Weekly Summary: March 15-21

(Green, looking natty with a fresh coat of sparkle this weekend.)

03-15-2010
Mon-AM: 14 miles (2:11) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
        A surprising 4+" of new snow that I was breaking trail 
        through made for a slow climb.
        PM: 7 miles (1:03) Mesa-Skunk Canyon+1mi barefoot
        Ran slow and easy with Jocelyn on exceedingly sloppy 
        trails.  Added on at Kitt at the end. Ran down that dirt
        road behind NOAA and observed that it would make
        for some pretty sweet hill repeats: 266ft in .44 mile
        according to MapMyRun.com.  MapMyRun says Linden's
        are 266ft in .53 mile.

03-16-2010
Tue-AM: 15 miles (2:16) Green Mt. Ranger-Bear Canyon, 3000'
       Pretty tired this morning, but outstanding sunrise.

03-17-2010
Wed-AM: 28 miles (4:10) Green Mt.-Bear Pk-Green Mt., 6500'
        Did the three climbs (2800', 1200', and 2500', respectively) in
       38:50, 26:00 (lots of snow on the ridge), and 35:30.  Just an
       average day energy-wise, but it's been WAY TOO LONG since
       I've had the pleasure of spending a whole morning in the
       mountains, so a pretty exceptional day overall. +65F

03-18-210
Thu-AM: 8 miles (1:02) Skunk-Kitt Loop+4mi barefoot
        Early morning before mid-term with Jocelyn. Nice and easy.
       PM: 14 miles (2:04) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
       A pretty sluggish run, as expected.  Shirtless the entire way,
       so I just enjoyed the sun knowing it would be snowing soon.

03-19-2010
Fri-AM: 14 miles (2:17) Green Mt. up/down Greg-Ranger, 2800'
      Wow. By far the slowest climb of the year (49:15) because I
      was wading through a foot of new powder, laying fresh tracks.
     Incredible morning to be in the mountains. Snowing so hard.
     PM: 6 miles (:46) Boulder Creek Path
     Easy jog in the still-falling snow. Stopped off at the grocery
     store on the way home to pick up some milk and tea.

03-20-2010
Sat-AM: 16 miles (2:28) Green Mt. up Gregory-Flagstaff Road-
      West Ridge; down Ranger-Flagstaff Road, 3000'
      Ridiculous amounts of snow on the mountain today, but brilliant
      sunshine. Bailed onto the road half-way up and then descended
      with Jeff and Brandon. Legs felt really good, but the snow was
      consistently knee-deep and waist deep at times.  Awesome day.
    PM: 7 miles (:55) South Boulder Creek Path

03-21-2010
Sun-AM: 15 miles (2:16) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
       Good trail to the cabin but then lots of unconsolidated snow
       up on the Ranger trail.  Beautiful Spring day.
       PM: 8 miles (:58) Skunk Creek Loop x 2
       Very relaxed jog in the afternoon sunshine. It's great to get
       out and just cruise effortlessly sometimes. Shirtless, flat
       terrain, 7-8min/mile...on runs like this there is a definite
       kinesthetic joy. However, it is also on runs like these that
       I really miss living in Colorado Springs or Flagstaff where
       there are endless opportunities for flattish, dirt runs right
       from downtown.  This entire run was on paved bike paths;
       I've been defaulting to laps on Kitt Field for soft surface
       stuff, but there was a women's lacrosse game this afternoon.
      Not sure why every "trail" in Boulder proper has to be cement.
      Even so, I kicked off my slippers to do the last two miles
      barefoot--even though it was on pavement--because it just
      felt right in the context of the afternoon.

Total
-Miles: 152
-Hours: 21h 41min
-Vertical: 23,700'
2010 Summits (Day 80)
Green: 85
Bear: 2

A few images from running on Green this weekend in the aftermath of Friday's blizzard:
.

(Bear Peak and South Boulder Peak, from Green's west ridge.)

(Breaking trail through knee-deep powder on Green's west ridge.)

(Peeking through to the Indian Peaks.)

(Triumphant on summit #84: look at that blue sky!)

(Green and the backside of the First Flatiron from Flagstaff Road.)

This was a very good week of running.  After a less-than-stellar previous week, I got a simple sacroilliac joint adjustment from Jeremy that dramatically improved my back and allowed me to rebound well.  Of course, I was pleased to complete the mid-week long run, but the challenge will now be to gradually lengthen that over the next month in preparation for Miwok on May 1st.

On Friday I finally got an MRI for my knee.  Jeremy had been recommending this for a while because we've essentially exhausted the conservative treatment measures on my knee, and if, as I build the long run, the knee pain comes back in a significant way, we'll be in a more informed position as to what sort of action we should take.  Basically, he wanted to be sure that there isn't some kind of structural defect (such as a meniscus tear) that would make administering something like a cortisone shot completely pointless.  I'll be getting a report on the MRI early this week, so I'm hoping for good news (i.e. I've only been dealing with stubborn patellar tendonitis, not any cartilage issues) there.

The other thing I'll be considering in my build-up to Miwok is the inclusion of some kind of speedwork.  I haven't decided completely on that yet, as, per usual, it's always much more motivating to head out for a climb up Green Mt. than for a tempo on the Creek Path or intervals on a track somewhere.  Of course, over the past few years Matt Carpenter has chided me repeatedly about not wanting to do the "not fun" stuff in race preparation, and he's mostly right.  The last time I did any significant speedwork was in my build-up for the American River 50 in 2008.  In that case, I completed four straight weeks of one workout per week (the progression of which can be seen here), generally focusing on mile repeats and longer tempo runs.  Granted, even that was a pretty minimal amount of structured fast running.

Logically, I know I should do speedwork to become a better runner.  Emotionally, I am still having a difficult time justifying it to myself.  I remember the confidence it gave me to be able to comfortably cruise low-6s pace for the first 25 miles at  American River two years ago and I know that the increased efficiency and confidence that comes along with that is likely to benefit me in nearly any type of race situation.  However, there is a definite part of me that simply doesn't feel disciplined enough to give up--even for one day a week--the comfort and joy of the mountains.  We'll see what I end up deciding.

Finally, last night I had the pleasure of seeing The Temper Trap at the Fox Theater here in Boulder--a simple five minute bike ride from my house.  These Australians rose to prominence with the inclusion of their song "Sweet Disposition" on the 500 Days of Summer soundtrack last year, and while I was somewhat coerced into going to the show (and a little apprehensive about their at times U2-esque guitar work), the live performance was absolutely top-notch.  Like, making the top three of any show I've ever seen.  I highly recommend seeing them live, but in the meantime, here are a couple videos that don't even really do them justice:

            

Long Run (Finally)

(Bear and Green in the early morning.)

It was time for a test.  The last time I did a four hour run was on December 11th, the day after turning in my final paper for the Fall semester.  It was a Backside Loop with some fairly significant post-holing through Walker Ranch (and some poaching of the excellent Kneale Road going through South Boulder Creek Canyon just behind Eldorado); the post-holing combined with the duration proved to be too much for the knee and two days later I submitted by taking a day off (but, I haven't missed a day since).

After that run I resolved to get this knee figured out by going back to see Jeremy Rodgers (I had wanted to run the Bandera 100K, then the Rocky Raccoon 100, then...well, due to my recalcitrant knee, I finally stopped planning for races) and committing to building back up in an ever-vigilant and gradual fashion.  Ultimately, the desire to temper the length of my runs is what planted the Green Mountain seed in my mind. 

