snowed for the Ascent and while the peak was visible at the start of the marathon, it was snowing  the entire time I was above treeline.  But this year, was picture perfect - both days! 

I learned in 2006 that valuable lesson, "Never say never!"  After my first marathon in 2001 I said I'd never run another marathon.  This year's Pikes Peak Marathon was my 7th (Grandma's in '01, Des Moines in '06, Grandma's in '07, California International in '07, Boston in '08 and two Pikes Peak runs '08 & '09).  But this was my last PPM for the time being - too many other runs to do, to keep going back to the same race.  

Like my Boston race, this was an historic event.  Boston '08 included the US Olympic Trials for the women's marathon - an awesomely inspiring day.  This year's PPM celebrated 50 years of women's marathoning.  The PPM has always allowed women to run (since 1956) and in 1959 Arlene Pieper (now Stine) became the first woman on record to complete a US marathon (KV  Swizter didn't attempt Boston until 1967 when she almost got shoved out of the race).   The most incredible piece of this story is that the PPM didn't actually know the whereabouts of Arlene until just one week prior to the 2009 PPM - and she, when they did find her, had no idea she held such a position in women's running history.  Arlene was the honorary starter of this year's PPM.  

I signed up to run the PPM again - much to my dad's dismay :-) - because I wondered if the weather cooperated if I could actually achieve a sub-4-hour ascent before turning around.  As my journey would have it, summer started with that surprisingly difficult Steamboat Half Marathon which led to the discovery of exercise induced allergic asthma.  Love that Colorado is greener than I have ever seen it - but my lungs and nasal passages do not.  Despite this, I had a good summer of training - running the Vail/La Sportiva Trail series and running with the PPRR Sunrise Striders on Tue/Thur mornings.  I say "with" loosely - as I mostly ran after them, with Sydney wishing that one of those fast people would take her for a run instead of me!  Only two summit workouts - definitely fewer than I'd hoped for - but the wind gods had different ideas and two additional attempts were foiled by high winds at the summit.  By race week I was glad to be done pushing it, in fact all I really wanted was to be on the other side of the race!

My greatest fans, Mom & Dad, arrived on Saturday for some pre-race Spinach Lasagna.  Their plan included taking me to the start, going home for breakfast, driving to the summit to be at the turnaround and then driving back to Manitou Springs to be at the Finish Line.  This year, they were successful.  The weather was beautiful and, most importantly, it allowed the to drive to the summit of Pikes Peak to find spectator spots at the turnaround!  I cannot express how awesome it was to have them both at the summit!  

I took it easy from the start.  Even with the inhaler, I was still nervous about getting to the top. My two goals for the day:  Finish the race & finish without blood.  It's a remarkable thing to reflect on shifting goals.  I'd had more than enough time (since signing up in March, discovering the allergy/asthma issues in June) to reconcile a need to change my goals.  A sub-4-hour ascent didn't matter so much as finishing this race.  And on race day, I had no interest in attempting a sub-4-hour.  I wanted to enjoy being on the Peak on a day that turned out to be perfect - a bit breezy and fall-like, sunny and even a bit on the warm side on the way back down the mountain.  I didn't overdo it in the W's - knowing it was too crowded and wasn't worth over-expending the energy (one of the great benefits of living near and training on the mountain itself). 

I have to say I really don't love the up.  But the downhill is fun and to do the downhill, well, you have no choice but to do the up :-).  And like last year, us back-of-the-packers, tend to have a pretty good time.  My favorite part of the trail is from the top of the W's to Barr Camp.  Yes some of it mellows out, but besides that, the forest is peaceful and this year was particularly beautiful.  Lots of wildflowers still lined the trail, even in mid-August.  Above Barr isn't so bad on the way up, but the down is ankle-breaker territory!  With still two miles to the top I saw the guys that I run after during the week - they all raced to sub-6-hour finishes - totally amazing!  

