How long does it take for a broken tailbone to heal?
6 months.
I am certain I broke my coccyx while sandboarding last October. I didn't get it checked out, but I had all the classic signs. For 2 straight weeks, it hurt like hell getting up out of a chair. I would 'string my errands' together to minimize the number of times I got up to do something. Sitting down didn't really hurt, just getting up or shifting position.
After that, I just had constant reminders when getting up, shifting positions, or sitting in the exact wrong position. This got better over time, but for no less than six months, I could feel a dull pain occasionally during the day, and every once in awhile it would catch me off-guard and I would wince.
I read people's similar injuries being painful for months, years, or even lifetimes.
Happily, after April, though, it went away completely. Also, it didn't really affect running or anything else much. Slight soreness when bike riding, but tolerable. Never knew if running or bike riding would make it worse, or if it would affect my stride and lead to other injuries, but it didn't. I know I ran some that week, and I'm sure I hiked the next day.
So there you have it, just putting that out there for future Google-ability. Broken coccyx? Don't despair, keep doing stuff as long as it doesn't make it hurt worse.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Ice Lake Basin
Upper and Lower Ice Lake Basin Hike
~7 miles
~2200 ft elevation gain
~4.5 hours hiking
Ice Lakes Basin is a popular hike off of Mineral Creek Rd. just north of Silverton, and with good reason: for an easy to moderate effort, one can be surrounded by absolutely sublime beauty.
A couple miles north of Silverton, take the Mineral Creek Rd. (towards the campground) for about 5 miles. This dirt road is passable for passenger cars. Being the 4th of July, we saw plenty of other people camping along the road or near the river, so roadside car camping or short backpacking can lead to good campsites.
After about 5 miles, park on the right, at the TH. The trail climbs steadily and switchbacks through the trees. As you hear a rush of water approaching, you will be below a sizeable waterfall. A social trail leads straight up, but the main trail crosses the stream, switchbacks on the left side, and ultimately pops out at the top of the waterfall.
Now your hike weaves in and out of the forest, and you begin to have views of the surrounding mountains and any wildflowers. Here, at the beginning of July, wildflowers were just starting to show themselves, but it was a mere preview of what the end of July would look like.
Soon, the views open up to lower Ice Lake Basin itself. The lake here is clouded with life, and reflects dark green, but the real story is the basin itself: wildflowers, streams, mountains in every direction, and weeping walls of rock. Stand here, spin around, and pretend you're in any movie that's panning the most beautiful landscape you've ever seen, or just sit and contemplate your good fortune. If you're tired, you could end your hike in this gorgeous area, and it would be a nice place for a picnic.
If you choose to go to the upper basin, it's only around a mile further. Making your way through the basin, there are some short shoe-wetting rivulets to hope across.
As you climb above the lower basin, you get another vantage point of the land you just crossed.
At the far edge, you'll see a trail heading up to the left. The trail does steepen a bit here, I believe it's another 600-700 feet of climbing. A couple ridges tease you before you finally crest the top. The upper basin is spectacular, and has a different feel than the lower basin: rather than the verdant, vibrant hues of plant life below, this basin celebrates rock and mineral, and this lake is sparkling, clear, and blue. Be careful of the steep dropoffs from shore.
We spent a memorable morning here, but saw more than a few backpackers who spent the evening in the lower basin. Lucky! This is truly a magical place.
Handies Peak: Grizzly Gulch Up, American Basin Down
Handies Peak
Grizzly Gulch Up, American Basin Down
~11 miles, 3650 elevation gain (4.5 miles is dirt road connector, see map)
7 hours
Grizzly Gulch Basin and American Basin are two of the prettiest places in the state, with a gorgeous but laid back mountain, Handies Peak, separating them. While the easy way is to drive a car up to the American Basin TH, the most scenery-packed way is to hike up Grizzly Gulch, and down American Basin. I would also suggest going in this exact direction, for several reasons.
First, the view of Handies from Grizzly Gulch is more splendid.
That is, the East Face presents itself as more impressive, while the western route sneaks through a blocked view that doesn't properly present a 14000 foot mountain.
Also, the route along the East Face takes a nifty direction onto a grassy bench before the summit ridge, before rising up along talus to the ridge itself. This exploitation of the surrounding area is better appreciated when going up, and the only touch of Class 2 on this route -- the summit ridge -- is certainly easier when going up.
