"There is no spoon."

Last weekend I had an ongoing dialogue in my head, it was Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen commentating the Tour de France in my head as we ran for 10 hours on Saturday.  This weekend it was The Matrix:

Spoon boy: Do not try and bend the spoon. That’s impossible. Instead… only try to realize the truth.
Neo: What truth?
Spoon boy: There is no spoon.
Neo: There is no spoon?
Spoon boy: Then you’ll see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself.

This weekend marked the end of my training "ramp" and the start of my three week taper for the Leadville 100 on August 20th.  Annie had organized for us to be joined by the Wall family (Clint, Kirsten, Sierra, Kaia) and Stephen Price this weekend to wrap up my training with some big days and fun as a group.  We had loads of both.


Clint and I drove up late Thursday night to get an early morning run in on Friday before the gang showed up.  Clint and I clocked in at the Golden Burro, a classic eatery in downtown Leadville before heading out.  We both had the "Miner's" breakfast and had no concern for that huge biscuit sitting in our stomachs for too long.

We made our way to Twin Lakes, ran into a guy who assisted us with directions.  As I have found continually in my time in Leadville, the course does not "reveal" itself all that easily.  We decided to opt out of the deep river crossing and head a bit west to cross on a bridge and hook up with the course trail for the ascent up the front side of Hope Pass.   After we left the car, suited up and ready for an attack on the mountain we again, asked for directions a few times.  We finally came upon this sign to confirm our direction.  Willis was a famous miner from Winfield who made and lost a fortune in gold back in the day.  But it was clear what direction we were headed in for our fun.  The front side of Hope as we found, is much more forgiving than the back side.  It's a gradual climb in comparison and sheltered for much of the way through a gulch until you reach the timberline.  Clint and I were feeling good after our huge breakfast and found the altitude to be satisfactory for the occasional giggle and breathtaking awe of the beauty we were traversing. 

We soon found ourselves above timberline and relishing the 360 degree views.  We'd had a pretty good run thus far.  The weather was excellent, we felt fueled and found good conversation to the top.  At the top of the pass we took a break to assess the developing weather systems to the south and west, eat and enjoy our first accomplishment of the day.  The trail had been peppered with others training on the course and we found kinship in the experience.  At this point we decided to descent the back side and "hope" the weather held for our return ascent.  We reached the bottom without fail and hit the road to Winfield for about a mile and half and then turned around as the weather was developing pretty quick.  The return to the back side ascent brought me back to my time with Annie two weekends ago when we had done this together.  There is comfort in knowledge.  I knew the steepness, I could practice what sections to run on and what sections to "fast hike" to conserve precious energy.  I knew all of these experiences would be beneficial come race day when I might be in a fog mentally by this point, but knowing what to tell myself would help keep me on plan.

 
We hit the pass just as weather was closing in, but not yet unleashing.  Come race day in late August there will be an even greater probability for inclement weather.  First, it will be much later in the afternoon when I return over Hope Pass for the trip home to the finish and second it's just the nature of the weather patterns as the summer days dwindle and we enter the fall season.  I can expect potentially drastic temperature drops, excessive wind, driving rain, pelting hail and wet snow as well as severe lightening...or it'll be a day like it was Friday...awesome!  We made it back to the car just as the clouds closed in around the pass, thunder and lightening rocked the sky and we could no longer see the place from which we'd just come.  That was a close one.  We completed almost 17 miles and 6,300 ft of elevation gain, it was a good start to the weekend with a good friend.  Thanks Clint.


We arrived at the house, met up with the girls (all four of them)...and had an enjoyable evening together.  It was nice to have everyone around and distract me from focusing on the training and race too much.  Sierra and Kaia are awesome kids and a lot of fun to be around. 