Nearing the end of the sixteen Golden Stairs there sat Dad - waiting, patiently waiting - for me to arrive at the summit.  I was a bit slower than last year - the cold, snowy weather spurred me on last year.  I really wanted to finish and I knew that part of that meant racing the weather so that I wouldn't face the possibility of being turned around.  And when you're cold, well, the faster you go the more heat you generate!  But I was still within my estimated time frame 4 - 4 1/2 hours to the summit.  Then came the turnaround/checkpoint and there sat mom.  I unloaded my jacket and my extra pack since I was pretty certain I wouldn't need gloves, hat or jacket for the return trip.  And I'd made the summit - still breathing without difficulty - so the inhaler went to the finish line with mom & dad instead of with me!  But that first goal, finish the race, made my summit attempt conservative.  I didn't know what to expect regarding breathing - my two summit runs had been fine, but they didn't include 7800 feet of elevation gain - so I opted to ensure that I got to the top so that I could turnaround and finish. 

And this year, I really did feel the almost instantaneous repletion of oxygen.  I "met" Lori on the way down the Golden Stairs - she's run 94 marathons and ultra's!  I admire her and enjoyed talking with her until it was time to fly a bit.  The downhill, after all, is why I run this race! Down to tree line and the A-frame aid station and then into ankle-breaker territory.  A-frame down to Barr camp is my least favorite part of the down.  And, like last year, below Barr, my legs started to cramp.  This year, the medial quads and on occasion, the calves.   I chugged Gatorade when I had the chance (having depleted my stash of endurolytes and Nuun, and Advil for that matter).  And I enjoyed the company of my fellow runners.  

And all of a sudden there were only 3 miles to go.  And then the same guy stood with his speakers on the fence posts blasting "Chariots of Fire."  This year produced an ear-to-ear grin, rather than tears.  Then comes the pavement and a significant shift in the pitch.  Ouch.  My legs weren't happy, but I was pushing 7 hours... 

At the intersection of Ruxton and Hydro were two people on bikes.  Turns out they were MY friends - waiting to bring me in!  Thanks to Marigny and Rich for giving me that first burst of adrenaline and for encouraging me and cruising down the hill beside me.  And as I neared the end of the Ruxton Ave. split, I heard a cowbell.  Not uncommon at races, but Kat and Zach had promised to bring out the biggest, loudest cowbell around!  Sure enough, there they were.  And Zach's mom too!  And like last year, Karen was waiting for me on the right side of the road, farther up Ruxton than most spectators venture.  And then at Miramont Castle was a HUGE crowd - Jillian, Beth, Dani, Christy & Ryan, Rich, Chelsea, Megan and I don't know who else might have been there.  On the last turn, stood mom and dad and someone they'd recruited to hold the sign.  As I approached the finish the clock read 6:59:....one final lunge took me across the finish line with 40 seconds to spare for an under 7 hour finish.  My legs weren't happy with that final lunge - the guy working the finish line thought they might buckle.  But they held!  The last voice I heard as I crossed the line was Phil, working the finish area - he had heard my name over the loudspeaker.  I was one of only 171 women to finish this race out of over 700 participants.  And I was in the top half of my age group and nearly the top 1/3 of all the women. Pretty remarkable, really, for a girl who found the reason she loves to run, again, on a 14.5 mile trail run up Vail Mtn. earlier this summer.  The trails are soft and they are less competitive and well, they offer up great scenery and a sense of peace and sometimes solitude and when you race they offer a bit of camaraderie too!

I am so grateful.  To have finished this amazing race a second time.  To have friends willing to get up early on their day off to see me off.  To have parents who support me even though they're convinced I'm on the "crazy train."  For a beautiful day on the mountain.  To have such amazing support from so many people.  To have a friend crazy enough to sign up for a 6-race series in the mountains so I'd have company. To have my own finish chute of cheering friends & family lining Ruxton Ave. 

Not your average Girls Weekend!

I have been running a lot.  It was nice to slow the pace this weekend, meet new friends and climb a mountain.  

Thanks to Alyssa who dreamt up this weekend AND made it happen - 9 women left the chaos of Colorado Springs for a girls weekend.  No pedicures (though our feet were begging for them) and shopping only to pass the time while we waited for dinner.  There was lots of chatter and laughter, to be sure.  And some rest, too. 

