Pikes Peak: 14,115'

Happy and acting silly before the race.

Perhaps one of the last smiles of the day.

It started months ago when Dana announced she was getting married on the day of the Imogene Pass Run.  Christie, who has always wanted to do the Pikes Peak Ascent, used this as ammunition to get us to agree to do it.  At the same time, as if the stars were aligning, Robyn was looking for something new, something different.  And then it happened.  

A group of us (myself, Robyn, Hallie, Christie, and Shelley) descended on Colorado Springs this weekend to participate in the Pikes Peak Ascent. The PPA in two measures is 13.32 miles, and 7,815' elevation gain. In two words, it's insane and stupid. So... right up my alley.

View of a lake from somewhere on the trail. :)

The race begins at 6,300' and ends at 14,115'. Runners leave Manitou Springs and travel by road up to the Barr Trail. From there, the course follows the trail and goes up. There are very few downhill sections and the average percent grade is 11%.  From miles 1.5 to 4.5, the average percent grade is 13% - just in case you thought the beginning would be easy.  From there it does "level out" (8.3% grade) to Barr Camp - but by now you've run a total of 7.6 miles and have climbed to 10,200'. At that altitude, you're breathing air that has 70% of the oxygen that sea level air has.  Stopping to consider how tired you are and what you have ahead (nearly 4000' more of elevation gain over just under 6 miles) could be fatal. 

Barr Camp to the treeline is 2.6 miles, and at a 13.1% grade this section is taxing. Once you reach the treeline you're at 11,910' and you've traveled at total of 10.2 miles.  Trees do not grow above this level and from there you can look up and see your fate. 3.1 more miles to the top at a 12.4% grade. It's wide open. You can see the runners in the waves ahead of you slowly working their way back and forth across the mountain. It's painful to look at, yet you carry on. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving forward. As the race planners for the Imogene Pass Run said, if you keep moving forward, no matter how slow, you're at least getting there. If you stop, if you don't move forward, you will never get there.

Leaving the tree line.

Above the treeline the trail is mostly loose gravel, with a short section of broken rock. The last section is known as the "16 Golden Stairs" - referring to the 32 switch-backs to the summit. It is gravel with step-ups of 10-15 inches - the very LAST thing your tired legs need at an altitude that now has 60% of the oxygen that sea level air has.

With 5 miles to go I was miserable. Thinking the usual "why do I do these things, why don't I train?"... etc.  I looked at my watch and did some math and figured I must have missed the 4-miles-to-go sign.  I trudged on and 5 minutes later I felt a little dizzy so I snuck a gel out of my pocket - the third of the day and not the last - and gagged it down with the water I had left. I turned a corner and up the hill I could see the 3-miles-to-go sign.  When I got there I almost sat down in disbelief. It said 4-miles-to-go. I couldn't believe it. How long had that mile taken me?  Could I possibly finish at this rate?  

I decided to take it easy until two miles to go, figuring at that point the adrenaline to finish would kick in to carry me the remainder of the way.  It did.  The finish was absolutely exhilarating. The whole race I tried to pick people off one by one, and by now I was consistently passing people who started in the wave in front of me. I could see the top (albeit it looked WAY too far above me to possibly reach in 2 miles). I could hear the announcer.  Each switch-back got me closer to the top, and then finally the last one. I was exhausted, I could hardly lift one foot in front of the other, but I had more energy then I did at the bottom.  What a day. 

We all finished. It took Robyn and Hallie 3:44, me 3:48, Shelley 4:25, and Christie 4:41. I was the 71 female to cross the line (out of 484), and 413 overall (out of 1646 who finished).  Not too bad for someone who's been injured and had trouble training. Ha, who am I kidding. As if I would have trained anyway. 

The end.

Ay Chihuahua!

I went to Mexico for an annual meeting and to do some work in Mexico. This time it was in/near the tiny little town of Creel, in the state of Chihuahua, Mexico. Its up in the mountains, you won't find it on most maps. In fact, our government travel agent couldn't even find it. 

We flew to Cuidad Chihuahua and stayed the night there before departing for Creel the following day.  It was a 5 hour train ride through some pretty scenic country.  At one point the train made a really jerky stop.  Then it backed up about 200 feet or so, and made another jerky stop.  After a few minutes we proceeded forward.  Someone working on the train passed us by and we asked what happened.  "A few cars detached," he said very calmly and peacefully as if it happens regularly.  Huh. Interesting.

Only in Mexico are you allowed to stand between cars and hang out over the side. I took this photo of "El Chepe" making its way towards the mountains by doing just that. 

Another photo taken from "El Chepe," again, while sacrificing my life hanging over the edge between cars... knowing any minute it could randomly become detached.

