My next few events and major outings all have a killer ton of vert in them. I already have some solid base mileage, so why not take advantage of the conditions in the Wasatch and do a bunch peaks. I get the workout I need and I get to summit some of the best mountains around,
Matt and I attempted to tackle the difficult Super Beatout hike - a 20ish mile long ridge with 11 peaks in total, 10 of which are over 11,000 ft elevation. While we were unable to complete the whole traverse as we ran out of time, we did do 7 of the peaks and had a great time in the process. Instead of boring you with words I'll just summarize with a bunch of photos and a video. The pics aren't in any real order of how we traveled, sorry.
Sitting on top of the 2nd American Fork Twin
Jumping across rocks on the scary AF Twins ridge
Matt hitting the top of the first AF Twin
Technical downclimbing on Devil's Castle
Running down Mt Baldy's west ridge
The technical traverse from Hidden Peak to the AF Twins
Standing atop Mt Baldy
Matt making his way up Red Baldy. Red Top Mountain in the background
The HOMM (Herriman Oquirrhman Marathon) is a two day running festival, of sorts. Race Director Aaron Shamy created an event that included a tough trail half marathon on Friday morning followed by a series of races on Saturday; marathon, half marathon, 10k, and 5k. Participants can choose to do just one of the races or combine the trail half with the marathon to attempt the Oquirrhman Challenge (names after the range of mountains the races start in) - nearly 40 miles and 2600 ft of climbing.
I was asked to help mark the trail half marathon course last year. While we felt the course was marked adequately well, with the horrible weather conditions there were a few people who missed key turn-offs. This year I was determined to not lose a single person. The week of the race was supposed to be my comeback week after taking a week off following my Bryce 100 miler. It was supposed to be easy, with low miles. However, while Monday offered an easy cruise up View Benchmark, Wednesday proved to be a toughie with a fast ascent of Mount Raymond with Scott. Then we had to mark the course on Thursday evening, which ended up being about 10 miles of running. Unlike last year I decided to participate in the races this year and even go after the full challenge. Unfortunately, I was going in under recovered and a little tired from the three previous days of running (25 miles, 7000 vert).
Aaron made a spectacle of me prior to the start of the race and I think everyone felt that I would lead the way up the climb to Butterfield Peak. So when the gun went off the whole party of runners just let me lead out. It didn't take long for the previous three days to catch up to me though and I slowed considerably, allowing about 7 people to pass. Ashley, another Altra Ambassador, tucked in behind me and we just chatted with a few other people almost the whole way to the top. At the critical turn-off only a couple of people failed to see the markings and went straight. I yelled for them to come back and they only ended up losing about 30 seconds.
About 20 ft into the start of the trail half
Making our way up to Butterfield Peak
Once we summited the peak the pack spread out and Ashley and I found ourselves running together down the 8 miles and 3500 ft of descent down the dirt road to the last 3.5 miles of pavement. We were about a half mile behind, what we thought, were the two lead people. We just hung out and chatted the whole way down. Once on the pavement we kicked up the pace a few notches until we could see that we were reeling one of the guys in. With just one mile left we passed the last aid station and they said we were in 5th and 6th place. What? We thought we were in 3rd and 4th. Apparently, there were two guys way out in front of us. Oh well. We did end up passing the 4th place guy with only a half mile left and crossed the finish line together. Ashley won the womens race and I took 4th male. We were, however, both tied for the lead for the Oquirrhman Challenge going into the marathon the next day.
Ashley and I acting, well, pretty normal after the trail half
I definitely don't have to explain how tired I was going into Saturday's marathon. I was beat. My focus was on holding off the other Oquirrhman runners and just trying to finish with a respectable time. They start the marathon and half marathon at the same time at the top of Butterfield Canyon. It's a 7 mile, 2000 ft descent down the canyon, to some rolling ups and downs until mile 15. Then the course is a steady climb for the next 7 miles, getting steeper with each mile to the top of the paved road up Rose Canyon. It then turns around and runs the same last 3.5 miles as the trail half back to the park and finish line.
