Rainier - More to Come

I'm going to work on a full write-up this week of our Rainier trip last week.  Until then...

Mount Rainier Expedition - Beginning

I leave with Elizabeth tomorrow morning to make an attempt to summit Mount Rainier next Wednesday.  I'm excited to get back up in the Pacific Northwest. I haven't been in over six years.  

Excitement is the watchword.

I'll be back in the WYO in nine days.

I didn't take this picture.  I stole it from the interwebs.  I have no idea from where.

Happy Jack Endurance Races

The inaugural edition of an old classic, the Happy Jack Endurance Races, 24-hour, 12-hour, 6-hour, and 100-mile, brought an incredible experience for all participants and volunteers alike.  From crazy weather, to numerous wild animal sightings (some real, some fantasy), to injuries and physical and mental challenges, this event, brought to you courtesy of Journeyman Adventures, brought the goods.  In so many ways.


Alec and crew set up base camp Friday night for the Saturday morning start.  While they were hanging out that evening, a black bear moseyed down the trail next to camp.  Word of this would continually freak runners out (and convince them they were seeing bears on every lap) for the entire weekend.  Other notable wildlife sightings included several moose, deer, a supposed elk, a goshawk, and crazy runners.

Anxious for the start.  Photo by Wendy Perkins.

The races began Saturday morning in overcast, humid weather, with rain threatening.  After many weeks of record high temperatures, resulting in the combustion of forests all over the region, we were finally blessed with cooler temps and much needed rain.  While these conditions proved challenging, no one complained.  Everyone, I believe, was thankful to have any relief from the heat and flames.

Photo by Wendy Perkins.

Sam was the race's first casualty.  Elizabeth was excited to put her Wilderness First Responder/First Aid training to good use.  Everyone else is laughing at Sam for taking a digger in the first mile of the race.  Sam got the last laugh when he put in 36 miles.  Photo by Wendy Perkins.

I helped haul in supplies for the aid station in the morning, then hung out at base camp for a bit before I went home to nap a little before the 6pm start of the 6-hour race.  Around a quarter to four, it began to rain so hard in town that the sound of the rain drops pounding my roof woke me up from a pretty deep sleep.  I looked outside and realized my approach to the race would have to change.  I packed several changes of clothes and my rain jacket.  It was going to be a wet one, and with the temps falling (it was around 50 degrees when I started running), staying dry and warm was going to be an issue.


I got back up the hill and we started the six hours of ordeal.  I wanted to see if I could get a six-mile lap in per hour.  This depended on me not dilly-dallying at the aid stations and on how my hip would hold up.  While the hip has been doing quite a bit better, it isn't 100% and up until the race, I had only put, at longest, nine miles on it at once.


The first lap went by in a flash, though I did take a wrong turn and get off course.  The crew made fun of me for getting lost on my own trails, to which I responded, "I wasn't lost.  I knew exactly where I was.  It just wasn't where I was supposed to be."  Once I actually learned the course, things were pretty smooth.

Done with lap one.  Photo by Cassandra Driver.

I finished lap one in just over 49 minutes, which is right where I wanted to be.  I grabbed a bite and refilled my water bottle and was back out.  I felt the even-numbered laps were more difficult because we went up Pole Creek, down Haunted Forest, and up to base camp.  Odd numbered laps had the reverse, two downhills to one uphill.


Lap two also went by in 49 minutes, but I spent a little longer at base camp since I decided I needed to change clothes.  Elizabeth looked at me and asked, "Are you cold?"  I asked her, "Do I look cold?"  She shot back, "Yes!"  So I changed, and man was it nice to have on a dry shirt.


Lap three slowed me down a little since I started walking up Haunted Forest.  I also spent several minutes at the aid station talking with Alec (who had gone out on course to put up glowsticks) about the conditions of the trails given the constant downpour.  With darkness coming on, and with Haunted Forest becoming a treacherous mess of slick mud, Alec decided that if people wanted to run in one direction up that trail, then they could.  He didn't want people going down it and slipping and getting hurt.  

Trail?  Looks more like a creek.  Photo by Wendy Perkins.

