El Paso Half Marathon

Last weekend my friend Shelley and I traveled to El Paso, TX to participate in the 3rd annual Michelob Ultra El Paso Half Marathon.  Why you ask? Of all places to run 13.1 miles, why El Paso you wonder?  I don't blame you. 

The answer is the Pikes Peak Ascent.  In order to qualify to run the Pikes Peak Ascent in August, you need to have run a half marathon in the past two years under 2:30.  I have not run any half marathons in the past two years, thus I did not qualify. This case was true for Shelley as well. The registration date for Pikes Peak is coming up fast, and the El Paso Half Marathon was the only one within driving distance we could squeeze in.

The "race" was on Sunday, March 1 and we fled Albuquerque at about 3pm on Saturday.  After a 3 1/2 hour drive we navigated "beautiful historic downtown El Paso" to pick up our race packets.  We found our hotel shortly after, which was conveniently only 1/2 mile from the start. We checked in, got issued a room smaller than we reserved, and went in search of dinner at about 7:30pm.  Turns out we were staying about 3 blocks from the border. No matter how we turned - north, south, east, or west - we kept finding ourselves on one way streets that led to border crossings... and talk about a dodgy neighborhood! 

We eventually found food, settled in for the night and before we knew it we were up and ready to head out the door for our wonderful 13.1 miles.  It was frigid outside so we snuck out some hotel blankets and with our version of the serape we headed to the start line.

It should be noted here that I had done nearly the equivalent of zero training for this event.  I'd run a total of 16 times in the past 3 months.  To add to it, I purchased new shoes only 10 days prior to the run. Shelley was in a similar, if not the same, boat.

The gun fired and off we went.  We had no desire to push it or try and run a PR... only to finish under 2:30 and avoid injury.  Wanting to avoid injury kept our pace reasonable and comfortable.  We thumped through downtown El Paso, traversed through UTEP, and out to the river.  When we reached the river we also reached the 8 mile marker which was the turn around for the half marathoners.  We gracefully took the turn, and wham.  I had realized it was gusty during the first 8 miles, and at this point we realized the entire last 5 miles would be directly into a horrendous headwind!  

We ran along the river ducking behind larger men as best we could, and I took notice of the really large rod iron fence we were running beside.  We are talking 12-15 feet tall.  I peered over the edge and saw underneath it the rolls of barbed wire on top of another 10 foot tall chain-link fence. I realized then that we were running along the US/Mexico border (I also realized that I had not bothered to look at the route map - another indication of lack of preparedness). 

We found ourselves back in "beautiful" downtown El Paso at the finish line in 1:56.  Not too shabby for 80% effort and 20% fitness!  We met our two goals of 1) qualifying for Pikes Peak and 2) avoiding injury.  Oddly enough our blankets were where we left them, and we jogged in warmth back to the hotel.  We left as quickly as we came.

For anyone interested below is a map of the race course.  I do not recommend this event.  The scenery is unremarkable, and the water/aid stations were terrible (no water at the last 3 and no food at any of them). However, if you're squirming for a last minute way to qualify for the Pikes Peak Ascent in future years, go for it!  Just look up where to eat and how to get there before you go.  

Stranded in Colorado Springs!!!

How to make life a little more interesting if you're stuck in Colorado Springs:

I've never been good at following directions!

Winter Wonderland

Ahh, winter.  My bikes are officially "up" for the season.  In fact, last time I biked to work it was 28 degrees in the morning when I left my house.  Halfway down the street I vowed it would be the last bike-to-work day until warmer weather.

This year I've committed to learning to ski.  What a lesson in humility.  I'm days short of 32 years old, and nearly everything I do at this point I've been doing long enough to be fairly good at (like snowboarding for instance). So to pick up skiing at first seemed ridiculous - why suck at skiing when I can already snowboard well?  But so far so good, I actually like it! 

Jenny snowboarding and me skiing

So far this year I've skied/boarded Santa Fe a few times, made several trips to Wolf Creek, and boarded Taos for the first time ever.  Next on the list is the front range in Colorado, perhaps Breck or Monarch in the next few days. 