Rachel, me, and Ashley before the start of the marathon
Our (by our I mean mine and Ashley's) goal was a 3:45 marathon, just cruiser and easy. Once starting down the road though gravity took over and we were averaging 7 min/miles all the way to the bottom (still very easy). The pack had spread out; I knew we were in the lead for the challenge, but we actually found ourselves in 3rd place together in the overall marathon. The other two guys were way out front though. We continued our 7 min/mile pace all the way to mile 15 and oddly found ourselves catching the front runners. By mile 16 we had actually passed them both and were now in the lead. But Ashley was pulling ahead. She was definitely more fresh. And lets be honest, she's just a better marathoner than me. Over that long 7 miles to 22 my pace continued to slow and her lead increase. The good news though was that the people behind me were falling even further back, so by the time I turned around at mile 22 I knew I had 2nd place overall, and 1st place male locked up. And I would take 2nd place overall in the Oquirrhman Challenge behind Ashley. Not a bad way to finish the weekend. What was also really awesome was to see my good friend Rachel Moody take 2nd female in the marathon and 3rd overall in the Oquirrhman Challenge. That's right, of the top three finishers, two were women. Brilliant!
Finishing the marathon with cramping calves
Oquirrhman top 3
Now, a few days later, my calves are wrecked and I'm still pretty tired overall. I am definitely not used to running that fast and that far on pavement. It's good for me though. I'll tell you what, Aaron puts on an amazing race. There were frequent aid stops, tons of port O potties along the course, and he had more than just water/gatorade and gels at aid stations (bananas, oranges, and pretzels). The local police force who helped were incredible and the finish area is fantastic with the park and everything else. If you are looking for a challenging couple of days of running I would definitely recommend this race for 2014. I sure plan to be there again.
Early this year I made a deal with Matt; if I felt like I did well enough in the Buffalo Run 100 I'd pace him the full distance of his first 100 miler at Bryce. Well, while I would have been a little happier with the Buffalo Run result I was still happy enough that my focused turned to supporting Matt complete a new achievement. Josh and Scott would also be running and expressed an interest in staying together for as long as we could, hoping to at least make it to mile 50 before breaking up. And while the final member of the refuse2quit crew would be out there, MVH's focus was on the podium. He's been training like a madman and wanted to see how he could fair. I'll let him tell his own story.
When people would ask about what I was planning for Bryce I would respond similarly each time - we are just going to have a party for 100 miles. Looking back now it can hardly be described as anything less. To tell the story will be less about describing how four men attacked the course and came out victorious and more about how four kids from the neighborhood went on an adventure in their local hills. In every respect we were buddies having fun on the playground.
Running along perfect single track early in the race
Matt has become a meticulous runner, knowing exactly how hard to push and when, how to eat, and how much water and fluids to consume. From the start of the race we set out at a comfortable pace, chattering away at the beauty of the course and the perfect conditions for racing. We were all together in a larger pack of about 15 runners. At least 10 of the people in the pack were wearing Altra Lone Peaks. It was really cool to see. Those first 10 miles to the first aid station flew by. We weren't running fast, but the company was so pleasant that it was as though we forgot we were even running. After Thunder Mountain aid station the course takes a few rolling hills until it crosses the dirt road over to Proctor. From there it is a steady climb a few miles up to the aid station. I felt like I needed a little time to myself, Matt was in a good zone, and everyone was moving well, so I decided to push the pace. I ran every step up to Proctor aid station (mile 19.5), passing about 15 people in the process. We were a vocal bunch and the likelihood of seeing wildlife was slim. But even still, if I would hear a noise I would turn in hopes of seeing a deer or elk move through the aspens. Unfortunately, in every case all I saw was someone dropping their shorts to relieve themselves. I got to the aid station about 5 minutes before the boys, fueled up, and awaited their arrival so I could help support them. Josh's parents, Bart and Brenda, were following us at every aid station throughout the whole race and were integral to getting us supplied and on our way. Alicia, Matt's wife, was also there often to help us out. It was amazing (especially since I never use a crew).