We women rented the San Isabel Bed & Breakfast for the weekend.  It was a lovely place, in a lovely location with three lovable house dogs (Cleo, Lucy & Max) and delightful Innkeepers - Dick and Cam - who might just have been a little overwhelmed by 9 women! Not your usual B & B clientele and probably a little more noise than when all your rooms are filled with people who don't know one another.

Friday we had dinner at Amica's in Salida and then headed back to pack our gear and turn in early.  Our wake-up call was for 3 AM.  Yup.  3 AM.  Depart B&B by 3:30 AM.  Cam and Dick were gracious in preparing breakfast the night before - a vast array of choices  from bagels, to homemade "granola bars," yogurt, grapes, bananas, and the makings for trail mix!  While most of us attempted the early bed time, few of us succeeded in going to sleep right away.  Alyssa and I chatted for a bit and then forced ourselves to try and sleep.  I think for all of us it was a fit full night.  And by 3 AM we were up.  By 3:30 we were all collected, but still slow to get out the door. 

Somehow I was in the lead car to the trail head - thankfully with Laura as navigator and DJ and Marigny in the back noting all the music that was also on her 10 year old's IPod, too :).  The dirt road to the trail head seemed much rougher in the dark than it really was (discovered, of course, on the way out in the daylight).  

4:45 am:  7 women depart the Blank Gulch Trail head, headlamps illuminated, for the attempt on Mt. Shavano (14, 229).  We scared a couple of men at the trail head, I think.  They scurried off ahead of us very quickly.  Some in our group had previously summited Shavano, others had tried with out success and one among us was making her first attempt of a 14er.  There was great energy, despite the early hour.  

It really is amazing to be in the company of strong women - women who are talented mountaineers, but also dedicated volunteers, professional women, moms, wives, friends and so many other things.  I am lucky to know women who think the idea of hiking - be it a day hike, a 14er attempt, or a backpack - is a great way to define a girls weekend.  In my world, so much better than shopping and pedicures (not that I don't love a good pedi) - but for me this weekend was authentic.  We all showed up without judgement and with only encouragement and open hearts (for we didn't all know each other, though everyone knew Alyssa). 

About an hour into the hike we came to a small stream, the sun wasn't up, but it was up enough for a breakfast break.  Up to this point we'd mostly stuck together - all allowing our muscles, joints and bodies to warm up a bit.  From here we made the first split - Marigny and Laura settled into a slow, steady climb behind Alyssa, Suzie, Crystal, Ashley and I.  As we climbed I found myself in the middle of the pack - a fine place to be.  And for a very short while leading the group.  

My feet weren't very happy with my footwear choice having spent their whole summer in flip flops or trail runners - the hiking boots felt stiff and constrained.   But they are good boots and the feet survived the footwear choice - no blisters or black toenails.  And my left IT band was not very happy with the ascent either - which reminds me I must pull out the foam roller tonight.  Owwee!  

The trail starts at 9800 feet.  RT is 9.7 miles with 4430 of elevation.  Maybe driving to the summit of Pikes Peak on Friday for 6+ miles between 12K and 14K wasn't the best idea.  My thinking:  I needed summit time and I saw a window, it would be my first summit run so I wouldn't be running fast or hard, so it seemed like a good idea.  But the first summit run of the year IS hard.  And the top 3 miles on Pikes Peak are among the hardest - if not for the altitude, then there's the sixteen Golden stairs - the top mile of the trail - rocky, wet and without much O2.  The short story - maybe my legs were already a bit fatigued when I started.   But I felt slow.  But slow and steady is just fine.  

Just above tree line I took up the rear position and settled into my own pace.  At the saddle we all recollected, fueled up and aimed for the summit.  I felt reasonably good, felt a moment of uncertainty as we searched for the trail through the talus to the summit.  But all those years of rock scrambling as a kid came back and the butterflies disappeared.  Find solid footing, use your hands if  you need and take one step at a time.  Before I knew it we found the trail again and then there was the summit.  

9:30 AM:  Alyssa, Crystal, Suzie, Ashely and I stand on the summit of one of Colorado's 54 14er's.  I had forgotten how amazing the view is from the top of the world.  I am insignificant.  I am humbled.  I am in awe.  I am grateful (a feeling I have often).  And I am happy.  And sweaty.  And hungry.  We rest, snack and chat with other climbers.  Suzie and Crystal split off and decide to attempt the saddle to Mt. Tabeguache and the rest of us decide to head on down the mountain.  

