I spent September putting in some easy, steady miles. I ran trails two or three times a week, made myself be more diligent about strides and core work, and ran five or six days a week. I was back to running 40-50 mpw comfortably. I had previously made the decision not to race Jelm this year because I did not feel like suffering on that climb. I also did not initially plan to race Always A Cowboy. Elizabeth and I had plans to be in Denver that weekend. However, that was the week of the epic deluge along the Front Range and we ended up having to stay put in Wyoming. Given the destruction and casualties caused by that terrible flooding, we were better off up here staying safe.
Since I was around that Saturday morning, I warmed-up from my house down to Undine Park, registered, and hopped in the race. I had no designed plan or goal, I was just there to run and catch up with folks. Chris took the lead from the start along with Kyle, and I tucked in at the back of a couple other runners rounding out the lead pack. We were running around 3:20/kilometer pace. Not blazing, but not bad at 7200 feet.
As we came out of the Corthell neighborhood and circled LaPrele Park, I decided I could maybe run a little faster. So around 4K, I took the lead and put a little gap on everyone. Kyle covered that gap quickly, and by 5K, had taken the lead from me and was putting space between us. I have done no speed work this year, so the 5:20/mile pace was feeling awfully quick. Kyle put about 75-100m on me. I thought, "I could really bear down and maybe reel him in, but it's going to hurt pretty bad." So I stayed where I was. I didn't lose any more ground to Kyle, but I refrained from trying to gain any back. In the end, Kyle took the "W" and I came home in second in 27:40. I was fairly happy with that.
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| Me and Mr. Schabron. |
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| Pretty lady enjoying a pretty evening view. |
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| Wonderful fall colors on display. |
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| Camp along the North Platte River. |
After that, I focused on getting as ready as I could for Silent Trails. Horsecow was in town and talking smack, Sandra stopped through for the weekend on her way out to Maine, and even ol' Josh Fuller was present from Portland. We had fun Friday night (not too much fun) and went up the hill in the morning for the race.
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| It just wouldn't be Silent Trails without some snow. |
While we were spared the new normal race day blizzard, we did not escape snow. It snowed up top two nights before, and most of it was still around. The sun was out come start time, so a little snow under foot (though 1-2 foot drifts in a few spots along the course) was not bad at all.
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| Another year, another start. L to R: Scott Foley, Horsecow a la Speedo, Nick Clark, Me, Chris Schabron. Photo: Wendy Perkins. |
Chris and I took the race out down Pole Creek before I settled back at the rear of a pack of about six runners, including Horsecow, Scott Foley, and Nick Clark, with Kyle and Nik Deininger right behind me. We stayed that way down Pole Creek and up toward The Bitch (Death Crotch). Chris, Scott, and another runner had taken off at that point. I started the climb at the front of the second group until I lost my hat by hitting my head on a low-hanging tree branch. I stopped to get it, allowing Horsecow to get in front of me. I sat on him through what we call False Summits 1 and 2, when I slowed to a walk through a deeper drift. That gave everyone else room to get by me, so I tucked back in at the back and suffered through the rest of the climb.
Leading up to the race, I had thought about strategy quite a bit. In years past, I have bombed down Pole Creek at 5:30/mile pace with Jason Delaney only to fall deeply into oxygen debt at the start of the climb. Once over my lactate threshold, I would spend the next few miles trying to recover enough to finish quickly.
Other years, I have gone out more conservatively and tried to hammer the climb. I would blow-up and again spend most of the next few miles trying to recover. So, this year, with no Delaney in the race, I knew things would go out a little slower. They did. I then told myself the best thing for me to do would be to just get up the climb. Don't waste any extra energy trying to hammer it. If that worked out and I didn't lose too much ground to other racers, I thought I could focus on the latter half of the race. In fact, the Wednesday before the race, I ran the first half of the course, including the climb, and then made myself tempo back to the Tie City. I felt good doing it, so I decided that would be the best strategy for me.
I got to the top with Horsecow having lost a little ground to Clarkie and Deininger. I started down onto Summit and immediately put a gap on Horsecow. I wouldn't see him again. As I started up the trail to the top of Brown's Landing, I was feeling pretty good, but was out in no-man's-land. I caught a glimpse of a neon green shirt through the trees ahead and knew Clark was right in front of me. And this year, I had no intention of letting him go.
Nick had one hell of a summer. He raced Western States, Vermont, Leadville, and Wasatch, and pretty much destroyed them all. Coming into Silent Trails, he was enjoying some well deserved time off. His fitness was not great. But I've never beaten Nick, and I wanted to badly. The guy is one of the best ultra runners out there, someone I look up to, and while he wasn't fit and running a race 1/10th the distance of his specialty, I still wanted to put my name in front of his on the results page.
I latched onto him at the top of Brown's. He took off down to the landing and I went with him. I wanted to stay on his shoulder and see what would happen. As we started up toward Headquarters, we caught another runner named Tyler. We came off the Overlook and onto Headquarters in a closely bunched group of three. I was trying to decide when to make a move while waiting to see if Clark was going to make a move. As we approached the junction with Summit, I was fiddling with my sunglasses when Nick made a one step move around us and went. I looked up and saw his reason for doing so: we had caught a blown-up Scott Foley.
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| Tyler, me, and Clarkie on Headquarters. Photo: Wendy Perkins. |
Clark went and I thought, "Shit. I let him get a jump on me which is something I specifically did not want to do." I surged to catch up with him and we made it through the gate and around the turn up to Lower UW. It was there that I chose to make my move. I surged and kept pushing, trying to put as much space between the two of us as I could before Nick chose to hammer and take me out. However, Nick didn't press, and before I knew it, I was running up on Deininger. Coming into the campground and back onto the dirt road, I knew I had Clark beat. I thought about really pressing and trying to catch Nik, but I knew he wasn't about to let me get around him and we were also running out of real estate in which to make that kind of move. So I strode in 4th overall, ahead of Nick Clark and Horsecow.
Mr. Schabron, unknown to me, put over two minutes on the rest of field and brought home the victory for the Hungry Dogs. He ran the best race I've ever seen him run. This does mean, however, that I am now gunning for him. This is not over.
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| Hungry Dogs. |
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| Fuller, Horsecow, Schabby, and me. |
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| Stalwart crew. |
One person who gets it is Elizabeth. A couple months ago, she decided to sign up for the Denver Rock N' Roll Half-Marathon. I was initially worried that she was doing it to appease me in some way, but she assured me it was something she wanted to do for herself. So she trained diligently, getting up at 5am to get out and run. She worked her butt off. She set a goal, worked hard at it, and watched it come to fruition.
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| My first crewing gig. I owe her many more. |
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| Oh, and Frank Shorter started the race. |
We went down to Denver Saturday for the pre-race expo and packet pick-up. Sunday morning, we rolled downtown for the race. Elizabeth was excited and ready to go! Her cousin Brian and I watched the start and then hoofed it up towards City Park to see her come around right after mile ten. She did so with a smile on her face.
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| Happy runner. Beautiful gal. |
I am very proud of her. She crushed her goal and had fun. That's the most important thing.
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| Happy finisher! |
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| Brian and me with the champ. |