Yesterday, though, after a few weeks with successful runs in the three hour range, I figured it was time for another shot at four hours--the length of run that I, A) start packing a couple gels for fueling purposes, and therefore, B) consider the shortest legitimate "long run".  Not so coincidentally, four hours is also a fairly standard time for a mountain 50K, the shortest of the "ultra" distances.

It didn't hurt that the weather has been spectacular this week, which, of course, being spring-time on the Front Range, means that we're due for a snowstorm now.  But not yesterday.  I started out the run with a singlet and no gloves and would spend the majority of the run shirtless.

(The gist of the route: ~28 miles, 4h10min, three summits, 6500' climbing.)

My route was an arduous one, consisting of three major climbs (and corresponding descents) of 2800', 1200', and 2500' over the course of 17 miles.   This involved summiting Green Mountain, Bear Peak, and then finally returning for another run up the front side of Green before ultimately descending the circuitous old road-bed that would dump me out in Boulder Canyon by the Red Lion Inn and allow me to take the Creek Path back to my doorstep.  Being St. Patrick's Day, I figured Green Mt. deserved multiple ascents.

The first long run of the racing season is always a glorious affair.  For me, it's a time of reawakening old habits and senses, reminding myself what this whole game is all about, and refamiliarizing myself with the vagaries of running all (or, a large portion of the) day in the mountains. 

The mind's ability to anticipate and project expectations into the future plays a large role in undertaking a long run.  Headed up Green Mountain for the first time via Gregory Canyon and the Ranger Trail I was on a path that I've run literally nearly every day since Janurary 1.  However, with the specter of several more hours of running ahead of me, the climb presented itself to me in a different tenor than usual.  I relaxed through the technical and steep sections in Gregory Canyon, paused to don my Microspikes at the stone cabin that signifies the half-way point (but is really a bit short, timewise), and then continued crunching up the hill enjoying the solitude after wading through a crowd of CU students on the lower reaches of the mountain.

(Nasty bit of steep trail in Gregory Canyon.)
.

My legs had only average pep in them on this morning, but due to my prudent pacing and the excitement of the day's endeavor they easily carried me through Ranger's upper switchbacks and then finally, the three-ish minutes that it takes to ascend the Elliott Stairs from the four-way junction.  This section of trail is a wench.  Steep, rocky, and crudely stair-stepped, it often fails to even look like a trail.  However, over the past two and a half months I have become intimately familiar with literally every significant rock and root.  Every footplant is placed exactly as it was the morning before; each tricky sequence is traversed smoothly with a well-rehearsed pattern of push-offs, high-steps, grunts, and puffs.

(Typical "tread" on the Elliott Stairs.)

(The last stretch to the summit of Green...that's the summit rock in the upper left.)

Once atop Green's summit I paused only to quickly climb its pinnacle boulder, for I was planning to be back in a couple of hours. 

(View from Green's summit pedestal: Long's Peak on the extreme right, Indian Peaks to the left of that.)

The descent down the Green-Bear trail to Bear Creek/Canyon was quick and effortless.  Normally, my quads are a little fatigued on this steep downhill (1000' in ~1mi) due to having just ascended Green with significant effort, but on this day things clicked and in less than ten minutes (sounds slow, I know, but one has to try actually running on Boulder's mountain trails before making accurate judgments about pace over this terrain) I was skipping across the creek to start the 1200' climb to the summit of Bear Peak.

Bear Peak's West Ridge trail is maybe my favorite path in all of Boulder's OSMP.  This ribbon of single track winds along the ridge amongst gnarled trees and granite outcroppings all the while gaining altitude without the runner really noticing.  Additionally, the views are superb.  Boulder itself lies down to the northeast at the mouth of Bear Canyon while Eldorado Canyon and Walker Ranch unfold to the south and west.  Although the altitude is only ~7500', the vegetation, exposure, and views give a sense of being much higher.  On today's run, though, this much-less-traveled path offered significant snow and ice to slow my progress and once the route pitched up considerably for the final nine minutes of climbing to Bear's airy apex I was reduced to tiny baby-steps in order to maintain a running cadence.  Bear will do that to you.

On the summit, I enjoyed maybe the best vantage point in Boulder County.  The Indian Peaks and Rocky Mountain National Park dominate the western horizon, Pikes Peak is visible to the south, and when gazing east to the plains the view is so expansive that the curve of the earth almost seems discernible.  I, however, had more running to do.  Fern Canyon is another of those trails that typically causes one to at least curse repeatedly, if not actually tumble head-over-heels downhill.  The few inches of snow last Sunday, though, had reseasoned the surface with a grippy epidermis that received the Microspikes well.  The 2000' descent (in ~1.5 miles!) passed quickly without endangerment to limb.

(Truly essential gear on Boulder's winter trails: Microspikes over NB 100s.)

Once on the iconic Mesa Trail I removed the 'spikes, ate a GU, and enjoyed the fast, open running of the rolling terrain.  I haven't eaten a gel in over three months.  Which might seem like a trivial thing, but yesterday, when I popped that Strawberry-Banana packet, it tasted more like Hope Pass, Leadville, and most of all summer than maltodextrin and synthetic flavoring.

Back at Chautauqua I stopped briefly to refill my water bottle and then set out across the meadow looking to take on Green a second time.  Typically, at this point in a run--2h17min from my doorstep--I'm either done running or on the verge of bonking.  However, today I could feel the power of 100 calories of sugar coursing through the system, so I put the Microspikes back on and tackled the steep Amp/Saddle/Greenman route up Green instead of the more mellow Gregory Canyon option. The less-than-ideal slush/ice conditions combined with the accumulated miles and vertical definitely took their toll and this more or less turned into a get-'er-done survival effort.  Nevertheless, 35min later I was once again atop the summit of Green and looking forward to nothing but heading down Ranger and home. 

(81st Green of the year.  Bear Peak--from whence I just came--is over my left shoulder.)

One hour, 15 minutes and approximately 10 miles later I was back at Scott Carpenter and enduring a well-earned soak in the frigid waters of Boulder Creek.

In the early season, everything is fresh and exciting again.  Even modest gains in fitness are easily noticed and occur with seemingly little effort.  I know (hope?) that eventually a run like this will become commonplace, but most importantly, these runs are essential stepping stones that make even more strenuous outings in the near future possible.  And, after today's (Thursday) 82nd ascent of Green Mountain, I think I can say with confidence that my knee even survived.  Which, given the past year (I first hurt it on Easter of last year), is not trivial at all.

Weekly Summary: March 8-14

03-08-2010

Mon-AM: 1.5 miles (:12) Grocery Store
          Beautiful day, but the back was pissed off.

03-09-2010

Tue-AM: 2 miles (:16) Boulder Creek Path
          Appt with Dr. Rodgers.

03-10-2010

Wed-AM: 3 miles (:24) Boulder Creek Path
         Unprintable curses.  This injury is so stupid because
         it's not even running-related and yet running hurts it.

03-11-2010

Thu-AM: 1.5 miles (:12) Grocery Store

        Pretty discouraging for my back to still hurt.

03-12-2010

Fri-AM: 13 miles (2:01) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'

         Felt terrible.  Ran down with Mike Owen.  Back hurt,
         but I think maybe not any worse than on just a short run.