Coming into Proctor aid station, mile 19.5
We left Proctor and dove into the canyon, again with a large group of runners. The downhill into the canyon was fast. The aspens, then pines, then pinyon trees flew by until we were on the canyon floor heading west. We knew we would have to turn south again and start right back out to our highest point up to Blubber aid station, even higher than Proctor. The climb up was long, hot, and at times very technical. We moved with efficiency, but the long stretch took its toll and Scott began to slow as our pack made its way closer to the aid station. Again I felt the need to stretch my legs and pushed through the last part of the final climb and flew into the aid station at a near sprint. Awaiting us were the familiar faces of Josh's parents, Jim and Britta, and the Ultraspire crew who were manning the aid station. The boys came in shortly after, we refueled quickly and were off.
Now on the ridge at about 9000 feet above sea level the exposure was absurd. Red dirt ridges fell of to steepled 'hoodoos' as far as the eye could see, to the north and south. More than once we had to stop and look over the edge. Several times people would ask if we were ok, only to respond that we were just taking in the sites. When we weren't running along the ridge we were enveloped in pine trees, fallen logs, and perfectly smooth single track. I hardly remember those miles. They were certainly the easiest part of the course. We passed the 100k turn around and almost immediately (even though it was 2 miles further) found ourselves at the Kanab aid station, run by a high school cross country team from St George. It was chaos there with all of the racers and workers, but we got out quickly and started toward Straight Canyon.
At Kanab Aid Station
Now, in the middle of the day the heat was starting to inflict its power on us. I think we were all affected differently, but we all seemed to experience a bit of a 'low' during the long descent down to the aid station. It just never seemed to come. I see pictures and it appears as though I was often leading our mangy crew, but every time I think back it feels like I was following during this section, just trying to keep up. It was the one time during the race when people have said I was a bit grumpy. Who am I to tell them I wasn't. It was just after this aid station, on the climb to Pink Cliffs, that I changed up my fueling and electrolyte intake. Thankfully, my new strategy started to work and I started to feel much better on the long, 5 mile climb up to the highest part of the course. Once on top our race came to a halt, not because anyone was tired or hurt, but because the views were so stunning that we couldn't do anything other than take it in. It was worth the lost minutes to enjoy the vibrant colors and inspiring architecture nature was providing.
Coming into Straight Canyon Aid station
After Pink Cliffs aid (mile 45) we knew we had a nearly all downhill descent to the turnaround of the race. After a mile or so of running together I knew we were all good to get there so I took off. My legs wanted to run fast and I needed to let them. My stomach was in knots, but not enough to stop me running and I turned on the speed. There is 3 miles of dirt road and then 2 miles of some of the best single track I've ever run. It sits right underneath the tall hoodoos and winds in and out of gulleys and through run-off drainages until finally you pop out around the corner to a massive crowd of spectators, crew, and runners, all but the last oblivious to the beauty that was just a quarter mile around the corner and down the trail. There my parents were awaiting me, along with Alicia, Bart, and Brenda. They took great care of me as I attended to a blister on my toe and swapped out some gear. The other three came in about 10 minutes later and we all sat and took a nice long break to recover and make ready for the return journey. Alicia was dedicated to making sure everyone always had food, water, and coke. I'm so grateful for all she did.
Around mile 49/51 along the course
So how do you formulate the words that will take us back another 50 miles? No one wants to read a novel. I'll be as succinct as I can. On our way back up to Pink Cliffs we brought along Jeremy as a pacer. He was also a great, albeit impromptu photographer and captured some great stuff. We laughed the whole way back up to the aid station where it was insanely windy and took off down the trail back to Straight Canyon. Someone forgot to tell Scott that we were nearly 60 miles into our run because he was crushing the downhill single track like it was a 5k. I was pulling up the rear just trying to keep up, it was nuts. Once back on the road we decided to walk it into the aid station and recover for the long climb ahead. We were now at mile 61.5 in about 15 hours and were having a great time. We said goodbye to our crew and headed up the very long dirt road toward Kanab aid station again.