When the snow stinks for skiing, go snowmobiling!

I hope to give my skis and snowboard several more runs this year, and also want to get out for some snowshoeing and cross country skiing.  We'll see - I seem to have eaten up quite a bit of my vacation time already! 

Biking White Mesa

Once again, I thought I had put the mountain bike up for winter hibernation and the sun continued to shine.  When winter will get here and my skis and board will get a chance to come down from the rafters is now beyond me. 

Last weekend Liz and I went to bike White Mesa here in New Mexico.  White Mesa is named for the color of the gypsum that forms much of the mesa and the majority of the bike trails - that much I knew.  The rest I looked up: Gypsum is a white mineral consisting of hydrated calcium sulfate and is commonly used in cement, plaster, and fertilizer. This gypsum formed as a chemical reaction from evaporation of an ancient water body.  So in other words, this area was once covered with water - too bad, I would have rather experienced that!

It was a fun afternoon.  The biking is technical at times, mellow at others, and we took it easy and had a nice day of pedaling around. 

That little dot in the lower left corner is me.

My backside going up a hill

My front side going off one...

Liz coming up.

This may be the longest blog about a bike you'll ever read.

Kahlil Gibran once said, "If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours.  And if they don't, they never were."

Does that apply to bicycles?

Pictured above is a Trek 520, and this 520 has a story.  In the summer of 2000 my mom purchased this bike for me for an adventure across the country.  I would say that I pedaled it from the Pacific Ocean in Washington to the Atlantic Ocean in Maine.  The bike, if it could talk, would say it carried me.  That's just the kind of bike this is.

This bike was not the bike I'd always wanted.  However, for the 4000+ miles of riding while towing a BOB full of gear, it was the clear bike of choice.  The trip was amazing in many ways, but I will spare you the details for those of you who know me (and read this) already know them.  

When we dipped the front tires into the Atlantic Ocean, a symbolic gesture performed by many who ride across the country, I about tossed the bike in the ocean and walked away.  The 520 had done a great job getting me from point A to point B, no doubt, but I was finished with that kind of riding and therefore, done with the bike.  I went off to Arizona to start my work with Mexican wolves, and my mom returned to California and sold the bike.

My mom still had her 520 and rode it at home. My parents were traveling quite a bit in their RV, and my mom decided she wanted a bike to keep in the RV... it was as easy as contacting the gentleman my 520 was sold to, and she purchased the bike back (this would be the second time my mom purchased this bike).  My 520 traveled around in the RV for another year or two, and then that idea fizzled out and my mom sold the bike to my sister's friend.  

Another year or so went by.  My sister's friend was not using the bike much, and once again (the third time) my mom purchased my 520 back.  She was getting into bike mechanics and this bike was to be used as her guinea pig.  Not to mention it could double as a clone, and be used for spare parts for her 520.  

About a year ago I started looking into commuter bikes.  As is the case with most of my bike shopping experiences, I was going overboard.  Buying bikes is something I can get really carried away with.  I was looking at all different models in all different price ranges, but I think I knew from the beginning what I wanted.

I wanted my 520 back.  A bike I had dismissed and nearly tossed in the ocean to rust away, I suddenly wanted back.  She was perfect.  First off, I would be recycling a bike which made me feel good.  Secondly, I had a history with this bike... heck, the bike alone has a history.  And thirdly, the Trek 520 is debatably the best touring bike available and she would make a kick ass commuter.

I bit the bullet and my mom shipped me the bike.  I changed out the drop bars for a more upright commuter type ride (saving the drop bars in case I decide to tour again).  New shifters, new brake levers, new cables, my old rack and a new chain and my 520 was ready to go.  She's nearly perfect and for the first time in our 8+ years of an on and off again relationship, I love this bike.

Perhaps I will not keep her until the end of time, or perhaps my mom will purchase her (would be the fourth time) back from me someday.  Whatever the end result is for this 520 with a story, I hope in the meantime she will carry me on my errands, get me to work and back, and hopefully tow a kid or two when the time comes.  When she is no longer able to roll her tires on the pavement, maybe I will take her back to the Atlantic and set her free.