I finished the third lap in 55 minutes.  I spent a little longer at base camp because, after 18 miles, I was getting a little tired.  I was having trouble getting enough water in me, since with the rain and cool temps, I didn't feel the need to drink as much as I should, and I was getting very hungry.  I was putting down over 200 calories per lap, but when I saw the pizza there at base camp, I just had to have a piece.  And so I began lap four with a slice of pepperoni in my hand.

Lap four would be the end for me.  I made it down Pole Creek to the creek crossing with no trouble, but as I started up Haunted Forest again, my hip finally gave up the ghost.  And when it went, it went completely.  I was getting little to no lift from it.  I walked up Haunted Forest, stretched at the aid station, and decided to do what jogging I could back to base camp where I could drop out.  That fourth lap took me nearly 75 minutes.  I got back to base camp and told Alec I was done.  I had covered 24 miles in pretty crappy conditions in 4:03 (that includes time spent at aid stations).  My hip gave me 20 really good miles and four really crappy ones.  Oh well, it's always nice to know where the limit is, and 20 miles, at this point in time, is a pretty good limit.  As it turns out, I won the race by default since no one else went out for another lap.  So, since I completed four laps the quickest, I was deemed the winner.  I feel bad about winning a six-hour race when I only ran four hours.

I think the amazing thing about races like this is the generosity that is present with everyone involved.  Elizabeth was blown away.  "I just can't get over how nice and encouraging everyone is."  Something about ultras brings out the best in people, even when some are in the depths of despair about how far they have to go and how hard it's going to be.  Sometimes all you need is someone to get you a bowl of soup and you're right back in it.  It was a great, well-executed event attended by incredible people.  An amazing experience not soon forgotten.  Here's looking forward to next year!

Adventuring

I've been trying to just be outside, out-and-a-bout, on the move, etc.  This summer, be it the heat, lack of rain, fire everywhere, smoke inhalation, whatever, is making me itch to go places, see things, drink beers in awesome locales, climb mountains, run trails, crash my bicicleta, get sunburned, bug bit, not shower for days on end, be a dirtbag, not wear shoes, take gigs worth of photos, write again, read in the shade, be inspired by others, love a woman, camp, drive across the country, breathe air, be happy.  Lot of hippie drivel, but my mind is wandering and lusting and running a thousand miles an hour.  There is all this before me, why not partake?


With that, I'm shifting away from the basics of outlined training since it's not something I find particularly interesting or satisfying at the moment, and moving more toward being outside with a little bit of focus.  I'll continue to keep track of general mileage since my compulsive side finds that hard to let go, but I'm not going to concern myself with specified training for this or that.  I just want to be outside, running, hiking, climbing, biking, what have you.  


With that, here are some pictures from recent good times.  I've been through four states (WY, CO, UT, AZ), two national parks (Grand Canyon and Zion), several national forests (Roosevelt, Medicine Bow-Routt, Arapaho, White River, Manti-La Sal, Fishlake, and Kaibab) seen great friends get married, enjoyed the company of old friends and new friends, been developing a great relationship, and am planning and looking forward to other adventures the rest of the summer and year.  If the world doesn't completely incinerate.

Rawah Wilderness, Colorado.

Blue Lake, Rawah Wilderness.

Awesome hiking buddy.

Laramie River, Rawah Wilderness.  Photo by Elizabeth Spaulding.

Unaweep Canyon and the Dolores River, Colorado.

Monument Valley, UT/AZ.

Marble Canyon and the Colorado River.

Colorado River.

Camping in the Manti-La Sal Forest, UT.

La Sal Range.

Grand Canyon, North Rim.

Gabe and Lunde enjoying the view.

Messing with Lunde.  Photo by Tanya Musgrave Kelley.

Grand Canyon from Cape Royal.

Wyoming alumni (L to R) Scott, Jacob, Gabe, Ryan J., Bret, Ryan L., me, Tami .  Photo by Tanya Musgrave Kelley.

Bret, me, Lunde.  Photo by Tanya Musgrave Kelley.

The Waldrons, Jannel and Bret.  Photo by Tanya Musgrave Kelley.

Gabe and I recreate Forrest Gump.  Photo by Ryan Lunde.