03-13-2010

Sat-AM: 14 miles (2:07) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'

        Felt terrible.  2 miles barefoot on Kitt at the end. Crazy
        beautiful weather had me shirtless the whole way.
03-14-2010
Sun-AM: 18 miles (2:55) Green Mt. & Bear Peak, 4000'
        Snowing in a foggy cloud up high.  This was a bit of a
        breakthrough with the back.  Just added Bear as a total
        whim.  Finished up at Kitt Field to round out the miles.
       Also, my watch (barometric) read 4400' climbing on this
       loop, but I tend to just count the big (over 500') climbs,
      and on this run there's the 2800' to the top of Green and
      then the 1200' from the valley to the top of Bear.  I guess
      the extra is the rollers on the Mesa trail.  Fern Canyon below
     the saddle was mostly terrifying bullet-proof ice, even with the
     Microspikes, but it would've been impossible without them.
     Trails were gloriously devoid of people after the circus that
     yesterday's weather brought out.

Total
-Miles: 53
-Hours: 8h 07min
-Vertical: 9600'
2010 Boulder Summits (Day 73)
-Green Mt: 77
-Bear Peak: 1

(Bear Peak (left) and Green Mt (right).  Don't worry, there is nowhere near this much snow in Boulder anymore.)

-------------------------------------------------------------

This was a rough week.  It's crazy the effect that running has on my psyche and ability to function in day-to-day life.  I was basically worthless this week, which isn't such a great thing considering the mid-terms I have this week before Spring Break.  Oh well, with the apparent return of my ability to run, I'll rally in the next few days.

Today's run was borderline great.  My back seems to have improved with the increase in running, which is a strange phenomenon that I've experienced with other injuries before, but it always baffles/amazes me whenever that's the case.  I haven't ventured beyond Green Mt. since last October, so it was a real treat today to cruise up on Bear's high west ridge even if all views were completely obscured by dense fog and blowing snow.  I can't say that the back was entirely pain-free, but right now it seems manageable, and hopefully it will just continue to improve over the next week.  Also, the knee was basically 100% pain-free on what was nearly a 3hr run, so that's another good sign. 

This winter I have sort of been stuck in the philosophy that if I was going to be running, especially uphill, then it should be on the trails of Green Mt in pursuit of another summit to add to the tally.  I guess maybe my short hiatus this past week served to adjust that hitch in my thinking and I gladly ran uphill on my second-favorite Boulder mountain this morning: Bear Peak (which typically has the best view from the top, but maybe the poorest footing if ascending/descending Fern Canyon--however, after scouring the Internet, I was able to find the OSMP's Trail Condition Monitoring page and this report shows that "upper Fern" is on the docket for 2010!  Very exciting news if you're a mountain runner in Boulder!  Let's hope they get on that as soon as the snow melts.  Also, I am more than willing to help.). 

As a result of the receding snow (Bear's West Ridge Trail normally doesn't see nearly as consistent of traffic in the winter as the trails on Green Mountain), an improved knee, and me being able to sniff the end of my 100 summits in 100 days quest I'm pretty sure I'll start venturing over to Boulder OSMP's other 8000+' peaks (Bear and South Boulder) more regularly and will keep a tally of those ascents as well.

Other than that, there's not much else to say.  Just gotta stay healthy.  Also, a tight little ballad courtesy of The Walkmen that I've been enjoying lately:

Thinking Too Much

I tend to think about running.  A lot.  (A lot of thinking, that is.  Also, thinking about a lot of running, I guess.)  Curiously, my thinking about running, and what kind of running I'd like to be doing, and where I'd like to be doing it, and on which days of the week, etc. is also basically inversely proportional to my ability/likelihood to actually be doing said running.  That is to say, the more injured I am, the further I intuitively feel from being able to accomplish any running, the more I think about it.  I know, it's pretty sad. 

The most ridiculous thing about this phenomenon is that whenever I'm actually healthy and am able to run basically whatever I'd like to, I tend to just fall into a pretty familiar routine.  Run lots.  Run up mountains.  The details become a whole lot less important to me.

With my back giving me significant (but not complete) pause, my thinking about running has been steadily increasing.  In class, I think about running when I should be more focusedly taking notes.  Outside of class, I am plotting, scheming, and prognosticating when I should have my nose stuck in a textbook.  My academic productivity actually has a directly proportional relationship with the amount I am running.  I mean, shit, I'm writing on this goddamn blog instead of doing my homework, right?

So, what have I been thinking?

(Be forewarned: at this point, this post is about to become even more boring, full of excrutiating minutiae, and generally horifically and repugnantly self-indulgent...the shockingness of which is only surpassed by the embarassing fact that I apparently don't actually care enough to not post it.)

Right now, I am thinking that my running over the past 2+ months has progressed me to a point that it's probably time to start injecting an ever-so-slight amount of structure and planning into it.  I've laid a very sound base of volume and vertical, but it would now (granted health, of course) make sense to begin focusing my efforts a little more specifically to address my desires for the rapidly approaching mountain racing season.

Mostly, this means probably a subtle reduction and re-jiggering of the week-day volume (cutting out those random 2x2hr mid-week sessions) and an increase in the weekend volume.  That's pretty much it.  By doing this, I hope to increase the length of a weekly long run to the 4hr+ range, and eventually start including some back-to-back weekend sessions, body willing.  The counter-point to this will be more focused hillclimb efforts mid-week, probably Tuesday and Thursday.  Of course, I will still allow the energy of my legs to be the ultimate arbiter of whether or not I really nail a climb, but that doesn't mean I can't stack the odds in my favor with some simple planning of effort and volume.

In essence, I will be looking to replicate (down here on the Front Range, at lower altitudes) the training I was doing last summer up in Leadville, which I believe delivered me to the White River 50 and Leadville 100 in the best shape of my life, thus far.  Brass tacks of an actual week from last summer's training log, below:

07-13-2009
Mon-AM: 17 miles (2:25) Hagerman Pass, 2000'
        PM: 5 miles (:41) East Leadville
07-14-2009
Tue-AM: 12 miles (2:26) Mt. Elbert, 4500'
       Halfmoon Creek North Trailhead to summit in 1:15; 2:01
       roundtrip.
      PM: 8 miles (1:05) East Leadville, 1000'
07-15-2009
Wed-AM: 18 miles (2:39) Mosquito Pass, 3000'
         Diamond Mine to top in :38.
        PM: 6 miles (:50) East Leadville
07-16-2009
Thu-AM: 17 miles (2:52) Mt. Massive, 4500'
      Halfmoon Creek South Trailhead to summit in 1:28; 2:28
      roundtrip.
      PM: 5 miles (:44) East Leadville
07-17-2009
Fri-AM: 11 miles (1:30) Turquoise Lake
07-18-2009
Sat-AM: 30 miles (5:01) Aspen Four Passes Loop, 8000'
        Maroon Lake parking lot to parking lot in 4:46:55
07-19-2009
Sun-AM: 25 miles (4:09) Hope Pass Double Crossing, 7000'
       Twin Lakes Fire Station to Winfield and back to TL in 3:39:55
Total
-Miles: 154
-Hours: 24h22min
-Vertical: 30,000'

This was a very standard week for me last summer.  Except for taper weeks and two outliers in the 180s, all of my weekly mileages last summer fell in the 150s, which actually showed mostly unprecedented restraint on my part with regard to overall volume in the build-up for a 100 mile race.