Finally, this clockwise direction puts the Cinammon Pass road section at the end of your journey, where you're sufficiently protected below treeline and with some vehicle traffic in case of a weather emergency.
In sum, I hope I have sold this route as a fun loop alternative to the more common standard peakbagging route from the American Basin TH, which involves more driving, misses the beauty of the Grizzly Gulch side, and doesn't even yield a minimally satisfying 3000 feet of climbing.
Anyway, J and I found easy, free camping on a Friday night at the Grizzly Gulch TH, just past the restroom and old cabin, complete with a firepit. We got to this TH just fine with our trusty stock 4-cylinder Outback. There were a fair number of other tents, but it was sufficiently quiet, and we slept well.
I should mention, in the way up, we stopped at a Starbucks for the first time in months, and they had coupons for their new-ish instant coffee. I forgot to pack coffee, so this was a fortuitous development for my caffeine addiction. I got up early and made some coffee and oatmeal. Hungrily, I ate a couple packs of oatmeal, and half of Jess's, who didn't have as much of an appetite (poor girl). As you might imagine, this came back to haunt me...
6AM, we headed up the trail, with gorgeous views of Redcloud behind us.
This being the first week of July, we enjoyed some early blooming of wildflowers and general verdancy, though not yet near the wildflower peak.
We kept our eye out for some weather disturbances brought all the way out from remnants of hurricane Alex. Clouds formed and moved swiftly over the Peak, but nothing got pushed high enough to become threatening. We followed the clear and obvious trail above treeline, into the basin, before hooking right/North around a rise before heading up. BTW, Roach refers to going "off trail" at this point, suggesting the trail dead-ends at a lake, but at this time, the most obvious trail is the trail to the summit.
We encountered maybe 3-4 parties total on the way up, either taking a break or visible (or audible) in front of us.
Then, the summit was achieved:
With a belated nod to Canada Day (July 1), I slaked my thirst as a veritable Bizarro Brownie:
After lingering on the summit for a half hour or so, with a rotation of up to 6 others, we headed down to enjoy American Basin and the lakes below.
This trail was well-maintained, easily runnable, but more crowded. I enjoyed running down sections while waiting for J. However, my stomach was beginning to hurt, badly, enough that I removed my camera from my neck so it didn't press against my stomach. I needed a bathroom, and secretly hoped there was one at the American Basin TH. But I still enjoyed the scenery, of budding wildflowers, sheer rock walls, waterfalls, and streams.
Finally, we made it to the TH, but no bathroom, so I ventured into the woods, and returned a new man, feeling much better! I was able to enjoy the rest of the hike. We had a few drops but no threat of storms. Many 4-wheelers and various motorized folks went by, obviously having rented something from some local "adventure" company, but I couldn't help but think about what they were missing.
Anyway, made our way back to camp, enjoying a nice loop hike. Definitely a recommended route in a beautiful area! The only regret was staring at the gorgeous Redcloud Peak for an hour or so as we walked down the road...such a beautiful area, where we'll definitely be back!
Quick Thoughts on Hardrock Course
I know a few folks are headed out to Hardrock this week -- good luck Brownie and NMP with Nick Clark pacing! Wow, what an awesome course. So my wife and I hiked the Handies section of the course, as well as part of Ice Lakes Basin, purely out of interest in doing beautiful hikes, but we couldn't help seeing the Hardrock 100 flags stuck in the ground. Had I thought ahead, I could have stashed a PBR up there! I hadn't thought specifically about doing the race, but after hanging out in Silverton, that course is really growing on me. That, and maybe a dozen or so folks asking, "Are you doing Hardrock next week?" as we talked about running or asked about hiking information.
You guys are lucky, here's to good weather, and have fun!
Some general observations:
Handies Section
1. Top of Handies is snow-free. There is a cornice on the American Basin side, but it is "off-the-trail"/completely avoidable.
2. The only snow at all on the Handies section is on the A-Basin side, where there are very short patches (4-5 steps) not even worth thinking about.
3. CC would seem slightly better for running Handies, but off of the main ridge, the whole thing is runnable.
4. Going up A-Basin, you don't really see the Handies summit for awhile. Just keep going up!
5. Going from the summit block along the summit ridge, there are a variety of social trails through talus. Dropping lower towards the Grizzly Gulch Basin gets you out of the wind quicker -- it all goes the same place.