Happy Jack Endurance Races 2012

We are within two weeks of what is the inaugural running of the Happy Jack Endurance Races, formerly known as the 24 Hours of Laramie.  Journeyman Adventures is in charge now, and a great race and atmosphere should be present come race day.  Come join us crazy Wyoming folk for an old-school ultra party in the Laramie Mountains.  Here is an article about the race:

http://www.examiner.com/article/happy-jack-100-mile-and-happy-jack-24-12-6-trail-races-challenge-runners-july

Also, check out Journeyman Adventures for more information and registration. We hope to see you there!

Metallica - Orion

This is my favorite song.  Every note is in the exact right place.  This song has always made me want to run through walls and shed tears.  It's beautiful.


Inspiration can come from anywhere.  I get it from this song.  Every time I listen to it.

Week Ending June 10 - Philosophical Paradigm Shift

First things first.  I had a pretty good week last week.  I got out and did something everyday and strung together a few runs at the end of the week that all felt pretty good.  The hip has been feeling progressively better every run.  I'm going to continue with a couple of days worth of cross-training (biking, hiking, etc.) per week as well as stay on the core work and stretching.  Complacency regarding the small things is what leads to injuries, like, say, tearing up your hip flexor.


Here's the week:


Mon. June 4 - Rode 6 miles in :45 (8 mph).  Upper UW-Headquarters-Summit-Lower UW-Aspen-Pole Creek.  Nice little morning ride on my way back to Laramie from Cheyenne.


Tues. June 5 - Ran 8 miles in 1:01 (7:37 pace).  Ran over to The Wag to meet Rachel and Horsecow for a ride up to the trails.  Met the rest of the crew at Tie City and went down Pole Creek, up Aspen, out Lower UW to Summit, then took the cutoff over to Headquarters and came on in.  My hip bugged a little while climbing Aspen, but was pretty loose by the end of the run.


Wed. June 6 - Rode 7 miles in :45 (9.3 mph).  Did a big Summit-Browns loop.  Beautiful morning out there.  Talked to a guy at the trail head who appeared to have slept there in his car the previous evening.  He was out from California on his way to Lincoln to see his daughter who attends UNL.  He is not the first person I've seen "camping" at the trail head this summer.  I'm not sure that's legal, but the campground at Tie City has been closed for 2 or 3 summers now, so screw it.  


Thurs. June 7 - Ran 8 miles in 1:01 (7:37 pace).  Early morning (I was on trail before 7am) run at the Jack.  Did the Summit-Browns-Headquarters loop.  While the hip has been feeling consistently better, I've been cautious about pushing it too much.  Case in point, I normally run this loop counter-clockwise, climbing up the Overlook, Browns, and the backside of Summit.  Today, I went clockwise, limiting my time and distance climbing.  Seems to have been a good idea.


Fri. June 8 - Ran 9 miles in 1:12 (8:00 pace).  Double Black Diamond.  I absolutely love this trail.  It's ridiculously fun to run.  I had watched a video from Salomon about Kilian Jornet earlier in the day and I was nothing but inspired.  I had visions that I was running like he runs while on DBD.  I know, however, that I probably looked like a fat, slow, lumbering beast compared to Kilian, but it was a fantastic run, and I'll take what I can get at this point.


Sat. June 9 - 8 miles in 1:03 (7:52 pace).  I crewed the top aid station with Alec at Pilot Hill in the morning, and was so inspired by (and a little jealous of) all those hardy souls pushing it up the mountain that I had to go out and run.  I did a Pole Creek-Haunted Forest-Super Secret loop in 85 degree heat.  That, I didn't like so much.  The run was fine.

Yucking it up on Pilot Hill.  Photo: Alec Muthig.

Sun. June 10 - 8 miles in 2:30 (18:45 pace).  Medicine Bow Peak.  I got to Lake Marie at around 9am.  I had, fortunately, thought to bring warm clothes since it was about 25 degrees when I started.  It didn't get much warmer, especially thanks to a 30-35 mph wind.  

Southwest end of the Snowy Range from Lake Marie.

I started up the trail and made myself work pretty hard.  I wanted to see how quickly I could get to the top.  I alternately hiked and ran (downhill and flat sections) until I got to the top after a little over an hour.  It was a beautiful day in spite of the wind, and the views were nice and clear from 12,013 feet.

View of the Snowy Range from the summit of Medicine Bow Peak.

Pretty bundled up for June 10.  