(Don't believe me?  Then let me point you to these ridiculous posts from my preparation for Leadville 2007 and Western States 2008.  150 MPW is child's play compared to that stuff.) 

After this particular week I tapered for five days and ran the White River 50 in Washington.  Which leads me to the next topic I've been thinking about: speedwork.

At White River I was able to break 2:13 marathoner Uli Steidl's (i.e. someone with lots of leg speed) venerable course record despite the race being at relatively low altitude (ranging between 2000' in the valley to 6000+' at the summit of the climbs) and the amount of speedwork I had done in training equaling zippo. 

Outside of races, the fastest I ran all summer was the occasional 6ish minute mile returning on the downhill gravel roads from Mosquito Pass, and other than my Tue/Thu 14er ascents (which I generally conducted at a perceived effort that would probably best be described as somewhere between "tempo" and "good-gawd-my-lungs-are-going-to-explode"; I tried to keep things from really getting dire until I was above 14,000', though) I never even really ran at an effort level that could have been considered anything higher than "moderate".

(Mustering some speed at the finish of White River last summer. Photo: John Wallace III)

I guess this just means that, especially when one's goal races are in the 6-16hr range of duration, Mr. Lydiard's most essential assertion that the majority of fitness comes from maximal aerobic development must contain some significant truth.  Lucky for me, this type of long, generally moderately-efforted running is the very kind that I enjoy most.

So, other than the odd road race, I think I'll mostly continue to forgo the structured "speed" component of training (well, at least that's what I think right now).  It's tough for me to argue with what has led to success for me in the past.  Additionally, at least until the snow melts up high, I'll also be substituting charging up a 14er on Tuesdays and Thursdays with double-lap efforts on Green Mt (in order to achieve similar amounts of vertical gain and descent).  Eventually, I hope to make it up to Mt. Audubon (13,2xx') and Grays/Torreys (14ers) on a regular basis.

(A recent view of Audubon from the summit of Green Mt.  Audubon looms on the horizon directly in the center of the photo.)

Hopefully, all of this will be as free-of-injury and fantastically fun as I envision it being right now, sitting here at this desk, icing my back, stealing more-than-occasional glances out the window to Green Mt. and Bear Peak.

Weekly Summary: March 1-7

A look back at the week:

03-01-2010

Mon-AM: 14 miles (2:05) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
              1" of fresh snow on the trail.
03-02-2010
Tue-AM: 15 miles (2:08) Green Mt. Ranger-Bear Canyon, 3000'
             5am start afforded me an incredible moon-set.
03-03-2010
Wed-AM: 14 miles (2:04) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
             Spring is here!  Beautiful morning.
        PM: 14 miles (2:00) Green Mt. up/down Amp/SR/G'man, 2800'
            32:49 for the climb and then 2.5 miles of barefoot on
           Kitt Field in the sublime evening air. Ran with Jeff. Low back
           hurt on the downhill from when I fell earlier in the week.
03-04-2010
Thu-AM: 14 miles (2:07) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
             Tired, but felt better after the run than before.
       PM: 13 miles (2:00) Green Mt. up & down Amp/SR/Gman, 2800'
            Easy effort 34:45 climb on tired legs in slow, punchy snow 
           conditions. Tacked on a mile barefoot at the end.  Back hurt.
03-05-2010
Fri-AM: 13 miles (2:06) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
          Hmmm...disconcerting.  Back/butt really sore by the end.
03-06-2010
Sat-AM: 4 miles (:32) Kittredge Fields
         Knew the night before that my back wasn't going to allow
         any real running today, so, despite the 60F+ temps I just
        jogged barefoot.  Back sore by the end.
03-07-2010
Sun-AM: 1 mile (:10) Boulder Creek Path
        Back no worse than yesterday, but definitely still an issue.
Total
-Miles: 102
-Hours: 15h12min
-Vertical: 19,800'
Green Mt.: 74 summits over 66 days

(#72)

Kind of a blah week.  It started off busy with a bunch of schoolwork and then I had a bad fall that has--as I feared--proven to be a pretty substantial issue.  I was coming back from my early morning run and turned left off Baseline onto 10th Street, heading downhill.  I like to run down Cascade Ave, parallel to Baseline, because it has way less traffic.  Anyways, I stepped on some black ice on the corner of 10th and Cascade, my feet instantly shot out from underneath me and I fell really really hard with all of my weight landing directly on the just-off-center bump on my extreme lower back that I think is created by the protuberance of the right side of the sacroilliac joint.

It was kind of scary as it felt like my entire body went numb for a couple seconds, but after just lying there in the middle of the street for a few moments I got up, walked it off, and gingerly finished the run.  However, over the course of the week it's progressively gotten worse until by the end of the week it was seriously affecting my ability to run and even walk.  I'm hoping that a simple chiropractic adjustment (and maybe a little time) will make it all better, but right now the sciatic nerve is acting pretty upset.  

I'm pretty frustrated that this is in no way an overuse injury, but has seemed to become subsequently worse with running.  Also, the knee is feeling great and I was planning on testing it further this weekend with a 3-4hr run in the beautiful weather on Saturday, but that obviously didn't happen.  We'll see.  Before the weekend I was +10 on the 100 summits in 100 days timeline, so I fortunately have a decent cushion there and can accommodate missing a few Green ascents right now.  Unfortunately, it's not always so easy to mentally accommodate the absence of a daily mountain summit, but I'm committed to being smart about this bump and will give it the time it needs to heal.

70 and 71

(Starting to shed her winter coat.)

First, I thought I'd cross-post this interview I recently did over at Endurance Planet.  Due to the casual, informal, over-the-phone format I tended to ramble a little; my bit starts at around the 22min mark.

I made it to the top of Green twice today.  By and large, winter is over here in Boulder, CO.  Sure, we will most certainly be graced with (probably several) more snowstorms, but something tells me that they will mostly be of the melt-within-the-next-48hrs variety.  Which is fine with me.  I'm ready for some hot weather.

This afternoon's run involved running hard up the steep frontside of Green.  I started running from my doorstep and joined Jeff at Gregory Canyon where he led me up the Amphitheater trail.  Despite the warm temps, much of this route stays in the shade bascially all day, so what would otherwise be an infuriatingly slippery surface proved to be an exceptionally efficient recipient for the 3/8" cleats on our Microspikes.  I can't believe I waited until January to pick up a pair of those suckers. 

Inspired by the great weather and the favorable trail conditions I moved ahead at the Saddle Rock trail junction and cruised up the gradient with increased intensity, looking to push the edge a bit and make things hurt.  Well, I certainly found some of that.  I guess my legs weren't feeling quite as great as I'd hoped, so I ended up with a 32:49 ascent, 30 seconds off of my PR.

After running down the mountain with Jeff I scurried down to Kittredge Field by the Law School and indulged in two and a half miles of glorious barefootin' on the artificial turf there.  The entire time I was encircling students playing football, frisbee, soccer, and lacrosse, everyone just out in the evening twilight enjoying the still-warm air in the shadows of the Flatirons.  I even got in some shirtlessness for the first time this year.