6. Going off the summit ridge-- besides an incredible view -- you have a slightly steep scree section. I'd go easy here -if- you wanted to stay on the trail, just a few minutes. There are marked flags that show switchbacks through the scree, and social trails/footprints that go straight down. You could bomb straight down the scree if you were careful, the "trail" itself is also loose and somewhat arbitrary. It's dry and loose, fairly consistent (no big rocks, hidden snow, ice, etc.)
7. Tons of water on both sides of Handies, esp. the Grizzly Gulch side.
8. Wildflowers are starting to pop, not peak yet but still should be amazing
9. Trail is well-marked all the way up A-Basin and down Grizzly Gulch once you're off the summit. Nice and runnable. Go for it! Just be sure to turn around and look at Handies once in awhile -- this view is more impressive.
Ice Lakes Section
We hiked up the Ice Lakes trail to the lower and upper basin. I heard that the trail skirted through the lower basin, and sure enough, we saw some flags on the trail. Wow, this course really hits some amazingly beautiful places!
However, I was personally a little confused where Hardrock Trail went. Since I was looking for the trail going "backwards" (down from the basin), I surely might have missed it, but just wanted to let you know, be careful here.
Looking at the course description: Mile 13.0 is obvious. I saw where the singletrack trail came up and intersected the switchbacks of the New Ice Lake Trail. BTW, the Ice Lake Trail is very runnable. Now I'm reading the course for Mile 13.2: "Original Island Lake Trail...The first 100 yards may be difficult to find depending on vegetation"
I didn't see where this trail went. Once I saw flags on the Ice Lake trail, I turned around and looked for where the HR course diverted, and I didn't see it. Granted, I didn't go back up to look too much -- just saying keep your eyes open!
Other than that, no mud or snow on this short section I saw -- just wildflowers and amazing views.
You guys are lucky, here's to good weather, and have fun!
Some general observations:
Handies Section
1. Top of Handies is snow-free. There is a cornice on the American Basin side, but it is "off-the-trail"/completely avoidable.
2. The only snow at all on the Handies section is on the A-Basin side, where there are very short patches (4-5 steps) not even worth thinking about.
3. CC would seem slightly better for running Handies, but off of the main ridge, the whole thing is runnable.
4. Going up A-Basin, you don't really see the Handies summit for awhile. Just keep going up!
5. Going from the summit block along the summit ridge, there are a variety of social trails through talus. Dropping lower towards the Grizzly Gulch Basin gets you out of the wind quicker -- it all goes the same place.
6. Going off the summit ridge-- besides an incredible view -- you have a slightly steep scree section. I'd go easy here -if- you wanted to stay on the trail, just a few minutes. There are marked flags that show switchbacks through the scree, and social trails/footprints that go straight down. You could bomb straight down the scree if you were careful, the "trail" itself is also loose and somewhat arbitrary. It's dry and loose, fairly consistent (no big rocks, hidden snow, ice, etc.)
7. Tons of water on both sides of Handies, esp. the Grizzly Gulch side.
8. Wildflowers are starting to pop, not peak yet but still should be amazing
9. Trail is well-marked all the way up A-Basin and down Grizzly Gulch once you're off the summit. Nice and runnable. Go for it! Just be sure to turn around and look at Handies once in awhile -- this view is more impressive.
Ice Lakes Section
We hiked up the Ice Lakes trail to the lower and upper basin. I heard that the trail skirted through the lower basin, and sure enough, we saw some flags on the trail. Wow, this course really hits some amazingly beautiful places!
However, I was personally a little confused where Hardrock Trail went. Since I was looking for the trail going "backwards" (down from the basin), I surely might have missed it, but just wanted to let you know, be careful here.
Looking at the course description: Mile 13.0 is obvious. I saw where the singletrack trail came up and intersected the switchbacks of the New Ice Lake Trail. BTW, the Ice Lake Trail is very runnable. Now I'm reading the course for Mile 13.2: "Original Island Lake Trail...The first 100 yards may be difficult to find depending on vegetation"
I didn't see where this trail went. Once I saw flags on the Ice Lake trail, I turned around and looked for where the HR course diverted, and I didn't see it. Granted, I didn't go back up to look too much -- just saying keep your eyes open!