10:15 AM:  Just as we step below the summit, we find Laura and Marigny!  Yeah!  I return to the summit with them to be a part of Marigny's first ever summit.  A moment for which I am grateful - the chance to share Marigny's exhaustion and elation at having climbed one hummer of a mountain.  And a chance to breath in the views just a little longer.  

The descent is, thankfully, easier on my IT band than the ascent.  Nonetheless we take it reasonably slowly.  It's a long way down the mountain.  Hansel left a trail of Smartfood along the trail (two teenage boys trotting down the trail made the ground squirrels awfully happy).  Took longer to get to tree line than I anticipated and it was warmer in the trees than I hoped it would be.  But I love the smell of pine forest that has been heated by the sun - aroma is good, feel of it, less so!  Eventually we saw small aspen and finally felt a slight cooling as the forest changed from just pine to a mix of pine and Aspen.  And then there was the creek.  And some thunder (thank goodness we were well below tree line, hoping that Crystal and Suzie were too) and a tiny bit of rain.  But we knew we were within 45 minutes (maybe less) of the trail head. And we were ready to be done.  Knees, quads, piriformis and feet were none too happy any longer.  But we'd done it.  And the weather had cooperated. 

Along the way down I wondered out loud what a 4.5 hour ascent over 4.7 (or so miles) meant for the Peak.  It felt slow and I was discouraged.  Until Laura reminded me that that ascent of the Peak is different. It zig-zags more than this one did.  It's a different mountain, and a different trail.  No comparisons.  Just recognize the accomplishment, and be grateful for a different training opportunity and more importantly time with friends.  Yup.  Time with friends.  These are the things I will remember when I look back on my life.

2:10 or 2:15 PM:  Trail head!  We'd done it.  First order of business, FLIP FLOPS!!  Then, thanks to expert Laura's wisdom, ice cold Gatorade!  DJ Laura got us back to the B & B for showers.  And Shannon and Wendy - great friends that they are - got some Sunshine Wheat, chips, salsa and guacamole for us!  

It was easy to fall into bed post hike!  I awoke in the middle of the night in a panic because my alarm was still set for 3 AM.  I had no interest in hearing it chime or in waking Alyssa.  When I turned on the light on my watch I discovered it was 2:59 AM.  Yikes.  I'd barely caught it!  I fell back into a deep slumber until about 5:30.  But I didn't get up until 7 am, when I awoke to thunder, lightning and rain!  Thank goodness we made our summit attempt yesterday.  By 7 am we were well into our hike and we would have been soaked.  A nice morning.  Body was sore today - tight calves and that piriformis - well - it's there to be sure :)  Coffee and conversation, and a delicious breakfast made for peaceful and relaxing morning.  The rain passed and by 9:30 we were all packed and ready to go.  And yet, still a little time to spare for some yoga on the wrap around porch.  I know I was reluctant at first, but grateful (there's that word again) when we were done.  My body needed the gentle stretching before the 2 hour car ride that was ahead of us.

We said our goodbyes to the dogs, to Dick and Cam, to the chickens and the llamas and to the Sawatch Range.  We drove North toward BV then turned East and on home to Colorado Springs.  

Another good, Colorado weekend.  A few more summer weekends to indulge in this beautiful place I call home.  

Vail "Half" Marathon

I wish I had a pocket camera.  I ran the most beautiful race today.  It was also really hard, but wow.  I wanted all my running buddies to be on that ridge line with me.  And my parents and, well anyone that matters to me.  The brilliance of the Indian Paintbrush - first red and then, deep pink, and small, but truly brilliant lupine.  And who can forget all the high mountain peaks still snow capped.  I really don't think I have been any place more beautiful.  Really.