After days like today, I can't wait for summer and the ambiance evoked by a tune like this (probably the closest to a jam band-y type thing you'll ever see me advocate):

Weekly Summary (Feb 22-28) and February in Review

First, here's the past week:

----------------------------------------------------------------------

02-22-2010

Mon-AM: 15 miles (2:17) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
               Ridiculously beautiful, clear morning.  2" new snow.
        PM: 13 miles (2:00) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
              Legs felt great but snow kept things slow and easy.
02-23-2010
Tue-AM: 14 miles (2:10) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
                Legs feeling great; trail slowly setting up nicely.
02-24-2010
Wed-AM: 14 miles (2:05) Green Mt. Ranger-Amp+2nd Flatiron, 3000'
               Felt awesome. Post-holed up to the 1st Flatiron 
               on the descent.
        PM: 14 miles (2:05) Green Mt. Amp-Greenman, 2800'
               Unexpectedly slow trail conditions led to a relaxed 35:50
               climb, when I'd planned to tempo it.  Tacked on 10x20sec 
               strides during 2mi of barefoot at Kitt field.
02-25-2010
Thu-AM: 14 miles (2:01) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
              Got out at 5am before early meeting.  Took it easy.  
              Fell really hard on the icy streets on the way home.
02-26-2010
Fri-AM: 18 miles (3:00) 2 x Green Mt. up Amp, 5300'
             Easy 37:25 and 37:15 in 2-3" of fresh, slow snow.
02-27-2010
Sat-AM: 14 miles (2:06) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
             Great trail conditions. Encountered a posse of 
             Pearl Izumi friends.
      PM: 14 miles (2:02) Green Mt. up Amp down Greenman, 2800'
             33:14 for the climb up the front . Legs didn't really have it, 
             but good effort.
02-28-2010
Sun-AM: 15 miles (2:13) Green Mt. Ranger-Bear Canyon, 3000'
             Tired, but trail was in great shape and I love this loop.
Total
-Miles: 145
-Hours: 21h 59min
-Vertical: 30,700'
Green Summits: 67 (over 59 days)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
And now for a little look back at the past month, starting with the numbers.
February Summary:
-Miles: 501
-Hours: 75h 33min
-Vertical: 101,300'

2010 Totals:
-Miles: 989
-Hours:147h 23min
-Vertical: 192,800'

February was an excellent month.  The second week was a bit shaky with only 88 miles and nothing but the minimum obligatory single summit of Green every day.  My knee was acting up a bit, but strangely it never really hurt when I was running, only while doing the mundane activities of daily life: walking up and down stairs, riding my bike to class or the grocery store, etc.  So, I kept it conservative that week and it paid off very well as the last two weeks have been excellent both in their consistent vertical and volume and in the general happiness of the knee.

I spent most of February getting once-a-week one-hr acupuncture sessions with Allison Suddard, as referred by Jeremy Rodgers.  This was the first time that I've ever had any sort of acupuncture treatment (what Jeremy would refer to as "dry-needling vascularization" and Allison would call "trigger point therapy"), so I was curious as to what a treatment session would involve and whether or not it would have any positive effect on my knee.

After the first session, my right leg was incredibly sore.  Like, I was limping out of the office.  I'd always seen pictures of acupuncture where there were several needles poking out of someone's body and I would think to myself, How can that not hurt?  Well, I got my answer this first session, in that--at least for the kind of Trigger Point therapy that Allison was performing--it simply hurts a lot.  It's a weird kind of hurt, though, almost like a dull ache or numbness sometimes accompanied by what felt like almost an electrical shock when the muscle would occasionally "twitch" (not pleasant) under Allison's manipulation.

Despite the general discomfort of the treatment, my knee didn't really seem to be getting worse, so I kept going back for all four prescribed sessions even though there didn't really seem to be any improvement in my knee, either.  Mostly, it was just nice to be doing something proactive on a regular basis to improve the condition of the knee.  However, in this last week of February there has definitely been some significant improvement in my knee.  The first that I've seen in these first two months of the year.  So, I'm fairly convinced the acupuncture did something worthwhile, especially since Jeremy had said that the effects (if there would be any) would take a number of weeks to show up.

I am very happy to have continued this month with the consistency that I was able to achieve in January. It seems like I've reached a level of sustainable running that is building strength but isn't precariously riding the line that separates fitness and injury.  I'm not training at my maximum amount, which is something I would too often do (basically, whenever possible) in the past.  Right now, my goal races are still two and four months away, so I need to be able to maintain this sort of volume and intensity for that much longer.

Despite the consistency of the past two months, I haven't raced even once since Leadville last August.  As a result, in looking ahead to March, I hope that my knee continues to improve and that it allows me to complete a couple of intermediate races and/or adventure runs.  A trail 50K or a double-crossing of the Grand Canyon over Spring Break would be very exciting for me.  We shall see.

And now, for this week's selection of auditory pleasure.  The Cold War Kids have so many excellent songs from previous albums, but this is off their very recently released EP Behave Yourself, so I thought it most relevant and appropriate:

Of Running and Biogeochemical Cycling

(The frosty visage of my muse, from my apartment.)

Early Wednesday afternoon I snuck out the door in between extensive sessions of reading peer-reviewed environmental research.  I was earnestly attempting, but only marginally succeeding, to assimilate the methods and findings presented in Regulation of the nitrogen biogeochemistry of mountain lakes by subsidies of terrestrial dissolved organic matter and the implications for climate studies (Bunting et al., 2010).  Right.  Clearly, it was time to re-immerse myself in a medium in which I feel a little more adept, even proficient: the snowy slopes of Green Mountain.  

After the day's second summit helped get my head straight, though, it was back to the books for more feelings of significantly befuddled inadequacy, courtesy of Nanus et al. 2008 (Evaluating regional patterns in nitrate sources to watersheds in National Parks of the Rocky Mountains using nitrate isotopes).  However, during subsequent episodes on the trails I can't have helped but draw some parallels between alpine environment nutrient cycling and certain behaviors in my running.

One of the more important concepts to consider when studying the carbon (C) and nitrogen (N) cycles--particularly in light of an objectively changing climate and increasing mean global temperatures--is that of feedback loops.  Some feedback loops are negative and some are positive.  When a feedback is negative, the system tends to equilibrate itself and become stable, which is most often the case.  However, when a biogeochemical process operates as a positive feedback, the system responds by magnifying the amplitude of a given input or perturbation and can quickly result in a runaway situation, i.e. the amplitude of the system increases exponentially.

As a result, this decided instability means any scientist is usually quite interested in identifying any positive feedback loops in a given system.  One such example of a hypothesized positive feedback is that of a loop involving atmospheric carbon dioxide (CO2),  CO2 sequestered in permafrost, and increasing global temperatures.  The thinking goes: warmer annual temperatures melt permafrost at high latitudes, which releases CO2 into the atmosphere from the now unfrozen organic material, which new atmospheric CO2 then contributes to further increasing temperatures, and so on and so forth.

(As an aside, over the past months I have been summarily impressed with the apparent level-headedness that seems to prevail at many of Boulder/CU's prominent scientific institutions---the Institute for Arctic and Alpine Research, the National Snow and Ice Data Center, NCAR, NOAA etc---with regards to the typically hot-button issue of climate change.  I have heard a certain director, on more than one occasion, opine that they think Al Gore does more to hurt climate change science than to help it because he habitually overstates and hyperbolizes the case.  Climate Research Unit (CRU) hacking incident and resulting scandal aside, I am very confident in the fact that there are lots and lots of dedicated climate scientists doing unbiased and extremely ethical work.)