Other than that, no mud or snow on this short section I saw -- just wildflowers and amazing views.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Silverton Blue Ribbon 10k: Bridesmaid, or FTW?
The Silverton Blue Ribbon 10k race was a fun time with a little bit of everything -- pavement, dirt, hills, and water crossings -- all at 9300 feet. Spending my first time in Silverton, this race also had a few notable firsts for me: first time being attacked by a dog during a race, and first time finishing a public race higher than 3rd place. So, how did it all play out?
It began with waking up in the woods on Kendall Mountain, with the sun not yet clearing the mountains enough to reach our campsite. Our car window was frosted, and I put on several layers and moved around stiffly in the cold as I boiled water for coffee....Nay, actually, it began the day before, actually, hiking Handies Peak for 7 hours, and then sampling ethanol wares from Silverton Brewery and Montaya Rum Distillery; tapering and carbo-loading, as it were.
Back to the morning: J and I ambled out of the woods, into the sunlight, and made our way out to Memorial Park at the edge of town, plenty early for the 7:30AM start. It turns out there was a 2k, 5k, and 10k, all starting together in the grass field at the park. J was doing the 5k, and since it was advertised as being on paved and dirt roads, I kind of assumed it might be much of the flat roads in town, but this ended up being wrong -- whoops! The course went across the field to a non-trivial paved uphill, then dropping onto the dirt road parallel to the river for the rest of it. All 3 races were out-and-backs. Anyway, we hung out, nonchalant, at the start, ready to ditch extra layers at the last minute.
I lined up a few rows back, next to a guy with an unleashed dog named Marley, who wandered throughout the crowd and didn't much care to listen to his master, but also was a friendly dog Who Did Not Attack Me. The starter got us ready, and fired a legitimate 7:30 wake-up shot that echoed off the cliff walls, and we were off. Taking off like a shot in the lead: Marley the dog, who zigzagged around us and then tore off into nearby fields before circling the runners again.
Otherwise, there was enough room to quickly find a good spot without too much trouble or weaving. I set my breathing on 10k-autopilot before I even needed the oxygen, and we hit the hill. One guy was pulling away slightly, while I was near two other guys but reeling them in up the hill. I felt great and it was nice to be pulling away from the crowd.
Soon enough, near the top of the hill, I caught these 2 guys and passed with a slight wave and a "Hey." I felt good about my pace, maybe a little fast but not uncomfortable, and they felt good about theirs, as neither gave chase. I thought we might be continuing up the paved road, which would have been a sizeable hill, but saw orange flags that branched us on a downhill to the dirt river road. Soon after that, we hit the 2k turnaround, and I got my first split at 3:56 for 1k. Considering the uphill, and that I figured on low 40s to 45 minutes based on previous results, it was a little fast but manageable, and since I had a gap on the guys behind me, I consciously slowed a tick. I still had contact with the guy in front of me, but he was consistently pulling away. I could only hope he was running a 5k pace, not a 10k.
The river road was quiet and cool, and went right near our camping area, so I felt almost like I was running past "home" and something slightly familiar, which was nice. It was a gradual uphill, with enough rocks, ruts, and puddles in the road to force you to pay at least a little attention. An occasional sleepy walker or waking camper was on the side of the road, but for the most part it was a peaceful solo morning run by myself. Except for all the people chasing me, and that one guy ahead.
Finally, we got near the 5k turnaround...where I saw the guy ahead of me turn around. Sweet! Now I was in the threshold of the unknown: leading a public footrace. I just focused on keeping a consistent pace, and not doing anything stupid. I hit the 2.5k mark at 10:25 or so. With a downhill return suggesting an even or negative split, that seemed good for my goal of low 40s.
However, the 10k had one surprise in it that the other distances didn't: a stream running solidly across the road. Ankle-deep, not enough rocks to cross in the immediate vicinity, but no time! I've practiced this enough before -- splash, splash, splash, splash...4 or 5 steps that soaked each foot, each road shoe, and each Target White POCS (Plain Old Cotton Sock). Exiting the stream, my feet felt like cement, and I slowed noticeably. I wondered if I had missed an easier crossing and would soon be passed by dry-socked rivals. I listened for the next runners to splash behind me, but didn't hear anything above the general murmur of the river.