Saturday morning brought anxiety, I was going to run alone for a large section of the course.  The plan was for Annie and Kirsten to drop me off in Twin Lakes and for me to run north on the course roughly 27 miles to May Queen on Turquoise Lake.  Clint and Stephen would start at May Queen and meet me somewhere on the course and then run back with me.  Your mind can play tricks on you, psych you out and reek havoc.  Did I have enough in my legs after the week of miles and huge climbs from the day before?  Would I get lost?  Would I meet up with Clint and Stephen or would we all get off course and run around each other.  I needed focus, so the "spoon" was my mantra for miles and miles.  This section of the course was my least favorite.  After a beautiful ascent out of Twin Lakes on the Colorado Trail and fun single track, I was launched onto jeep roads totally exposed to the early morning sun and heat.  I was "contouring" north along the bases of Mt Elbert, Mt Massive and finally turning east to the flatness of the valley before returning west to the Fish Hatchery for my final ascent up the famed "power lines" to Sugar Loaf Pass and then the descent into May Queen.  I ran hard the whole time, stopping a lot to check the map and compass, there are just no markers of any sort to put your mind at ease.  I'd run hard for a few miles get to a junction, stop, take out the map sweat dripping onto it, orient with the compass, confirm position and start running my heart out again.  
 
I actually called Annie a couple of hours in to checkpoint, I was actually on schedule.  The boys had left just a bit ago, which meant the plan would work to meet up with them on the power lines trail ascent as I'd hoped.  I started exchanging texts with Stephen as I ran (don't you love technology these days) to see where they were and we were on a welcomed collision course.  By this point the sun and heat were relentless, I'd stopped at the Fish Hatchery to get a refill on water and again ask for directions.  I finally made it to the turn off for the power lines but would have passed it without the assistance of some mountain bikes training for the LT100 mountain bike race.  I ran on, hard.  Running the hill and about 3/4 of the way up ran into Stephen and Clint, I was so happy to see them.  We crushed the remaining ascent and headed over Sugar Loaf to stop and eat and gaze out over the lake.  I was nearly done, so close, just one more descent and 4 miles or so.  We rolled into May Queen and I walked literally, shoes and socks on feet, into the lake and sat down in chest deep water.  I was done as I gazed upward to the spot we'd stopped to eat overlooking the lake.  Nearly 27 miles and 3,700 ft of elevation gain and over 5 hours of running (and stopping).  I got emotional, I teared up, I couldn't talk.  Every inch of my body was tingling.  I had made the decision the night before that I needed to do a large part of this run on my own, I needed to feel what it would be like to be out there without anyone.  I needed to feel what it would be like to see people and get a pacer after pushing myself, alone. 

I needed to see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself. 

I have three glorious weeks ahead of me to find comfort in knowing I've done all that I can do to prepare for this race that eluded me a year ago as I was recovering.  I've rediscovered dormant drive I once knew and had missed.  A physical/psychological drive that only comes with pushing yourself beyond limits over and over again.  I've discovered new enlightening aspects of life that I'll cherish forever. How love can truly conquer fear in so many parts of our lives each day and how grateful I am for the love of my life.  

Annie has been my biggest supporter and even when I didn't think I had it in me, she knew I did.  She practically threw me out of the car on Saturday morning (figuratively), because she knew if I thought about it too much longer, I'd change my mind...she knows me so well.  She has been an amazing spirit on this journey and I can't wait to collapse in her arms on Sunday, August 21st, knowing I couldn't have done this without her by my side, knowing just what to do when so I got what I needed, a push out the door or arms to melt into after it was all over.


"I'm trying to free your mind, Neo. But I can only show you the door. You're the one that has to walk through it" - Morpheus

The Pain Chronicles Part II: Pawnee/Buchanan Loop

I had a good week after returning from Leadville last weekend.  My legs felt good, I was in good spirits with only two more BIG weeks of running left before I start the taper.

Saturday, Clint Wall and Stephen Price joined me for an assault in the Indian Peaks Wilderness on the Pawnee/Buchanan Loop, but it was us who were assaulted instead, what a tough day.  

The positive side to this run was that even though an estimated 7 hour run turned into just over 10 hours, we completed the loop and it was good training to bank that many hours on my feet, run with wet feet and run in compression socks (I'd never tried this before).

Pawnee Pass sits at 12,541' (and is the initial picture at the top of my blog) - Buchanan Pass sits at 11,837'.  We did a counter-clockwise route, tackling Buchanan Pass first and then Pawnee, our preferred route. On a normal, clear summer day the Pawnee/Buchanan loop is gnarly sick in terms of elevation gain (~6,900), altitude (average 10,700) and mileage (roughly 26 miles, it took us over 27 miles, but I'll get to that). We ran this together a few years ago and were caught in a thunderstorm ascending Pawnee Pass on the way back to the car...not fun.  This time though we had clear, blue skies and sun the whole way, but the trail was not as we remembered it.