Over the last few weeks, it seems as if my running has been under the influence of a similar positive feedback loop.  It feels as if the consistent, reasonable workload of not having missed a day of running no less than two hours (let alone a Green Mt. summit) for the past two months has gradually helped to steel my body against injury.  The longer I can go without injury and maintain such a routine, the stronger my body's various relevant musculoskeletal structures become, which means I can continue to be consistent, which means my body gets stronger, which means strength and fitness improves and chance for injury decreases, and on and on.  The metaphorical snowball rolling down a hill.

However, I am not so sure that this is necessarily a true positive feedback situation where the amplitude of the output will necessarily progress in a runaway fashion.  That is, by very gradually increasing my mileage and ultimately limiting it to a level that is less than maximal, I feel as if I've been able to reap the benefits of a positive feedback loop while enforcing the stability of a negative feedback system.

(Summits #63 and #64 this morning.  It was gloriously bright.)

That, and acupuncture appears to not be a ruse, after all.  This morning I set out to challenge my knee with a test that a month (and four acupuncture sessions from Allison Suddard) ago it failed: two consecutive laps on Green Mountain.  The 2-3" of freshly fallen snow on the trails slowed my progress up Green's steep front side more than I would've liked (inefficient 37min ascents rather than the sprightly 35s I'd envisioned on a tacky, packed trail), but the most important fact was that I had zero knee pain on neither descents of Gregory Canyon nor on the 25 minutes of pavement I ran on the way back to my apartment to round out the three-hours and 5300'-of-vertical.

(Greenman trail: ~1mi and ~1000' vertical to go.)

(Lots of snow up there right now...typical trail conditions.)

By continuing to induce a little stability into my regimen, maybe I can be back racing a little sooner than I'd planned.

Weekly Summary: February 15-21

Some more fleshed-out details of my training is something that I've had a few requests for, so I thought I'd give it a shot this week, but I'm not sure whether I'll make it a regular deal.  I record my training in detail in other (more private) places, but ever since I've been a runner I've been interested in the specifics of other runner's training, so since there is an expressed interest in mine I feel a little compelled to oblige that interest.

Having said that, I find writing and reading these posts to be pretty dull.  The sheer nuts and bolts of a training regimen just aren't that interesting when put down in black and white.  Successful performances in distance running typically come as the result of an enormous back-log of surprisingly unvarying, unexciting (to the non-actor, at least) repetition and that is especially true of my training so far in 2010.  No secrets will be divulged here because there are none to reveal.  Enjoy your running, believe in it, do it consistently, and it will usually work.  (Ah, but that usually is what confounds everything...)

Finally, in the interest of spicing up what are sure to be otherwise exceedingly dreary posts I will probably entertain myself by also posting a song (of a hopefully live performance) that I find to be particularly compelling (but not necessarily entirely cutting edge or completely contemporaneous...I'm not a full-on hipster) that particular week.  If it helps turn someone else on to a band that I find to be especially awesome, great.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
02-15-2010
Mon-AM: 14 miles (2:04) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
         PM: 14 miles (2:02) Green Mt. up Amp-down Ranger, 2800'
                32:19 PR up the frontside (6:45, 12:35, 18:40, 29:40)
02-16-2010
Tue-AM: 14 miles (2:10) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
                 Predictably tired after yesterday evening.
02-17-2010
Wed-AM: 14 miles (2:09) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
                 50th summit--ran down with Jocelyn.
         PM: 14 miles (2:00) Green Mt. Amp-Greenman, 2800'
                 32:49 for the climb up the frontside. 14min barefoot.
02-18-2010
Thu-AM: 14 miles (2:09) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
                A good bit tired again...hmm...a pattern? 7min barefoot.
02-19-2010
Fri-AM: 14 miles (2:11) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
               4" fresh snow slowed things considerably
      PM: 13 miles (2:10) Green Mt. Ranger-Greenman, 2800'
              With Jocelyn at 6:30pm, so the whole run was in the dark.
02-20-2010
Sat-AM: 15 miles (2:15) Green Mt. Ranger-Bear Canyon, 3000'
               With Dan K.  2" fresh snow and snowing the whole way.
02-21-2010
Sun-AM: 17 miles (2:33) Green Mt. Ranger-Bear Canyon+, 3000'
               ~6" fresh powder on the trail slowed things way down.
Total
-Miles:  143
-Hours:  21h 43min
-Vertical:  28,400'
-Green Mt: 56 summits (after 52 days) 

This has been an extremely heartening week.  The previous week I had to be cautious because the knee seemed to have a tiny relapse and I was a little gun-shy (run-shy?) as a result, content to just get in the default 2 hr Green ascent every day.  However, this week I struck upon the seemingly newly-sustainable plan of doing a Double Green every-other-day and it has worked out very nicely.  So, this was a big week in the statistical categories.  Right now I am very content with the privilege to make it up into the mountains so consistently, so I don't really have a lot to complain about.

This morning I tentatively tested out my knee with a run that was significantly over 2 hr in duration by tacking on a couple extra miles on the Creek Path at the end of the run.  Sitting here right now it seemed to have gone pretty much fine--past experience informs me, however, that I won't really know how the knee has truly reacted until my run tomorrow.  A few images from this morning's outing:

(Monochromatic views of the Flatirons for the fourth day in a row, striding up to the Gregory Canyon trailhead.)

(Standing in a cloud on summit #56.)

(Exquisite view while exiting the mouth of Bear Canyon.)

(Despite the good week of running, this weather makes me long for the days when The Roost was my apartment and it was warm enough to be sans shirt: night-before-LT100-logistics-prep at my secret campsite, August 2009.)

Finally, I've been enjoying these fellas for quite a while now, so here's some shameless pop pleasure to get your head boppin' for the next week:

Half-way There

Yesterday morning was my 50th ascent of Green Mountain in the last 48 days, which makes me half-way to my objective of completing 100 ascents in the first 100 days of the year.  It was pretty much like any of the other 48 past mornings, except that on this morning Jocelyn joined me.  She left the apartment in her car to drive to the Gregory Canyon trailhead while I opted for my usual mode of transportation there: my two feet.  This, however, gave her a 10-15 minute head start on me and allowed us to coincide our time of summitting.

(Jocelyn's first summit of Green Mountain this year.)

(My 50th.)

After snapping a couple of pictures, we then ran down the Greenman and Gregory trails together.  Jocelyn was pretty impressed with the performance of her new Microspikes.  Back at the trailhead, she headed off to class and I scampered home to complete my usual two-hour outing.

(Jocelyn sure-footedly descending the upper Greenman trail.)

After a mid-day acupuncture session, I got out again in the afternoon before my evening Watershed Biogeochemistry class, opting for the more challenging front side (Amphitheater-Greenman).  Allison's hour-long brutalization of my left hamstring and right vastus medialis obliquus (VMO) had left me fairly sore but didn't seem to have much of a slowing effect on the subsequent 32:49 climb to my 51st summit.  From the top of the surprisingly warm peak I had a great view of the ominous, somewhat sickening, temperature inversion-induced Brown Cloud of the Denver/I-25 corridor (that I subsequently, coincidentally, learned the atmospheric chemistry of in class last night).

(Why I am so annoyingly insistent upon not driving to the trailhead.)