Walking back up to Pink Cliffs
I mind as well be 7. Peeing off a cliff
Cruising into Straight canyon aid station
It finally started to get dark about a quarter of the way up so we turned on our lamps. Not long after we spotted the ever-identifiable green light of Davy Crockett. He was struggling with the altitude, but shuffling along. We then passed good friend Shannon Price and his pacer. Then again, over the next three miles, passed another four racers with their pacers. Matt was now 15 miles farther into a run than he had ever gone before and was an absolute machine. If it was flat, downhill, or even slightly uphill he was running. We each took turns at the front, setting the pace. This was a team effort and everyone was a key player. Like kids on a campout we found ourselves turning off our lights to gaze at the majesty of the stars and listen to the stillness of the night. Our bodies hurt, but our souls were alight in the undertaking and we gloried in it.
Kanab aid station came and went quickly while other runners lingered. Our only stop only steps outside of the station came when Matt had to puke back up some broth that didn't agree with him. Like a good pacer I caught it all on film and you can see it at the bottom of this post. Then the long, but awesome rollers back to Blubber where we were finally one of the only ones at the aid station. Another guy, Graham, was there too and had been for a few minutes. He didn't look good, but because we were joking around and having fun he must have been inspired to tag along. We all stayed together through Proctor canyon. The most common phrase through that section was "I don't remember coming down that" and "is this climb ever going to end". It was the toughest part of the course going both directions, but this time we had to do it at mile 75. Brutal.
When we came into Proctor aid station at mile 79 you would have thought we were at Pole Line Pass at the Wasatch 100 - the place where racers go to die. There were about 10 racers with pacers sitting around the fire and none of them looked really good. Smart as we were we didn't stay for more than 5 minutes and were quickly off with Graham in tow. From here on our we'd be on new trails as the course deviates so that it can finish at Ruby's Inn near the national park. After an initial climb we had a long, gradual descent to what we though would be King's Creek aid station. What we didn't know, was at the turn-off onto the single track trail we had to do an 800 foot climb up and over Keyhole Arch (which we couldn't see in the dark). There was a lot of gumbling and a fair amount of swearing, but we pushed hard and passed several other groups. Minutes later we were finally at the aid station and only had 10 miles left. But to our surprise there was Jennilyn, our friend who was in first place for the women. She had turned her ankle and had to DNF, unable to continue. It was disheartening, but she was fine with it.
We set off into the dawn light and what we though would be a nice downhill over the next 10 miles. As it turns out we had a two miles climb then rolling dirt roads all the way to what felt like another 15 miles to the finish. But there, finally, through the KOA and along the serene lake of Ruby's Inn was the small, nearly indistinguishable chalk finish line. Waiting were our famlies and friends who had sacrificed so much to support us, help us, and be there to watch us finish. We crossed the finish line hand in hand, four boys who were out on an adventure. We collapsed into each other and cried with joy at what we had accomplished. We weren't men who conquered a 100 mile course, we were boys who had been transformed into men together. We all experienced the same trials, the same challenges, and came out a better person.
A quarter of a mile to go
100 mile finishers
This was the best race I've ever run. I'm a better person because of it. On another day I probably could have been competitive at the front. And yet I would have traded my experience for a win on any course on any day, against any group of competitors. Ask me to do it again and I will drop everything to be there with my friends. Hopefully we'll make plans to do it again. We certainly have other friends and brothers who still need to run 100 miles. Time to make plans (Brent and Aaron).
I awoke and saw rain and wet streets. I was out. What else to do that day? Probably nothing more than go back to sleep, then grumble about missing the Grandeur run. Later I would look at the photos of friends who did get up and run up a mountain in the rain. I would regret not going. Pulled on my favorite shorts, grabbed a couple long-sleeve shirts and drove myself to SLC. Don't know why, but legs don't get cold, so that is all I would need to wear as I would be hiking/running over 3,000 feet up the West side of Mount Grandeur. Parked at the school 3/4 mile from the trailhead and when I saw all the other folks there I knew I made the right decision. This was going to be fun.