The hotel in Creel was a nice lodge style hotel, very Americanized actually. Not necessarily a good thing, but it was pretty clean.  When I checked in I was given a suite with 3 beds, a huge bath, a waiting/seating area, and an office. I opened my big mouth about it and Miguel told me he had a female student coming that had planned to sleep on the floor in his room. He asked if she could bunk up with me.  I said yes feeling a bit uncomfortable, but also feeling like a good person for being so agreeable.  It wasn't long before Jorge told me he has two students coming and they were supposed to have two rooms, each with two beds, but now only has one room. So he asked if he and his students could share my room, and me and Miguel's student could share a two bed room. How does one say no?  I'd quickly been downgraded off my high suite horse into a common room, which I now had to share with a spanish speaking student. Next time mums the word. 

Photo of the outside of my room.

Jorge took myself and Peter out to an area they are considering as a release site for wolves. It was the most death defying drive I have ever taken. Passing cars while cresting a hill (no telling what was coming on the other side - a logging truck perhaps, a minivan with 9 kids in it, etc.), 4WD on two wheels because we're either going too fast or that's all that would touch going over the crevices, or simply veering off the road while trying to look up words in his spanish to english translation dictionary.  Jorge was pointing out all the "altars" and "cruces" on the side of the road (memorials and crosses) - he said there are lots of car accidents in Mexico. NO SHIT. 

Creel is a nice little Mexican town. Every time I visit Mexico I am amazed at how helpless we Americans are. There are sharp pipes emerging from the sidewalks, cut off at about 4 inches high. There are uneven sidewalks (we're talking 8 inch difference), there are holes knee deep, etc. Anywhere in America you could hurt yourself on these things and sue. Here, there's a level of responsibility you have to assume for yourself.  If you didn't see it and you tripped on it, who's fault is that?  I love it. 

Creel, Mexico.

One night we drove out to a Tarahumara cave and had a small fiesta. It had been raining for hours and we piled into a school bus and headed down the treacherous roads. I've never seen a school bus go through passings so narrow, puddles so deep, or dangle on cliffs so slippery. We made it there ok, but as the driver turned the bus around to depart, it slid off the road. You could say we were lucky for not being in it, but now the bus was blocking the only way in and out - and the food was behind the bus!  Luckily the alcohol was with us. 

Photo of the tables inside the cave.

Photo of my favorite stray dog.

This dog came to visit us at the cave. She was clearly lactating and very hungry. She sat patiently next to our table just outside the cave but still under the overhang out of the rain. Since I don't eat meat and dinner was a big slab of beef, this pooch was well fed. Several at my table collected their fat trimmings for her, and we gave her as much cheese and other food we could find. I'm pretty sure the service crew was wondering where all the food was going!

We took a trip to Copper Canyon - sort of the Grand Canyon of Mexico only much deeper (2,000 feet deeper on average I think). It was very breathtaking. The Tarahumara live in the canyon and come up to sell their goods.

Tarahumara family making baskets.

We did a bit of hiking too.  The photo below shows a pretty famous rock outcropping. It is famous because the rocks on the end rock or sway like a teeter totter if you stand on them. Very scary over the canyon.

  

And yes....

I am standing on the teetering rock.  YIKES!

We saw every humming bird there was to see in the area at just one location.  It was pretty incredible! Okay, I didn't see one of them, but someone else did. My favorite was the violet-crowned hummingbird. 

Acorn woodpecker, I think. What, you think I'm a wildlife biologist or something?

Three of us hiked a ways down the canyon to an actual Tarahumara dwelling. It was very interesting to see, especially given the reading I had done about the tribe beforehand. 

Tarahumara dwelling.

Photo of rain in the canyon.

Another Tarahumara dwelling.

A pretty lake.

All in all it was a great trip.  The travel on each end was a little long (two flights, three taxis, and a train to get one way), and I feel like there were times where losing my life was imminent. But I made it out alive, the food was great, the scenery was amazing, and I'm sure it's a spot in Mexico I never would have gone to if not for work.  

Santa Fe Century, 2009

Last weekend my parents took the train from Los Angeles to Albuquerque for a visit and so my mom and I could ride the Santa Fe Century.  Two weekends prior I had strained my calf, and one weekend prior I did the Dances with Dirt 100k relay (see previous post) and did more damage. What better thing to do than get on my bike and ride over 100 miles after riding 0 times thus far this season?!

Me and Mom - First Few Miles

It was FREEZING for the first 25 miles, and that is an understatement. Luckily I figured out a way to pedal without using my calf, so riding didn't actually hurt... in the beginning.