I rounded out the two hours with a couple miles of barefoot striding around Kittredge Fields by the CU Law School where I had the pleasure of meeting and running with Austin Baillie, fresh off an impressive 1:04 half marathon performance last month in Houston.  Nothing like a little reality check as to where I truly stand in the pecking order of the distance running universe.  (Interestingly, though, Austin had plenty of respect for ultras, having paced at both Leadville and Hardrock.)  Nevertheless, I hope the next seven weeks of Green baggin' continue to go at least as smoothly as the first seven have.

Up

I fell down three times on my run this morning.  Stepping out the door in the pre-dawn darkness I knew it was one of those days.  A day where a curb presents an obstacle and the legs simply won't lift.  This morning was my 49th ascent of Green Mountain in the past 47 days, and I could feel it.

My first tumble came while scampering off of Green's summit rock.  It involves a simple, typically ungraceful but usually uneventful maneuver that I've become quite familiar with over the past seven weeks.  A curiously weathered cavity in the large chunk of Fountain formation sandstone conglomerate provides the most obvious route on and off the summit, and for the majority of the winter this has been at least partially filled with grippy packed snow and ice.  My without-style method of down-climbing is to sort of crab-walk/controlled-fall down the face stabbing the non-rock material with my trusty Microspikes and depositing myself safely back on flat ground.  Today, the usually much grippier landing spot failed to provide my 'spikes with any purchase and the next thing I knew I was lying on my left side checking to make sure I hadn't broken an arm.  Fall number one.

The second incident was one of those situations that I occasionally think about as being very bad if it actually occurred, but it simply usually doesn't.  With maybe five minutes of path remaining before being deposited back at the trailhead parking lot, the Gregory Canyon trail crosses the drainage on a decidedly over-constructed wooden footbridge.  Directly above this bridge are a pair of extremely short but steep switchbacks littered with the usual rock and ice.  Most mornings I skitter down this mindlessly, often grabbing a handy branch to swing/steady myself around the final switchback.  This morning, however, I caught a toe and plummeted headfirst downtrail.  Despite several large rocks being there to break my fall I regained my feet with no real issues other than a slightly tweaked hamstring.  No biggie, it's felt that way for almost four years now.

(The results of a summer-time digger.)

The final fall occurred on the corner of 10th and University.  Every single morning I subtract maybe two yards of running from my journey by shamelessly shaving the sidewalk corner with a quick step through the college students' house's front yard, often stepping over empty beer bottles and cans.  There is also, however, a very significant tree root on this path that every other morning I have very consciously stepped completely over.  This morning, the legs just weren't having it, though, and a split second later I was sprawled on the sidewalk hoping that I hadn't torn any holes in my tights.  That one really yanked the hamstring and I had to walk a half-block or so massaging it out before I could resume my stumble home.

My fatigue this morning was no surprise.  Yesterday I doubled up on my visits to Green's summit, and the afternoon ascent was a particularly notable effort.

Runners often ask me what sort of speedwork I incorporate into my weekly training routine, and I usually have to--somewhat sheepishly--explain that I don't tend to do anything resembling a structured "speed" workout.  I mostly gave those up when I graduated from college, and I don't regret it.  Instead, even when I'm not in the explicit pursuit of some sort of silly summit streak as I am now, my bouts of increased-effort-running occur much more intuitively.  By feel.  Only when the body is saying, Let's Go!  As it turns out, this still happens at least once or twice a week--about as often as it would if I were to schedule it--but I never force it.  If, when I get to the hill, my legs feel like going, I let them.  If that happens two days in a row, I let it.  And if it doesn't happen again for another week, or even two weeks, I don't worry.

Approached in this manner, hard running is never a chore and almost always on the emotional spectrum in the vicinity of "pleasurable".  It embodies that most primal of activities: simply charging through the woods at your personal apogee of effort until there are no more woods to charge through because you've reached the top. 

(Dave Mackey, Rickey Gates, and Jeff Valliere getting primal on the Amphitheater trail in May 2009, with Rickey running the FKT. Photo: George Zack)

When conducted as part of a run to the summit of a mountain, though, it is certainly not fast.  My route yesterday involved tackling Green on arguably its most arduous, official terms (there are other unofficial routes up Green that are even more sustainedly steep): the combination of the Amphitheater, Saddle Rock, and Greenman trails.  This ascent is just a little over two miles in length but gains ~2500' from trailhead to summit.  Considering that there is one somewhat extended flattish section about half-way up, suffice it to say that there are many other stretches that could only be described as damn steep.  (With a section on Amphitheater in the 40% range, I believe.) 

Without these qualifiers yesterday's ascent time of 32:19 (for two miles!) would appear laughably slow, but after a little research, it would seem that only one, maybe two people are known to have broken 30 minutes on this route (one of those being Rickey Gates, whose preternatural ability to run fast up big hills is inarguable, and nearly unassailable by anyone else in the country), so I'm fairly pleased.  For now.  Considering the snow.  Because even with this morning's falls, my fitness appears to be moving in the direction of up.

If only my knee would allow me to start logging some true long runs.

At Dusk

For many years now, I have generally been of the get-out-and-run-in-the-morning-before-I-do-anything-else-today-because-it's-the-most-important-thing persuasion.  This is not to say that I don't log many a two-a-day session, it's just that my second run of the day is typically shorter, easier, and flatter than the morning outing.  Less serious.  More flexible.  Often barefoot.  Additionally, my body tends to feel better in the morning--the stomach is empty, the mental pressures and fatigue of the day have yet to accumulate, and afterall, all I've been doing for the past several hours is sleeping, so I generally have a surfeit of energy.

In college, logging the main workout of the day during the afternoon practice (~4PM, after a 5-8 mile jaunt before class that morning, of course) was a constant source of annoyance for me.  Without fail, the campus dining hall's food wreaked havoc with my intestines, so an otherwise idyllic autumnal session of, say, 24x400m on grass or 5xmile in the park was regularly rendered nearly unendurable thanks to undue gastrointestinal distress.

Conversely, many of my teammates hated running in the morning and thought I was borderline deranged for voicing my opinion that an interval session might be better performed at 7 or 8AM.  My fifth year at Colorado College (I headed back to slam through the entire Geology major in a single year), my good friend (and far more talented teammate: five-time All-American with 5K/10K PRs and school records of 14:30 and 30:43) Julian Boggs christened me his live-in guru for rousting him from sleep every morning at 6:40AM to log a brisk hour's cruise through the no-man's-land of social single-tracks and cacti-covered hills on the west side of I-25 that we referred to as The Mesas.  (Springs locals might know this better as Sonderman Park, but that apparent jurisdiction encompasses less than half of the open terrain we explored over there.)  Of course, this sort of accountability was only natural as Julian had been so accommodating (ridiculously so, in retrospect) as to allow me to take up residence under his half-lofted bed in his tiny (we're talking no more than 150 square feet here) single-person dorm room that semester.

This past week I rediscovered both the joys and dreads of doing substantial running later in the day.  On both Friday and Saturday evenings--after already logging my usual 2hr sojourn to the top of Green Mt and back in the morning--I got out again for a couple bonus Green summits.

These runs were shocking in their dialectic nature.