Said hello to familiar faces at the traihead. Everyone in a good mood. Could not see the upper half of the mountain covered in cloud. We would be going up there. I had been up there dozens of times. This time was going to be my fastest time up by several minutes. I was sure of it. Eric said "One minute" and runners gathered near the sign. I was fiddling with shirts when he said go. Just ran up the trail like I had done many times before, but never with so many people. Breathing heavily already. That is normal for me. Then I warm up and breathing gets managed. The trail is steep, no exaggeration. I just wanted to keep a steady, aggressive pace. I think I did that. I wanted to run the enitre 9.6 miles in under 2 hours. If I could get to the summit in 50 minutes or less I could bank some time for the remaining miles. I passed a few runners on the climb, then was passed by one. For all of the upper half of the mountain I played leap-frog with another guy, a very strong hiker. Wish I would have got his name when I chatted with him at the finish. I wasn't racing against him, I was racing the clock. I wanted that 50 minutes or less. Near the top I broke into a run, seeing that a sub-50 was within reach. Not to be this time, I crossed the summit, according to my watch, at 50 minutes 25 seconds.
There was no sight-seeing because there was nothing to see up there. It was white-out and atmospheric. I looked down a half-dozen times and could see nobody below me. I brought no water and no gels. This was planned. I can do the entire run without those things. At the summit I wish I had brought exactly those things. I was a little wobbly from the aggresive climb. On the back side of the mountain, I stabilized and just ran and the fun began. The rain party was on the East side of the mountain. Down I ran and the rain fell and I loved every moment. This was just like childhood in Bellingham. I knew this feeling. The only thing missing were banana slugs, wet ferns, and mossy trees. Church Fork was an excellent stand-in for Washington state. I ran entirely alone from the summit down to Church Fork/Pipeline junction. Thank goodness there was a table set up with cold drinks, and a couple volunteers there. I stopped for a minute and downed a Coke, then some water. Meanwhile, two runners rolled through and disappeared down trail. I got back onto it feeling terrific. I really love running the pipeline trail now. It is flat and fast. Much better than running road. Twice I had to stop and tie shoelaces, but I made good time to the Bambi Hill turnoff. Seriously slippery up the hill. Without trees and small bushes to pull on, the hill would be near impossible to mount. Nick S. appeared behind me. We chatted most of the way up, then ran down the single track. Again I had to stop and re-tie a lace, and had to let him go. Another runner showed up behind me, and I stepped aside. He was incredibly quick on that tecnical downhill and disapeared in seconds. The trail was slippery but I managed to stay upright the entire run. I did see the low-hanging branch and ducked under. Other runners had slammed into it, drawing blood. The route followed a slightly different trail than what I had expected, but I enjoyed this variation. A look at the watch and I knew I had sub-2 hours. Back onto the shoreline trail that runs the foot of the mountain I kept a steady quick pace to the finish. I really could smell food down there.
I came in at 1 hour 57 minutes and 30 seconds. That was fun. Craig came in a few minutes later, getting his sub-2 hours. Scott came in about 2 hours 22 minutes; then Matt at 2:29. Everyone did very well. I don't think the rain and mud slowed anyone. Maybe up Bambi Hill but the course record was demolished by 6 or 7 minutes.
It's now the end of a very hard training cycle where not only I, but several of the refuse2quit team have peaked at our highest mileage and vert ever. Going into Saturday's Grandeur Peak Fun Run I think we were all ready to be done and rest up for the next couple of weeks prior to the Bryce 100.
