Solstice Ramblings

Yay! It is the Solstice! More light is on the way. Being a spoiled Coloradan, our yearly average of three hundred days of sun have conditioned me to need vast amounts of sunlight. Spending what I consider ridiculous amounts of time indoors has robbed me of essential vitamin D, as well as the psychological pick me up of the sun shining in my face. Let the longer days begin!
   Winter has some side benefits. Skiing is pretty darn fun. Snow is good, because that is where much of our water comes from here in the arid west. It also forces me to get up early so I can avoid muddy trails. I've seen a good number of sunrises lately, and sunrises make me happy. The dog digs it too. Winter is harder than other times of year. It just requires more effort. More suffering. Which is beneficial for...Hardrock!
   Yes, Hardrock. For those not already familiar with my Hardrock obsession, check out the website. I was very lucky to get into the race via the lottery, and for the next six months my life will more or less revolve around training for this race. Which really is not as boring as it may sound. It will basically be building up my physical tolerance for my favorite activity, which is running up and down high alpine mountains.  The word training has a negative connotation for many people, so perhaps another word would more accurately describe what I'm doing. Perhaps Anton Krupicka's description is appropriate. Indulgence. Fully overdosing on the wonderful feelings that stem from spending vast amounts of time in the mountains. Getting dirty and letting nature have its way with you, and loving it. Yes, there is a certain desire to finish this race for the sense of accomplishment. For the most part, however, this race is an expression of love. The love I have for the harsh beauty of the San Juan mountains. In that respect I already feel like a winner.

SECOND ANNUAL GRAND CANYON FUN RUN

Heading down the South Kaibab Trail in the morning light

Nate

The bridge over the mighty Colorado

Where do I begin?

Mule train

I spent last Tuesday running the Grand Canyon from the South Rim to the North Rim and back again. I did this same run for the first last year, and this year was equally special. Last year there were, of course, more surprises, but this year still taught me a lot. Last year was more an external experience, by which I mean I was more focused on taking in the sights and sounds of the Canyon. This year was more internal. I was still taking in the beauty and grandeur of the place, but I was more aware of the emotions it stirred. I was more aware of the human impact over the years, how much blasting it took to force parts of those trails through the rocks, the old rusting phone line poles, how different it must have been. Many people think what I did to be difficult, but it would be exponentially harder if that trail was not maintained like a highway.
   It is hard to describe my thoughts during this trip. The distance was far less intimidating this time, but I think it hurt a bit more physically. My calves are still very sore, and my left hip was not cooperating in the final miles. It is always something. Some new obstacle to overcome, some new pain to endure. However it was never bad enough to want to stop. The predominant feeling during this run was that I am lucky. Lucky to have the ability to see this place in this way. Lucky to have discovered ultra running in the first place. The amazing weather, the good friends, Nate having an extra hat after I left mine at the campground, the list goes on and on. The pain I felt seemed distant, because at that moment I didn't want to be anywhere else, or doing anything else, besides running through that Canyon. Like the sign said: "WHY SUFFER?"   

Family Traditions

   I've been backpacking longer than I can remember. It is one of those things I take for granted. Some of my earliest memories are of my Dad taking me to the Sipsey Wilderness (in Alabama) in the fall. As a kid that place was magical. I would be transported back in time to become a Cherokee stalking a deer, or struggling to build a fire with the damp wood. Those experiences undoubtedly shaped who I am today.
   So now that I live in the Rockies, whenever we can find the time,  I get to show my Father the magical places I have to explore in my adopted home. This fall we first went up to altitude and found it too freakin' cold and snowy. So then we headed to the Utah desert for a four day loop of Woodenshoe/Dark/Peavine Canyons. The weather was at times uncomfortable, but it made for some beautiful scenery, and a memorable trip. Thanks Dad.