Me At The Finish

The ride felt good the first 80 or so miles.  Then at about mile 82 my riding style to avoid using my calf was taking a toll on my knee. I was in so much pain for about 10 miles I thought I wouldn't be able to finish. Luckily it numbed up a bit and I kept going. Seriously, one of these days I'll train for an event I sign up for.

Mom At The Finish

My mom did AWESOME. She thought about quitting around mile 80 and I convinced her the worst was over (of course lying - it was uphill from there to the finish, the finish is over 100 miles, and there's a long stretch of it on the freeway). She trucked on and finished in good spirits!

Two Happy Finishers

Except for the cold, the weather was beautiful. The course is pretty and the ride is very well put together and supported by the organizers. 

Now, finally for some rest. The rest of May off to heal my calf and then I need to start training for the Pikes Peak Ascent.  Ha, who am I kidding.  I don't train.

Dances With Dirt 100K Relay!

Mike's Dance Barn (a literal dance barn) was on the side of the road somewhere in Indiana between Bloomington and Nashville. Our rented Chevy Tahoe only had 300 miles on it when we pulled out of the Indianapolis airport, but it was raining and had been raining and the SUV's sparkle was covered in splatter by the time we arrived. We sat in the dirt (mud) parking lot and gazed across the way at the check in tent.  Eventually we all darted through the mud and grass to the check in. There was no room for people under the tent, and we checked in standing under the runoff from the tent roof. A lean forward meant runoff down the back of the neck. A lean back meant runoff on the face. Standing still meant runoff on the top of your head.  I knew then and there that the Dances With Dirt Race organizers had very little regard for the participant's comfort and well being.

The Terrain

The 2009 Gnaw Bone Dances With Dirt 100k Relay is all about stupidity. The waiver mentions death 3 times, not because the waiver is stupid, but the event is about making runners do stupid stuff.  Yes, there is a trail.  But yes, instead of running on it, we bushwhacked through the woods of this Indiana state park through mud, up and down creeks, across rivers, etc. There were 5 of us running 15 legs. Excerpts from the leg descriptions include:

"An aimless trek through the woods with funky footing, thorns and big hills and rivers. Head north back where the previous runner came in, a big climb then run the thorny ridge then a bushwhack down to the river, right in the river a hundred yards or so then to the highway..."

"...down a ton of steps to shatter your quads, then bushwhack up and down a serious hill to a mucked up horse trail filled with horse remnants, muddy hoof prints and several creek crossings (rivers if it rains)."

"... bushwhack 0.4 miles into the woods down to the creek, then, crawl up the creek about 3/4 mile to the CRACK OF DOOM log pile and cliff climb (this will piss you off!)." 

As you can see it is anything but normal trail running. I fell multiple times, as did my teammates. My first leg, which happened to be the start of the race, started out by crossing a creek, running through the muddy marsh with grasses up to your knees, then up a double black diamond ski run... in the mud. At the top was a nice trail, but instead we bushwhacked across about a mile and popped out going down a blue square ski run. Then up a blue square.  Then bushwhack some more, down a black diamond back to a muddy marsh, cross a creek, and then cross back on a bridge, then cross back in the water, and back on a bridge (?). When I finished I think the first words to my teammates were "there was absolutely no point in that run, other than to fall, get lost, and get really dirty. Man was it fun!"

Neil At The Finish Line

The inside of our Chevy Tahoe soon looked like the outside, despite our best efforts to keep it clean. Our team finished in just under 9 hours - 10th overall. My leg is officially shot. I started the event with a strained calf, and now I'm pretty sure I did more damage than just a strain.  As long as it is better by the Pikes Peak Ascent, I'm ok with that. :)

Le Team: Cinco Gringos Locos

Shelley, Me, Dana, John, and Neil

First comes love, then comes marriage (or something like it), then comes a ...

BABY IN THE BABY CARRIAGE!  

After a year and a half of trying on and off, and an equal time of lying to good friends about why she's not drinking and why she's not playing hockey... I am excited to announce Liz is pregnant!!!

She is due October 19.  She's been very nauseated and exhausted for about two months, and as one might expect a bit grouchy because of it.  Understandably so - if I'm sick for two days I'm a nightmare to deal with, I can't imagine two months.  I have all the respect for her in the world for what she's gone through, and she has handled it extremely well. I have nicknamed her "cranky poopy pants" - a term I'm pretty sure she doesn't find endearing but I mean it with the kindness of hearts.  Heehee. 

Luckily she has been feeling better and better every day and soon we can tackle the real stuff... like which room to make the nursery, what child care to consider, and WTF were we thinking when we thought we would make great parents?  :)

What a great adventure life is, and what a great adventure this will be... for the child.  ;)  Growing up with Liz and I as mommies will be quite a roller-coaster ride I'm sure!