Striding away from my doorstep with an eye on the sun disappearing behind the Flatirons and a headlamp wrapped around my wrist I felt a curious pep in my stride that is hardly ever present in the pre-dawn darkness.  This sensation was always Julian's main argument for running in the afternoon--your body is fully awake and ready for action; the attendant incoordination of early morning miles is either completely skipped or compressed handily into a few quick steps.  When I arrived at the mouth of Gregory Canyon to begin the climb up Green my legs seemed to have super-powers.  I floated over big step-ups and skipped through technical terrain that I've become accustomed to zapping my energy.  My respiration rate indicated what should've been a high level of effort but none of this was borne out by any legitimate sensations of fatigue in my legs.  Everything was so easy.

This is the hidden aspect of mountain running that hikers or even road/track runners can never understand and will never know about.  It is the ineffable secret of those who have diligently paid their dues and over time become intimate confidants with a landscape that, to many, typically only represents an obstacle to be conquered.  Why, the hikers will ask, do you run these beautiful trails?  Aren't you afraid of missing the views, the scenery?  The road runners will claim, I don't want to sprain an ankle, scrape a knee, or thrash about at 12 minute pace when I can cruise the black-top hitting six minute miles with a perfect rhythm.

The answer, of course, is that, for me at least, the sheer felt kinesthetic sensation of a stretch of well-run trail unquestionably trumps the quality of any of those other experiences.  When things are going well-- when they're clicking on that unconscious, unforceable, primal plane of existence where every fiber is preternaturally aligned to the task of effortlessly traversing ground--there is a sense of everything being in its exact right place, right here, right now.  It's as if I am the leading star in my own life and at that moment I'm absolutely nailing the role.  To me, that type of experience is unassailable in its value.  And it doesn't happen while hiking.  Or fighting cars for a section of pavement.  It seems to require rocks, roots, and a significant gradient.

On Friday night, despite considerable darkness on the upper reaches of the Ranger trail that assuredly slowed my pace, I effortlessly PRed on the climb by a full two minutes.  There can be no more fitting place to celebrate a new best performance than from a mountaintop, at night.  Nearly 3000' below my feet, Boulder's lights glittered and glowed, casting light seemingly all the way to my position on the summit.  The swath of open space surrounding town presented itself in stark contrast as a lightless, dark band encompassing the city.

Alas, the downhill is where the duality of these night runs kicks in for me, i.e. there is a not-so-subtle shift in mood.  First, it's tough to run down technical trails in the dark--I don't care how bright the headlamp is.  Or maybe, my headlamp just isn't bright enough.

Second, downhills have a unique tendency to, um, shake things loose.  Suffice it say that, A) my two night runs this past week reaffirmed my belief in there being something profoundly amiss with my guts.  Things haven't been this wrong since Leadville.  And, B) when severe gastrointestinal issues strike, the true casualty in the situation is one's sense of self-dignity.  Early on, the effect is merely like that of an ominously rising river lapping at its banks:  no significant threshold is breached but the erosional effects cannot be denied.  Not so gradually, though, the water's destructive powers are realized and before you know it a full-on battle is raging, the result of which leaves your pride completely eviscerated and tattered somewhere back on the side of the trail.

In such a desperate, degraded, and depraved state any bush, any shadow, any shrub becomes fair game.  In my (most unfortunate) case, neither alleyways, baseball fields, nor fallow flower beds were left unscathed.  It was as if the euphoria of the first half of these runs had to be necessarily balanced with equally traumatic and depressing second halves.  Oh well, gotta keep things on an even keel, I guess.  Remain humble.

Thankfully, in retrospect, (and after a shower and when I'm someplace where toilet paper is readily available) I think the positives outweigh the negatives (if only barely), and I hope to continue to incorporate these night runs into the weekly routine.

January In Review

January has been a relatively good month with regards to my running.  By the sheer numbers:

488 miles
71h 50min
91,500' of vertical
31 summits of Green Mountain
0 days off

Which means that it's objectively been my best January since 2007 when I was training like a banshee in preparation for the Rocky Raccoon 100.  Just to prove that I've wisened up a little in terms of the volume I put in these days, here are the numbers from January 2007: 751 miles, 106h 38min, 36,500' of vertical, and three days off.

January's 2008 and 2009 were both affected pretty heavily by nagging lower leg injuries, so I ended up missing quite a few days. (And, the Rocky Raccoon 100 both years, too.  As I will this year, unfortunately.  Ever since coming within 16min of the course record three years ago during a very poorly-paced race I've been jonesing to get back there and run the race I know I'm capable of.  I would rate the 13:32 I ran at Rocky in 2007 as being on par with roughly 17:00 at a non-short (i.e., non-2009) Leadville.)

In addition to the more moderate mileage, it seems I've compensated for this a bit by hitting a whole lot more vertical climbing this year than when I was training in Colorado Springs.  During that January of 2007 a very typical day for me would have been a 2hr run in the Garden of the Gods in the morning and then another 2hr run over similar terrain in the evening.  I would count a run like this as having zero vertical feet climbed even though, as a result of the rolling terrain, I would probably get close to 1000' on a 2hr run like that.  I tend to not really count climbs that are less than 500' in one shot.

Whereas encountering significant vertical when embarking from the downtown Colorado Springs area used to generally require nearly a three hour run, living and running in Boulder has meant that I can run up a mountain and back from my doorstep in two hours or less (thus, the marked increase in vertical gain this month as compared to 2007).  While I don't yet know what kind of effect this will have on racing results, I do know that it more similarly reflects what I was doing this summer in Leadville (despite my meltdown at the LT100, the White River 50 in July was ample evidence that I was easily in the best shape of my life this summer) and that it more generally appeals to my personality, which is always a positive thing.  I like to run up mountains.

So, where does January leave me with regards to goals and plans for the coming months?  I'd like to keep not missing any days.  I value the accumulative strength that comes with not missing any days of running; I think it's important that the body remain accustomed to at least a little bit of specific physical motion every day in order to not set oneself up for the strange weaknesses and aches that can come with inconsistency.

I would be very happy to average around 500 miles per month for the whole year.  This would be directly in line with my "new" approach of lowering the overall week-to-week mileage in the hopes of vastly increasing the number of days that I'm running strong and healthy each year.

I think the avatar of this type of reasonable but inexorable consistency is Matt Carpenter, who, as a competitive mountain runner, I wouldn't mind emulating in other ways, either.  In most years, Matt will spend eight months (January through August) where he essentially never runs less than two hours each and every day, save for a race taper or two.  He's also gone five years at a time without missing a day.

(Vintage MC crushing Mount Washington in 1998.)

Kyle Skaggs is another person for whom I've witnessed this type of day to week to month consistency pay off.  From when he set the then-course record at the Wasatch 100 in 2007 until he shattered the course record for the Hardrock 100 ten months later, Kyle never missed a day of running but kept most weeks in the safe-and-sane region of 120-140 miles with a few excursions to 160 mountain miles in the final weeks before Hardrock.

(Kyle, slaloming down 14er Handies Peak on the Hardrock 100 course. Photo: Olga Varlamova)

Right now, maintaining my two hour run every morning feels very doable, but pushing my knee beyond that threshold still remains tenuous as doing so seems to almost necessarily require sacrificing the ability to continue to run healthy in the following days.  If I can gradually change that current reality, I think I'll be on my way to finally realizing some competitive racing goals while remaining healthy.  After the past month, I'm certainly the most optimistic I've been about that in a while.