Onward and upward on squishy feet. After 20 minutes, saw a camper on the side of the road but knew it was too early for a turnaround. Instead, it was a guy with 2 loose dogs which didn't like runners. They barked and circled around me, I slowed and dodged but didn't stop, hoping they'd back off but also wondering if this was making them more angry. One of the dogs essentially jumped up on my side a few times, and clawed and tugged at my waist. Eventually, as the guy was trying to get control of them, I got out of the dogs' self-declared personal zone, and they backed off.
Not long after this, I saw the turnaround. A guy hurriedly ran over and got some water ready. I hadn't planned on anything, but I kind of splashed water up at my face, drinking a little, as it didn't cost any time. I was around 21:25 or so now. Now the moment of truth: how far back were the other guys, and would the dogs attack again?
The guys weren't that far back, maybe 20 or 30 seconds, but I hadn't really checked my watch as I was focused on the dogs. Fortunately, they were leashed up on the return trip. I ran more easy and relaxed on the way back, probably the same pace but easier effort. I didn't let myself look back, I just focused on moving ahead. A stream of well-wishers were still approaching -- I've never been in the position of being "that guy" that's leading and heading back. Pretty cool, but more work to be done, as I hit the stream again. There were a couple of guys slowly picking there way maybe 15 feet above the stream, but I didn't see many rocks up there, so I stuck with what worked the first time, but with a clapping and smiling audience this time.
My feet were cement blocks again, which meant that they had actually dried off pretty much on the way back. I didn't hear a splash behind me, so I still had a decent lead, but I was getting tired. I reached the 5k turnaround and asked, "Can you see anyone chasing me?" They didn't really 'get' my question in time. Ugh, I was starting to feel it. I thought I might slow down enough to make the next guy do more of the work, this is the first time I've ever understood something like that. But I kept reminding myself that he must be hurting, too. Finally, back onto the road, around the 1k mark, where we had to re-climb before dropping to the finish. I peeked backward, and cursed audibly.
Now we were going up the hill, and my will was draining. I heard footsteps getting closer. I was tired. 2nd place would still be a great finish, and my time was better than expected. All the negative thoughts. Like Captain Yossarian, I couldn't help wondering why all these people whom I've never met were chasing me. Then I thought about all the brave men and women doing brave things for our country, and even more brave men and women doing stupid things for our country, and stupid men and women doing brave things for our country, before finally settling on stupid people doing stupid things, which is where runners generally fit in. Along those lines, I thought about the WS reports and all those great battles amongst 100 miles -- surely I could muster something in this little 6-miler.
I thought about having to blog about a 2nd-place finish vs. winning.
So as we approached the top of the hill, I surged, and then hit the downhill, letting gravity take me down in big strides, and then using every muscle to go faster. I saw the park and the finish line, but couldn't find an orange flag or any people marking the turn into the park. I almost freaked out and ran the road around the park, before I remembered the pre-race words: "All races are out-and-back." That means I had to sprint straight across the field, after crossing on some mud that was clearly marked by yellow tape. Deja vu, as I remembered the crossing. Now it was a sprint across the field, as I pumped my arms, knife-like, and felt like I kept accelerating all the way to the finish line.
I was not passed.
I finished 3 seconds ahead of John Beard, from Austin, TX, but who has spent the last month in Colorado, and is running Hardrock next weekend. A great race that pushed me faster than a mere watch would have -- it was a blast to run through a finish line without even thinking about the actual time. I appreciate that push from him, and wish him the best at HR!
My wife was there, she had only been there a few minutes and got to see the sprint to the finish. She said she was yelling for me to keep going in case I didn't know there was a guy that close behind me!
We stuck around for the rest. No trinkets, just breakfast-for-2 at the Bent Elbow, which is just what we needed, along with an electronic subscription to the local newspaper, which I probably don't need as much, but certainly enjoy anyway.
Granted, it's all about who shows up on race day, but for today it was myself and John. From what I can tell, winning times are generally in the 40s. I had to check the records, but this is a 10k PR for me, as I guess my previous PR was 59-something. Whoops! To be fair, that was on a trail, on a hot day, lots of hills, just weeks after I kinda started running. (To be unfair, though, it was 9000 feet lower, in San Diego) And, I've done 25 laps on the track out of curiosity before -- maybe it's time to do that again.
Anyway, this course is a fun mix of hills, trail, scenic dirt road, water crossings, and dogs. Definitely one to check out if you're in the San Juans for the 4th of July.
Thanks for reading!