Leaving Mitchell Lake just before 8am, we encountered snow an hour or so in and lost the trail, found the trail and lost it again and again until reaching the treeline on Buchanan Pass (some 5 miles later). This kind of traversing is mentally and emotionally frustrating.  Stephen is an expert in orienteering and the three of us helped locate and relocate the trail time and time again.  We'd hit a snow field and spread out in three directions across it to the other side trying to locate the trail. If no trail was found, we'd pull out the map and compass and make our own trail.  It was comical at times, like the Three Stooges. By the time we reached Buchanan Pass we were exhausted from all the start/stops and navigation. We descended the backside and were grateful for the absence of snow over the trail, but soon found other obstacles.  

Half-way through we had a few deep creek crossings that were pretty treacherous, Stephen took this as opportunity to teach Clint and me the proper way to cross as a team; form a triangle, interlock arms, each take turns taking a step and securing footing.  On that crossing, there was a small waterfall just below us, so I was grateful for the care and attention to this crossing and Stephen's knowledge and experience.

Long sections of the trail, all the way up to Pawnee Lake were blocked with trees that had fallen due to late snow and strong winds, an insane amount of trees.  We reached one section in the valley below Pawnee Lake where it was as if the hand of God had swept through the valley decimating the forest leaving a wake of destruction.  I've never seen anything like it in my life, to be there when it happened would have been soul shuttering.

The backside of Pawnee Pass is stupid steep, it's so steep as you traverse the switchbacks it's like you are scaling the side of building, one wrong move, one miscalculated step on the large, loose boulders and the whole thing, with you trying to surf it, is going down the nearly 3,000 foot vertical face. On the last few switchbacks the steepness prevents you from seeing the mid-section switchbacks below.

We took some relief on top of the pass, played hide and seek with a marmot and continued the descent.  We were over 7 hours in at this point and getting punchy...we hit some snow fields and decided to have some fun, sledding on our butts down the incline.  We rounded Lake Isabelle's north side and arrived in the parking lot after 6pm, we'd been out all day, it was unbelievable.

Both Stephen and Clint are really good sports, always positive and up for anything.  If you've got to be out on a run that takes over 3 hours longer than you expected (or doing anything else for that matter), these are the guys you want to be with. They were a good balance to my sometimes quick move to frustration in some of our situations.

In the end, we conquered our goal, had some fun in the sun (and snow) and most of all supported one another through a very arduous day in the mountains.  We were witness to nature's treasures and destruction, together.  I'm grateful to call Stephen and Clint friends.

They'll be with me again next weekend in Leadville for my final big push.

All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man... the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports. - Chief Seattle 

The Pain Chronicles: 2 days on course in Leadville

A friend suggested I name my updates for this weekend the "Pain Chronicles" which I love and so I did, thanks Paul Wehner.

After returning from South Dakota, I've been nervous, even scared at times.  I was extremely apprehensive going into this weekend, but I knew I had to do it sooner rather than later.  While the terrain and weather made the Black Hills course extremely tough for the AD4AP team, my challenges will be altitude and mountain passes.  The sooner I got my ass to two miles above sea level and running/hiking some of these hills, the better.

Annie accompanied me this weekend and is a great training partner for this, other than being my wife and best friend, she is no stranger to altitude and mountain passes having trekked in Nepal on the Annapurna Circuit at elevations twice the height of Leadville or anything I will encounter during the race.  Nothing really phases her either so animals, taking a wrong turn, weather....she just rolls with it, which is perfect.

Saturday, we took a leisurely morning and then headed toward May Queen on the far end of Turquoise Lake stopping at the Timberline Lake Trail Head, no need to run roads...I know what that's like.  The views of the lake are amazing and we started up the Colorado Trail.

We started discussing race strategy and it was clear this little piece of single track trail was going to be moderate to difficult on the way out, but on the return and most likely in the dark very troublesome requiring a good deal of mental acuity and attention (this section is between 76 and 86 miles into the race).  For my BH100 guys, this section resembled that son of bitch trail between Dalton and Elk.  We hit Hagerman Pass Rd (dirt) and then turned left on the 105A 4wd double track...the 105A was studded with boulders, but overall the ascent to Sugar Loaf Pass was pretty good.  We returned down the Colorado Trail from the top for a change of scenery and I quickly appreciated not having to climb it the whole way up or go the whole way down, it was even more steep and technical than the first section.