The Grandeur Peak Fun Run is a local fatass event hosted by the MRC boys. It is now in it's 7th or so year and every year just seems to get better. For donations only they host one of the best events around. The course races 3200 vertical feet up with the west ridge to the summit of Grandeur Peak in only 2.3 miles. Runners then fly down the Church Fork trail until it meets up with the Pipeline, at which point they run a couple of miles to Rattlesnake Gulch, then up and over Bambi Hill, down the steep gully and around on well-traveled trails back to the start/finish where pancakes, bacon, eggs, donuts, hot chocolate, juice, and soda await finishers. Seriously, for donations only? It was well worth the $10 I gave. For a 10 mile race it is wicked hard, but every step is beautiful and fun.
I'll write on my own race, but I have the feeling that everyone else would have a similar report. I came into this race really tired, like dog tired. All I wanted was for it to be over so that I could focus on my taper, which I've decided is to basically do nothing. Ha. Matt and I drove to the start where were met up with the rest of the crew and tons of Wasatch Mountain Wranglers. Under threat of heavy rain we lingered while Erik Storheim counted down to a very uneventful start (just how a good trail race should be). MVH went out steady, but from may vantage point behind him he didn't appear to go out too hard. I went as fast as I thought my legs and lungs could handle it. Scott wasn't far behind me and Matt behind him.
When we hit the ridge the pack started to spread out a little within the first quarter of a mile. I got past by the three front women and a couple of guys and was sitting about 20 in back of the leader who was moving up the ridge like it was flat ground (Jason Dorais who would go onto smash the course record in 1:37:00). My calves felt like they were cement blocks and I hoped that they would loosen up the higher I got. I've recently started testing Mighty Might, a new dietary supplement meant to mimic the effects of high altitude training. As I moved further up the mountain my legs loosed up a little, but still felt heavy and I had to work hard to keep them progressing at a reasonable speed. My lungs, however, felt stronger and more open the farther I went. It was incredible. Not that Grandeur Peak is a tall mountain (something like 8200 ft), but I shouldn't have felt that good. About 3/4 of the way up we were engulfed in clouds and it got kind of eerie, but really cool. It still hadn't started raining and I was really starting to enjoy myself. I was also passing a few people and even came close to catching up with the three front women who were moving fast. I hit the summit in 56:40, my fastest ascent ever and started down Church Fork.
I was right behind a guy who took a quick wrong turn before I got him back on the trail. But it allowed me to pass, at which point I started into my "Oh S@$T, this is going to hurt" speed. It had now started raining, but the trail wasn't muddy, so I just let it open up. I passed another guy, then caught the lead women who let me pass. They made a comment about catching back up, which I full expected to happen once I hit the flat Pipeline trail. Going down Church Fork I passed another two people and then turned onto the Pipeline trail where the three last weeks of peak training all settled into my legs at the same time. It was all I could do to keep moving. And now it was absolutely pouring rain. I expected someone to pass me at any moment, but no one ever did.
I figured that Bambi Hill would be an absolute mudfest and it didn't disappoint. If you didn't grab trees to help you up you'd never have made it. I again felt like I'd get passed, but not only did that not happen, I actually caught up to the person in front of me. I passed him going down the very steep gully after, then passed another racer on the traverse trails, which were also super muddy. My legs were fried, but when I hit the finishing fire road I opened things up and dropped to a 6:30 pace. I knew if I could keep it together I had a shot of going under 2 hours. I raced down the finishing hill to the bottom in a final time of 1:59:24, my fastest loop time ever by more than a half hour. The first place woman came in about 2 min after me, and then people started to trickle in every minute or two after that.
MVH ran a wicked fast 50 min flat to the summit and a final time of 1:57:30ish.
Scott was next in after me around 1:22:30.
Then Matt after Scott around 1:29:00 (I think).
The rest of the Wasatch Mountain Wrangler crew came through before and after all of us at different times. It was awesome to finally meet people that I've only talked to online. Dan and Nick, it was a pleasure. It was also awesome having other great friends there too: Andrea, Mark, Erik, Jennilyn (didn't run but took lots of photos at the finish), and others. What an amazing morning and a great way to end my training. Now, all focus is on Bryce in less than two weeks.