It began with waking up in the woods on Kendall Mountain, with the sun not yet clearing the mountains enough to reach our campsite. Our car window was frosted, and I put on several layers and moved around stiffly in the cold as I boiled water for coffee....Nay, actually, it began the day before, actually, hiking Handies Peak for 7 hours, and then sampling ethanol wares from Silverton Brewery and Montaya Rum Distillery; tapering and carbo-loading, as it were.
Back to the morning: J and I ambled out of the woods, into the sunlight, and made our way out to Memorial Park at the edge of town, plenty early for the 7:30AM start. It turns out there was a 2k, 5k, and 10k, all starting together in the grass field at the park. J was doing the 5k, and since it was advertised as being on paved and dirt roads, I kind of assumed it might be much of the flat roads in town, but this ended up being wrong -- whoops! The course went across the field to a non-trivial paved uphill, then dropping onto the dirt road parallel to the river for the rest of it. All 3 races were out-and-backs. Anyway, we hung out, nonchalant, at the start, ready to ditch extra layers at the last minute.
I lined up a few rows back, next to a guy with an unleashed dog named Marley, who wandered throughout the crowd and didn't much care to listen to his master, but also was a friendly dog Who Did Not Attack Me. The starter got us ready, and fired a legitimate 7:30 wake-up shot that echoed off the cliff walls, and we were off. Taking off like a shot in the lead: Marley the dog, who zigzagged around us and then tore off into nearby fields before circling the runners again.
Otherwise, there was enough room to quickly find a good spot without too much trouble or weaving. I set my breathing on 10k-autopilot before I even needed the oxygen, and we hit the hill. One guy was pulling away slightly, while I was near two other guys but reeling them in up the hill. I felt great and it was nice to be pulling away from the crowd.
Soon enough, near the top of the hill, I caught these 2 guys and passed with a slight wave and a "Hey." I felt good about my pace, maybe a little fast but not uncomfortable, and they felt good about theirs, as neither gave chase. I thought we might be continuing up the paved road, which would have been a sizeable hill, but saw orange flags that branched us on a downhill to the dirt river road. Soon after that, we hit the 2k turnaround, and I got my first split at 3:56 for 1k. Considering the uphill, and that I figured on low 40s to 45 minutes based on previous results, it was a little fast but manageable, and since I had a gap on the guys behind me, I consciously slowed a tick. I still had contact with the guy in front of me, but he was consistently pulling away. I could only hope he was running a 5k pace, not a 10k.
The river road was quiet and cool, and went right near our camping area, so I felt almost like I was running past "home" and something slightly familiar, which was nice. It was a gradual uphill, with enough rocks, ruts, and puddles in the road to force you to pay at least a little attention. An occasional sleepy walker or waking camper was on the side of the road, but for the most part it was a peaceful solo morning run by myself. Except for all the people chasing me, and that one guy ahead.
Finally, we got near the 5k turnaround...where I saw the guy ahead of me turn around. Sweet! Now I was in the threshold of the unknown: leading a public footrace. I just focused on keeping a consistent pace, and not doing anything stupid. I hit the 2.5k mark at 10:25 or so. With a downhill return suggesting an even or negative split, that seemed good for my goal of low 40s.
However, the 10k had one surprise in it that the other distances didn't: a stream running solidly across the road. Ankle-deep, not enough rocks to cross in the immediate vicinity, but no time! I've practiced this enough before -- splash, splash, splash, splash...4 or 5 steps that soaked each foot, each road shoe, and each Target White POCS (Plain Old Cotton Sock). Exiting the stream, my feet felt like cement, and I slowed noticeably. I wondered if I had missed an easier crossing and would soon be passed by dry-socked rivals. I listened for the next runners to splash behind me, but didn't hear anything above the general murmur of the river.
Onward and upward on squishy feet. After 20 minutes, saw a camper on the side of the road but knew it was too early for a turnaround. Instead, it was a guy with 2 loose dogs which didn't like runners. They barked and circled around me, I slowed and dodged but didn't stop, hoping they'd back off but also wondering if this was making them more angry. One of the dogs essentially jumped up on my side a few times, and clawed and tugged at my waist. Eventually, as the guy was trying to get control of them, I got out of the dogs' self-declared personal zone, and they backed off.