The race was tough.  A "Half" marathon that totaled 14.5 miles up and across Vail Mountain.  We climbed 4000+ feet over 10 miles and most of that was in the first nine miles of the race.  The first three miles were hard for me and I was wary of what the day would give me over those 14.5 miles.  Jane and I opted to leave the Springs at 4 am, rather than stay in Summit County.  So we watched the sliver of a moon set and mountain landscape appear as the sun came up.  Not a bad start to the day, but it could have made for a tough race and a long day.  I still get nervous at the start of races that I won't be able to breath - the inhaler hasn't failed me - but I can seem to help the nerves.  And then there were my quads - they were a little like jello and I thought, "please not another day like BTMR," add to that tight calves (a common problem for me) and I was really wary.  I ran the whole way to the first aid station - mile 3 and then walked the aid station to get some GU and water.  Apparently that was the trick, because the quads were much better after that, as were the calves (though they plagued me off and on the whole race).  

Miles 4 & 5 were tough as we turned on to a rocky jeep road that rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell but mostly it just climbed and climbed and climbed.  The scenery was awesome - a stream that kept appearing - sometimes seen, sometimes only heard.  And as we climbed, the peaks around Vail made their appearance.  Just before mile 9 there was snow - yes snow - in the trees.  And while I thought I remembered mile 9 to be the peak of the climbing, we weren't quite there yet.  But this section was muddy (snow run-off) and rutted and in the forest and really quite awesome - quiet and a little mystical.  It was here, of all places, that I fell into a groove.  And while I'd leap-frogged with a number of runners up until now, I gradually gained on them and passed them - for good.  And while I leap-frogged with a few people from 9 to 14, I never got permanently passed again but I passed a lot of runners.  Good feeling to feel strong so far into the race and so high up!

Around mile 10 we turned onto a single track trail that followed the ridge line and took us across the mountain towards the Gondola and the finish line. I cannot find words to describe this section of the run. I'd already decided that this run was helping to remind me why I run and especially why I trail run, but if I hadn't already been sold this section would do it for sure.  I wanted to stop and stare, soak in the color and snap this moment forever.  I was wishing Jane weren't so fast so we could appreciate together, but I knew she'd been through it already and had marveled at the beauty around.   The most beautiful place I have been - I'm sure of it!  So you add to the luscious green hillsides, the brilliant palette of color and the snow capped mountain peaks and you could not find a more heavenly spot - at least as I define heaven.  I wish you could have been there, I really do.  There was a small technical section - with ropes even - to scramble down and then we kept on across the ridge a bit longer.

And yes, there was another good, steep uphill climb after mile 11.  But I cruised the gentle uphill, until the pitch became steep enough that I was more efficient power-hiking than actually running.  The top of this hill, took us a bit farther across the mountain and again onto a single track - this time wooded and beautiful in it's own right, straight on to the the finish line.

Both Jane and I needed a good race.  And we both had a good race.  Neither one of us started the day feeling as though that might be true, but both of us found peace on the mountain today. The mountains didn't win today - or maybe the did because they were so beautiful.  Doesn't matter though because I'm glad to have struggled my way through their beauty.  Thanks Jane, for going on this adventure with me, and thanks Vail Mountain for feeding my soul and making my spirit soar.

Adventures in CB

For the third year in a row I've been fortunate enough to receive an invitation to spend a few days in heaven.  Renee, Rick, Kirby and Charlie the dog have welcomed Sydney and I to their rented home in Crested Butte for a few days.  

I covet those few days for so many reasons.

If you've been to CB then I don't need to explain.  If you haven't, well what are you waiting for?  I haven't actually been there in the winter time - it's apparently paradise, just as it is in the summer time!  And since I'm not a skier or boarder I haven't found reason to make the trek in the winter.  But as a hiker and trail runner it is pure bliss.  9000 ft of elevation surrounded by 12, 13 and 14,000 foot peaks makes for stunning scenery.  And this year has been a wet one in Colorado so the wildflowers for which CB is known were more amazing than I've seen them in the last 3 years (and of course my good camera was in the shop!).  

And then there is time with good friends.  Especially Renee.  We don't talk often, but it's always easy when we do reconnect.  So nice to spend time with friends who know you well (16 years this summer for Renee and I), who know your history and who make you smile.  There's always an adults only dinner which generally involves much laughter, great food and a few drinks.