While ascending to the top of Sugar Loaf I started to get a weird feeling and even more so on my own running back from May Queen to Leadville.  Here's the deal, I can't figure out if seeing almost the entire course from almost any vantage point is a good thing or a bad thing. It's just utterly expansive.  The thought of running 100 miles is daunting enough, but seeing the course splayed out in front of you with mountain tops looming in the backdrop is just absolutely overwhelming.  I ran on.

Annie dropped me off at the May Queen camp ground, I loaded up, changed shoes and set out for the first and last 13.5 miles of the course.  Again, single track, narrow and technical in parts and again probably nothing to worry about in the beginning but it does represent miles 86.5 to 100, mindfulness a must.  Just to get the experience out of the way, I did wipe out once across a small run-off section, dinged my knee pretty badly, but I think it will be okay.  And then the feeling set in again as my gaze wondered across the lake to Sugar Loaf where Annie and I had been a couple hours earlier and again as I rounded the lake and could see the majestic mountain tops lined up to the south....oh boy.  I ran on.

I got lost a couple of times on my way back to Leadville (the course isn't marked yet).  No sweat, I wasn't worried, the course will be marked on race day and I am pretty sure now after re-examining the map where I should have gone and didn't.  I rolled into our pad and felt pretty good overall, day 1 - complete.

Andy (my cousin) was here in Leadville this past weekend racing the Silver Rush 50, it was his 4th 50 mile race this season, what an animal.  He and Melissa stopped by on Saturday to say hello and drop off maps and other race material that will be invaluable in my preparation.  We had a nice chat and it was great to meet Melissa.  We were on the top floor of a converted turn of the century hospital building, condos and lofts.  We'll be here again for the race, thanks to a good friend.  The view is spectacular, in fact you can see the entire course from downtown to Hope Pass (just not the backside of Hope for obvious reasons).  Andy pointed this out and I shared my quandary with him, to see the course or not see the course...it's so expansive and the view is unforgiving when you consider running from point A to point B and back.  I continue to ponder.  So in my pondering of this weekend, I did arrive at the realization of how blessed I am to have the opportunity to preview the course like this and have Andy and others sharing their experiences.  It's a gift to be here this weekend and the upcoming other weekends I will travel here to prepare, I won't squander the gift I've been given.

Sunday brought us to Clear Creek Rd, Winfield and Sheep Gulch trail head for the backside ascent of Hope Pass.  I'll spare the details, but we had a false start and then figured out, yes, we were in the right place.  This will be a relentless assault on the body, mind and spirit on race day for sure. To the right, the 2D picture really doesn't capture the absolute astonishing grade of this trail, we made our way  through the lower trees and aspen groves, which come September will glow yellow, orange and red.

We soon found the treeline and more forgiving switchbacks through rock fields and clearing.

There was an old cabin to the right of the trail with a spectacular view of the valley and opposing mountains.  A great spot to stow away during a massive storm.  We reached the Pass, the temperature dropped, the wind whipped over the pass as if being pushed through a tunnel. Here we are at the top, Leadville is way off in the distance.  The views and acknowledgement that you've made it here on foot, unassisted, to gaze upon the glory that is our gift - the earth, the feeling is inexplicable...you get goose bumps, there is a profound sense of smallness, humility... I ponder at the top of the pass, Annie asks what's wrong...I can't speak it, I can only feel it, I need to get down and assess the reaction I've just had...

..and we descend back to the trail head.  We were very fortunate, given our late start, that we had no weather.  In fact as we were on the pass, the sun came out and heated everything up considerably, yet another consideration for race day.

We packed up late Sunday and headed home.  Two more weeks left in the "Pain Chronicle" which will be like nothing I've done to my body, mind and soul.  I'll have to dig deep, find the discipline to get out there even when my legs feel dead, my spirit seems at it's limit and mind is recoiling...

"When a man stares into the abyss and sees nothing but darkness, this is the time that he finds his character. And it is his character, that keeps him from falling into the abyss."