Not long after this, I saw the turnaround. A guy hurriedly ran over and got some water ready. I hadn't planned on anything, but I kind of splashed water up at my face, drinking a little, as it didn't cost any time. I was around 21:25 or so now. Now the moment of truth: how far back were the other guys, and would the dogs attack again?
The guys weren't that far back, maybe 20 or 30 seconds, but I hadn't really checked my watch as I was focused on the dogs. Fortunately, they were leashed up on the return trip. I ran more easy and relaxed on the way back, probably the same pace but easier effort. I didn't let myself look back, I just focused on moving ahead. A stream of well-wishers were still approaching -- I've never been in the position of being "that guy" that's leading and heading back. Pretty cool, but more work to be done, as I hit the stream again. There were a couple of guys slowly picking there way maybe 15 feet above the stream, but I didn't see many rocks up there, so I stuck with what worked the first time, but with a clapping and smiling audience this time.
My feet were cement blocks again, which meant that they had actually dried off pretty much on the way back. I didn't hear a splash behind me, so I still had a decent lead, but I was getting tired. I reached the 5k turnaround and asked, "Can you see anyone chasing me?" They didn't really 'get' my question in time. Ugh, I was starting to feel it. I thought I might slow down enough to make the next guy do more of the work, this is the first time I've ever understood something like that. But I kept reminding myself that he must be hurting, too. Finally, back onto the road, around the 1k mark, where we had to re-climb before dropping to the finish. I peeked backward, and cursed audibly.
Now we were going up the hill, and my will was draining. I heard footsteps getting closer. I was tired. 2nd place would still be a great finish, and my time was better than expected. All the negative thoughts. Like Captain Yossarian, I couldn't help wondering why all these people whom I've never met were chasing me. Then I thought about all the brave men and women doing brave things for our country, and even more brave men and women doing stupid things for our country, and stupid men and women doing brave things for our country, before finally settling on stupid people doing stupid things, which is where runners generally fit in. Along those lines, I thought about the WS reports and all those great battles amongst 100 miles -- surely I could muster something in this little 6-miler.
I thought about having to blog about a 2nd-place finish vs. winning.
So as we approached the top of the hill, I surged, and then hit the downhill, letting gravity take me down in big strides, and then using every muscle to go faster. I saw the park and the finish line, but couldn't find an orange flag or any people marking the turn into the park. I almost freaked out and ran the road around the park, before I remembered the pre-race words: "All races are out-and-back." That means I had to sprint straight across the field, after crossing on some mud that was clearly marked by yellow tape. Deja vu, as I remembered the crossing. Now it was a sprint across the field, as I pumped my arms, knife-like, and felt like I kept accelerating all the way to the finish line.
I was not passed.
I finished 3 seconds ahead of John Beard, from Austin, TX, but who has spent the last month in Colorado, and is running Hardrock next weekend. A great race that pushed me faster than a mere watch would have -- it was a blast to run through a finish line without even thinking about the actual time. I appreciate that push from him, and wish him the best at HR!
My wife was there, she had only been there a few minutes and got to see the sprint to the finish. She said she was yelling for me to keep going in case I didn't know there was a guy that close behind me!
We stuck around for the rest. No trinkets, just breakfast-for-2 at the Bent Elbow, which is just what we needed, along with an electronic subscription to the local newspaper, which I probably don't need as much, but certainly enjoy anyway.
Granted, it's all about who shows up on race day, but for today it was myself and John. From what I can tell, winning times are generally in the 40s. I had to check the records, but this is a 10k PR for me, as I guess my previous PR was 59-something. Whoops! To be fair, that was on a trail, on a hot day, lots of hills, just weeks after I kinda started running. (To be unfair, though, it was 9000 feet lower, in San Diego) And, I've done 25 laps on the track out of curiosity before -- maybe it's time to do that again.
Anyway, this course is a fun mix of hills, trail, scenic dirt road, water crossings, and dogs. Definitely one to check out if you're in the San Juans for the 4th of July.
Thanks for reading!
Independence Day in the San Juans
Just got back from a great whirlwind 3-day weekend in the San Juans. I'll post some teasers and some writeup as I have time, anxious to get some pictures up as well.