This year brought a few more adventures than usual.  Syd and I drove over the afternoon of the Barr Trail Mountain Race.  I had a tough race, and while slower than last year, better than last year overall in terms of how I felt (read: I wasn't white as a ghost and ready to pass out at the finish).  My quads burned on the way up much too early (maybe the 9 miles in Victor weren't the best idea on Friday, but it was a beautiful run, with good friends, followed by four of us masquerading as 8 when we had $1.95 breakfast's at the local casino).  I soaked the legs in ice cold water and had a recovery drink, but my legs were still jello-like up to Barr Camp.  I cruised on the downhill - wasn't so sure as I turned around - but ultimately felt pretty solid and let myself cruise.  The last 1/4 mile of the race is just mean - UP Hydro street to the finish.  UP, after having cruised down for 6 miles.  I hate the finish so much that I held on to enough grit to really punch it up that hill this year.  Enough for spectators to comment on my push to the finish.  And I passed at least one guy on the UPHILL finish.  Sweet!

So 12.5 miles RT on Barr Trail, followed by THE reason to run BTMR, ice cold watermelon served up courtesy of my friends at Colorado Running Company, Syd and I hopped into the car to make the 4-hour drive to CB.

Dinner out was yummy though I'm amazed I lasted as long as I did.  By 10 my eyelids were heavy after a full, good day.  Monday brought the adventure of the week for Renee and I.  Took the Subaru on a stream crossing and up a steeply pitched jeep road.  We only made it halfway to the trailhead - too steep for my liking.  The trail, Rustler's Gulch, was easy enough, though I wish I'd had my Chaco's for the three water crossings.  Ah well, a little barefoot crossing is good for the heart rate and the soul :-).  

I have never seen so many varieties of wildflowers as I did this year in CB and the Rustler's Gulch trail did not disappoint.  Fields of yellow, purple, some of the biggest Columbine I've ever seen, red and white paintbrush, monk's hood, lupine, assorted sunflower varieties.  It's near impossible to really describe the palette across the emerald green landscape.  We got chased back by thunder and the need to make sure we were back in time to pick up the boys from their day of rafting.  We survived the drive down the steep pitch of the jeep road, only to forget the importance of rolling up the car windows when fording a creek.  Ooops!  As Renee described it, "Better than a water ride at Six Flags."  Thought for a minute I had a flat tire, but instead an easy fix to the plastic bumper only to discover the front license plate missing from the car.  Ooops!  A quick trip back to the creek did not yield a license plate - still have the back one and the registration and still trying to figure out what to do about this.  

But the story gets even better.  Renee said we should stop in the local mountain store, The Alpineer, to let them know I'd lost a plate just in case someone found it.  They recommended that I call the local radio station because they announce lost & found twice daily!  Seriously?  Yes!  So I called the station, told him my story and was asked to call the DJ.  I did as I was told, gave him the scoop, lost license plate on the road to Rustler's Gulch, name and contact info.  Call back later or tomorrow and if anyone finds it they'll call you.  Really?  Really.  They shopkeeper at one of the local liquor stores told Renee he'd heard the announcement and noted he too had lost at plate at Rustler's Gulch - never recovered.  It really wasn't that deep or treacherous!

I finally got to run Snodgrass - a famed trail that Renee had oft talked about.  It was hard - uphill to start and some good steep pitches but it ran through an Aspen Grove and had awesome views of CB and Mt. CB.  My body wasn't happy to be running these hills again - still feeling the effect of BTMR - but my heart and soul wanted to be no other place.  We were starving when we finished and felt as though we'd earned ourselves pizza from The Secret Stash - another often talked of locale that I hadn't been too.  It satiated and lived up to it's reputation.

Wednesday morning Syd and I ran the Lower Loop - one of my all time favorite runs in CB.  In fact, here's last year's post.  It's a gentle single track along the slate river.  A reprieve that my tired and sore body needed after the beating I had apparently given it in recent weeks.  

It is always hard to leave the serenity of places like Crested Butte and Steamboat Springs for the chaotic reality of life in the Springs.  It's not that I don't love my life here, but somehow things slow down and what really matters - time with friends and family, adventures and a quiet soul resonate so much more clearly. 

On to the next adventure, a girls 14er weekend in Salida to attempt Mt. Princeton...oh, and a 14.5 mile "half marathon" on Vail Mountain this weekend.