There has been a lack of words lately. I've felt, in a great way, that those deep thoughts and insights about running and life have been void within me for some time. I still don't feel them there and as I write this I feel as though I'm plodding along, much like I did at my last race, the Buffalo Run 100. Like then, I know that the motivation and words are inside of me, but I can't find the depth to draw them out and express them on paper.
My personal focus, my thoughts, and actions have been pulled in three directions so greatly as of late that I don't feel like I contain any extra room for creativity. My wife and I and our children have very busy lives. We both work full time and our four children require the attention they deserve. These two aspects of a person's life would often be enough to not even try to add in something else. But both Emily and I need personal growth; both physically, mentally, and spiritually. And oddly enough, we both find that we get a great deal of all three through running. With our crazy schedule the ability to add in running can be a source of conflict between us, finding ways to both go without sacrificing other mandatory parts of our lives. But we do it.
While Emily is currently in upkeep mode for her running I'm trying to cap off a peak training sequence before tapering for my next race, the Bryce 100 miler on May 31st. Over the last two weeks I've peaked at the highest mileage for training than ever before, averaging 75 miles/week. And while this week won't see that high of mileage, the intensity has and will continue to be extremely high. Because of this I've seen certain side effects that I've never experienced before. One was mentioned at the beginning of this article. The other is 'absent-mindedness'. There have been numerous times when I've found myself forgetting to do menial tasks that I've never forgotten before. I've left the keys in my car twice, over night. Luckily it was parked in the garage. I've also left milk and eggs out on the counter, left water running in the sink, and even completely spaced what day it was once last week. Emily, the amazing nurse she is, told me that my calorie intake and required sleep don't support the amount of effort I'm putting in for training. Of course, she's right and I've since made a couple of adjustments that I'm hoping will help.
And while I've now found the words to put on paper for this article, I still feel a sense of loss for the creativity that goes along with supporting my other writing on trailandultrarunning.com. I'm hoping that over the next few weeks as I taper for the race I find my writing mojo again. As for running, I'm not sure if I've ever been this motivated. And it's not just about seeing the physical results of putting in the extra effort. This time of year begs to be enjoyed in the outdoors. The trails are dry, the normally dead weeds and grass are green and lush, and the flowers are out everywhere. It is simply gorgeous and there is no place I'd rather be. Below are a few pictures from this morning's run with Matt on the trails above downtown Salt Lake City, UT. You'll understand why there psych is there, for sure. Now to find the words.
You'd think with a blog full of ultra runners we'd have more to say around here. I mean, sheesh, get any one of us out on the trails and we'll likely chat your ears off. The past few weeks though I think everyone has just been a big busy or focused or both.
Scott has been dealing with some ITBS, which means his running is limited to flat roads. And seriously, who wants to read about that. We've gone out a few times together and the pace has been good, but still conversational. I feel like personally my flat speed is getting better and I think Scott would agree.
Josh is still playing running 'hide and seek'. I know he's putting in the miles, but he seems to be a little covert about it. Now that he's single again he is probably running after (or from) all the hot running girls. He's certainly young enough still to be a catch.
MVH owns Farmington Canyon. Seriously, if you want to go run it you either need to get permission from him or just show up any of four days of the week and he'll be there at 5:30am waiting to take you on a tour of every rock and root. He's crushing it though, there's no denying that. And his next race will be phenomenal.
Matt has decided that he definitely does NOT want to suck at running 100 miles next month. He's turned his training up to a level I wasn't sure possible for him. There is no doubt that when it comes to running the Bryce 100 Matt will have it strongly in hand.
And me, well, I'm just doing my thing. Every aspect of my life has been exceedingly busy, but I've still found time to put in the miles. I'm often creative and I don't always get the sleep I need, but I generally feel on top of my training and look forward to my next race.
In 5 weeks the entire refuse2quit crew will be toeing the line at the inaugural Bryce 100. Everyone has different goals of what the want to accomplish. Mine is simple, hang with Matt every step of the way and make sure he gets to the finish line feeling good. That's my job and I'm up for the task. I can't wait.
Several of the Wasatch Mountain Wranglers at The Wedge