Highlights of Possible General Interest:
* Handies Peak Summit Attempt from Grizzly Gulch
* Silverton Blue Ribbon 10k, Rhubarb Festival, Parade and Fireworks
* Ice Lakes Basin Hike
* Good car camping spots
* Brewpubs, distilleries, restaurants, and bookstores
* Subaru turning it's first 100k miles: Where we were when it happened...and what happened at 99999
And other tales of intrigue, adventure, comedy, and tragedy -- elevated from middle-class irrelevance to faux newsworthiness -- right here on this blog!
Highlights of Possible General Interest:
* Handies Peak Summit Attempt from Grizzly Gulch
* Silverton Blue Ribbon 10k, Rhubarb Festival, Parade and Fireworks
* Ice Lakes Basin Hike
* Good car camping spots
* Brewpubs, distilleries, restaurants, and bookstores
* Subaru turning it's first 100k miles: Where we were when it happened...and what happened at 99999
And other tales of intrigue, adventure, comedy, and tragedy -- elevated from middle-class irrelevance to faux newsworthiness -- right here on this blog!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Support Central City Instead
Brownie pointed out that the Denver Post had an article today about the Black Hawk ban on riding a bicycle through town, so I'll post it for more Google results, if nothing else, on why Black Hawk remains a backwards town. A couple hundred Denver Post comments duke it out with the usual arguments on both sides, and there was a gathering in Denver.
About 100 bicyclists gathered at the state Capitol Tuesday to protest Black Hawk's ordinance. State Sens. Chris Romer and Greg Brophy were among the speakers.
Thank you Senators Romer and Brophy!
To be fair, we're talking about dismounting a half mile or so through town. Not the end of the world, and if you're not a regular cyclist, this might seem like we're making a big deal about nothing. But these are the troubling aspects:
* Arbitrary: Without any sort of "safety" analysis, the town decides to ban bikes, while still allowing giant buses and cars, for safety reasons in a dense area of pedestrians!
* Precedent: A single town shutting down bicycle traffic on a public highway, and getting away with it, can set this state and country backwards even further in solving its obesity, environmental, and traffic issues.
Taken together, this furthers the notion that cars are the default mode of travel, and bicycles are a recreational toy that needs to stay out of the way. Driving a mile to Walmart, riding an air-conditioned bus to a casino, getting home from work 2 minutes faster so you don't miss "The Bachelor," and shipping loads of useless crap across the country are the hallmarks of Progress -- the True American Right -- so bicycles be damned.
"We're hearing from bicyclists from England, Thailand to Australia who are asking how a city cannot let bicycles through," said Dan Grunig, executive director of Bicycle Colorado.
Not surprising to note incredulity from other nations. For as good as we've got it in Colorado, take a look abroad, where folks of all ages can safely use a bicycle regularly for short trips.
Bikes, here, are the vast minority -- I get that. So are healthy people. I'm not asking for a bike-Utopia, I'm just asking that we don't make stupid decisions that make it even harder to live a healthy life.
About 100 bicyclists gathered at the state Capitol Tuesday to protest Black Hawk's ordinance. State Sens. Chris Romer and Greg Brophy were among the speakers.
Thank you Senators Romer and Brophy!
To be fair, we're talking about dismounting a half mile or so through town. Not the end of the world, and if you're not a regular cyclist, this might seem like we're making a big deal about nothing. But these are the troubling aspects:
* Arbitrary: Without any sort of "safety" analysis, the town decides to ban bikes, while still allowing giant buses and cars, for safety reasons in a dense area of pedestrians!
* Precedent: A single town shutting down bicycle traffic on a public highway, and getting away with it, can set this state and country backwards even further in solving its obesity, environmental, and traffic issues.
Taken together, this furthers the notion that cars are the default mode of travel, and bicycles are a recreational toy that needs to stay out of the way. Driving a mile to Walmart, riding an air-conditioned bus to a casino, getting home from work 2 minutes faster so you don't miss "The Bachelor," and shipping loads of useless crap across the country are the hallmarks of Progress -- the True American Right -- so bicycles be damned.
"We're hearing from bicyclists from England, Thailand to Australia who are asking how a city cannot let bicycles through," said Dan Grunig, executive director of Bicycle Colorado.
Not surprising to note incredulity from other nations. For as good as we've got it in Colorado, take a look abroad, where folks of all ages can safely use a bicycle regularly for short trips.
Bikes, here, are the vast minority -- I get that. So are healthy people. I'm not asking for a bike-Utopia, I'm just asking that we don't make stupid decisions that make it even harder to live a healthy life.
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