DUDs

I'm not doing much as far as racing this year, so it's time to get some glycogen deprived long runs on the calendar.

The Next Big Thing in Country Music

It's amazing the power of the 100 mile belt buckle. I just purchased a guitar about two months back. I've had no formal training.  I've just been strumming, picking, and wearing my belt buckle.  My family quietly smiles at me and asks,"Are you having a midlife crisis?". They don't understand; it's the power of a 100 mile belt buckle.

Meal Ticket

I'm ready to put my fast guns to the test.  I'm challenging any gunslingers out there who thinks they can out pace me in a 5.5 mile run.   The course is a pair of loops divided by 23rd St.  I've got dinner for anyone who actually accomplishes the task.   The time is high noon (6:30pm) on Tuesday11/27.   The meeting place is City Park Golf Course parking lot.  Bring your A Game because I'm not planning on this being a charity event. :) Then again, it  might be more fun to just have people  get together for a Tuesday night run and host dinner at my place.  Come one come all...

The Mighty Squirl Hunter

I got out with the DT Runners this morning for a tour of some new trails on North Table.  We did an 11mile loop that ran like a roller coaster along the perimeter of the mesa.  It was a great run and would be a fun training loop.

Picnic in the Park Sunday:
Jen, Ander, and I ventured over Cheesman Park today for a bit of a picnic. I guess the park was named after Walter Cheesman who's family donated the money for the park's pavilion.  It  was originally bought by Denver for $200 in 1860 and developed as the Prospect Hill Cemetery and later Denver City Cemetery.  The new residents' families were eventually given a 90 day moratorium to remove the bodies so that the land could be rezoned as a park.  It's common knowledge that bodies still rest under the park. It's a creepy thougt but a good way to welcome October.  :)

Another Season and A Runner's Life for Me

"I will never do this again", is one of the persisting thoughts that paced me through the majority of my recent adventure in the Wasatch mountains. The excitement and intrigue in the distance had faded from the year before.  The reality of a hundred miles had hit and hit hard this year.  I was drained by the sun and exhausted from miles of questioning my training, pacing, nutrition,and every slight muscle twinge as I stumbled through yet another bit of the single track.  "Why was I out here?" and "What made me come?", I was searching for something and finding myself nothing but lost in the middle of the night with an empty stomach.  "What now?"

Nothing really changed for the rest of the race.  I sat back and turned off everything but the slow forward motion. I had no true idea of where I was pacing, but in my mind  I was in the range of 30 to 30+hours.  I came out on the southern side and ended up finishing around 26 hours.  I told my family at the end of the race I was done with the distance.  My family laughed a little and just  handed me an OK as they walked me to the car. I was proud of the finish they had pushed me to achieve, but at the end I felt like I had been run over by the race.  I guess that very same feeling has left me with a goal for next year.

I want to go out and work courses from start to finish with a lot more confidence.  On the second half of the course I got a chance to meet a lot of people as they passed.  The thing that was most inspiring was the runners who were out keeping pace and in great spirits even as the miles kept coming.  It was impressive to see people like Craig Lloyd cracking jokes and playing games with other runners as we pulled into Briton.  I wanted to keep up and ride off some of that energy, but I had already stopped giving a shit.  My head was hanging low, too low to see anything but just a few feet ahead of me on the trail.  I think 100 miles is as much mental endurance as it is physical.  Next year I plan to be the one with the energy.

Wasatch Front

A race that lives up to its name "100miles of heaven and hell".  I guess the heavenly part was finishing 100 miles of difficult terrain.  The hellish part of the race was 100 miles of being alone with your thoughts.  I can't thank my family enough for supporting me all the way to the finish.  

Hood River for Brad and Colleen's Wedding