What's new

Another long pause in the postings. Computer time can be tough on me, and sometimes it just does not happen.  For example, the last month. Which is probably related to the increase in computer time at my job, but I don't want to talk about work here. This is supposed to be my outlet for talk of things I ENJOY. Such as...Running! I actually won a 50k race back in August. The Silverton Alpine 50k. This would be due to the fact that no fast people showed up. I am happy with how hard I pushed for the whole race, and thirty one miles seemed short and fast!
   In non-running news I was lucky enough to catch a few minutes of an amazing four days. Tibetan Buddhist monks constructed a sand mandala here in Durango. An absolutely amazing tradition. For those not familiar, you should read up on it. I watched some of the last bits of the sand being applied, and walked to the river with about a hundred people for the ceremony of dumping the sand into the waters. I found it very moving, and it sparked a renewed interest in my own spiritual path. 
  Right now that spiritual path involves ultra running. The day to day training is the real beauty of this path for me. However, a few times a year it is great to go suffer with like minded souls. A couple weeks ago I ran the Bear 100, and t was the best race experience thus far. Twenty seven hours and twenty three minutes of questioning, suffering, and moving forward no matter what. I don't think I've enjoyed suffering so much since i climbed Aconcagua a few years ago.  The long Autumn night  allowed for many hours of introspection. Although  it never goes exactly the way one might hope for, this race was the closest I've come to the  ideal in my mind.
    Last weekend MK ran her first 50k over in Pagosa Springs at the Devil Mountain race. Her longest training run was eighteen miles, so going to thirty one was a big leap of faith. She suffered well and finished only two minutes over her goal time of eight hours. Yeah baby!

The concentration

The detail

The beauty

The wonder

The impermanence 

The end of this cycle

Coming into the aid station at mile 20

Logan Canyon is a pretty place

I REALLYwanted this one

Satisfaction

Thanks to MK for all of these photos, and for being the best support crew for a grump like me.
On a final note read this http://lvk104.wordpress.com/2010/03/22/shakti-feminine-power-for-change-by-vandana-shiva-via-alternative-radio/  if you can find some time. I'm not sure if this kind of information makes me want to go off the deep end or start a revolution, but it sure makes me think.

Hard Rockin'in the free world

The 2011 Hardrock Hundred was a memorable experience. This is my dream race, the race that got me interested in in ultra running in the first place. I volunteered to be the aid station captain at one of the stations that one must backpack into. I was assigned to a spot called Putnam basin, which is a beautiful spot, at about mile 94 of the course. I knew this aid station, being late in the race, would be open the longest as the runners would be very spread out by then. We hiked all the supplies in on Friday afternoon, with a few of us taking two trips to get everything in. We finally got everything in right around dark, when the first of the storms was rolling in. We prepped a few things, and then tried to get some sleep.
   Our scheduled opening time was around 3:30 am, which was the earliest anticipated arrival based on past times. With the course having so much snow, and being about two miles longer due to a re-route around some rich prick's land in Telluride, we didn't think any course records were in jeopardy. I woke up around one thirty, as I was so paranoid about doing a good job, and being organized when the front runners came through. I drank a bunch of coffee, sliced up some bananas and oranges, and made a few PB&J's. Then I realized I was all wired up and doing too much too soon, and it was likely we would not see a runner for a few hours. Which turned out to be the case. The winner, Julien Chorier, came through about 5:30am, and finished in the third fastest time ever. He didn't even look at us, let alone stop for anything at the aid station. He was a man on a mission. Dakota Jones came through a while later in second. He stopped just long enough to top off his water bottle, said thanks, and he was off. We had radio contact, so we had some idea when to expect the next runners. They were spread out, sometimes by hours, during the morning. I really enjoyed seeing the front runners come through at such a late stage of the race. I had wondered what some of the  best ultra runners looked like 94 miles into one of the most difficult mountain races in the world. Nick Clark looked pretty frickin' tired. Having thrown down at the Western States 100 only two weeks prior, and then coming in third at Hardrock, I suppose he SHOULD look a little beat!
   As the day wore on I realized how lucky I was with the crew that had come together at this aid station. A couple were good friends already, but most were strangers. Everyone was so helpful and attentive to the runners, and I could not imagine a better crew for that time and place.
   The weather at this year's Hardrock was pretty nasty. Lots of hail and rain, along with lightning. Add to that the snow and mud, and it is no wonder only 80 people finished out of 140 starters. Anyone who finishes this race has my deepest respect. Helping runners get through this test was deeply gratifying. I know what it has meant to me to have caring people at aid stations, and it was great to be on the other side. There were so many great moments I can't list them all. So many little things I know mean so much.
   I know now, more than ever, that the Hardrock Hundred is a race like no other. A race that is less about racing others, and more about searching within. Running for a really long way in the mountains doesn't change the world. It does, however, change the people who do it, and they might add a little something to this crazy world. Even if it is just a funny puking story.
  Here are a few views from the course, taken a few days after the race, while puling course markers.

   The beauty of the San Juan mountains is second to none. If anyone out there gets a chance, try to be a part of this special event. Run it, work an aid station, crew or pace a runner, or just spectate and enjoy the views. It will not be soon forgotten.