I ran down the Lewis Lake side of the peak, and then went back to Lake Marie via the Lakes Trail.  That trail still had snow on it and was pretty sloppy in places.  It was also cool enough that a lot of water was still iced over, and I did manage to slip and fall about ankle deep into a little stream.  That was pretty fun.

I love these mountains.

Starting the Lakes Trail.  Old Main is the center peak.

After the hike, I drove into Centennial for the obligatory green chili pizza and PBR.  Pretty nice little Sunday morning.


Week's Totals:
Miles: 54 (41 run, 13 bike)
Time: 8:17 (6:47 run; 1:30 bike)


Year to Date: 906 (813 run; 70 bike; 23 hike) 
                    107:30 (94:26 run; 7:34 bike; 5:30 hike)


Now, to explain the "philosophical paradigm shift" of this posts' title.  Last week, I boasted that I would run Bighorn regardless of being injured and generally unprepared for a 50-miler.  However, after discussing it further with some people, I decided the best course of action is to sit this one out.  Live to fight another day.


I talked briefly with Nick Clark after Pilot Hill Saturday morning.  He wanted to know why I wasn't running, and I explained to him that I hurt my hip flexor sprinting at the end of the Horsetooth Half.  He looked at me quizzically and asked, "What were you sprinting for?"  My answer: "Ninth place."  Nick shook his head at me and asked, "Why?"  I didn't have an immediate answer.  After thinking about it later, I came to the conclusion that I sprinted for ninth place, essentially meaningless, because that's what I was raised to do.  


I started running track when I was in fourth grade.  Since the beginning, the objective was to win or place as high or beat as many people as possible.  My running has been rooted in competitiveness nearly my whole life.  You kicked at the end, you raced, competed, ran down who you could, and helped the team by scoring fewer (cross country) or more (track) points.  That's my background.  It's ingrained in me.  It's almost second nature to try to lay people out at the end.  Go for the jugular, so to speak.


Nick's borderline disgust at my explanation for kicking for ninth place made me realize something.  While Nick himself is a competitive runner, and a very successful one at that, he also is just a runner.  And one of the fundamental differences between the trail guys and the track/road guys was clear to me.  While I'm sure guys like Nick have that killer instinct to go for the win, they also recognize when a race is decided and move on.  Was there a difference between me getting ninth or tenth place at Horsetooth?  Of course not.


What I'm trying to say here is that I need to move away from being so competitive.  While I do desire to be fit and race well, I also would like to simply be running.  If I'm hurt because I pushed myself too hard by being too competitive, then I can't run period.  The past few weeks have really made me realize how much I need to run.  It's the core of who I am.  It's how I express myself.  It's my therapy.  It's perpetual, spiritual.  Back in college, when we joked about Sunday long runs being like religion, we really weren't too far off. And not being able to run has been emotionally and spiritually draining for me.  I need to do it.  So it's up to me to be smart about it and accept that it's okay to get tenth instead of ninth in a race.  Just enjoy the run itself.  Connect with it in that moment and enjoy it.  It doesn't need to be anything more than that.


I also talked with Coach Sanchez Saturday evening at the post-Pilot Hill potluck.  He and I had a great conversation over a beer (or two in my case).  I explained to him the injury situation and he told me to stay home.  "Ragan, how many times do I have to say there is a fine line between tough and stupid?"  He, of course, is right.  That man thinks of everything.  He and I also talked about the old days, the old teams, his days at Adams State in the 1970s and the crazy workouts Coach Vigil used to have them do (30x880yds with 220 jog rest!!!!), and, of course, the guys.  


"I used to see you finish runs and sit on the bench there in front of the field house and pay your respects to your teammate.  I know how close you and Kevin were," he said.  "I saw you out there and said, he's on the team.  I knew you were the guy I wanted.  I'm glad you stuck around."  Coach put a lot of faith in me for what, at the time, was no reason.  Then he stood up for me and gave me a chance.  Without that, I honestly doubt I'd still be running today.  Twelve years after I first met him, he still coaches me, still teaches me, still inspires me.  He still knows exactly what I need to hear exactly when I need to hear it.  


With that, I will stay home to live to fight another day.  In the meantime, I'm going out for some runs.  Don't know where, how far, or how fast, but that doesn't matter.  All that matters is the run.