You may have gathered that I'm in Tennessee for work. I'm doing a round of public meetings at the Big South Fork National River and Recreation Area - the South Fork of Cumberland River. It was not an easy process to get here.
Last Wednesday, there was a big hailstorm that went through DIA which took out 20 of Frontier Airlines fleet. It has been slightly organized chaos ever since. Thankfully at 9 am I checked my flight status and saw my 4:25 flight had been pushed to 10:15. By 5 pm it had been pushed to 11pm. We were lucky that our flight wasn't canceled, but I was tired from my birthday weekend in Steamboat and definitely had trouble containing my "Philly" when checking in and getting through security. We finally landed in Knoxville a little before 4am and were overwhelmingly happy to find one rental car company was still open at the airport. We hauled our 1.5 hours to our hotel, grabbed some complimentary breakfast being served (if they serve anything other than biscuits and gravy, I couldn't find it), and sacked out until noon. It was long, but I was thankful our meeting wasn't until 4.
Now, I have nothing against small towns, but I prefer towns with character. I think if I had to live here, it would be a very depressing life. The main area of town is just ugly strip mall after strip mall with the token anchor of Wal-Mart. It somewhat reminds me of Bill Bryson's description of Gatlinburg, but he delighted in its ugly splendor. In "The Lost Continent" Bryson searches for the perfect small town - I can tell him that Helenwood and Oneida aren't it. Although there is a local utopian town in nearby Rugby...
I'm excited to get into the park at bit tomorrow to explore off the beaten path and see the more scenic areas of Tennessee. I'm thankful that I am traveling with a co-worker who also wants to see the park and we are getting up early to do so. Also on the agenda will be a training run - pounding some pavement in the heat and humidity. I am feeling stronger every day and ready to kill the SF half. I've crossed the threshold from "ug, not ANOTHER run" to "ooh I like this - maybe I'll do another half...", so the training is getting more enjoyable by the day - especially when I get to do runs in new areas each week.
On the nutrition front, its hit or miss, but I went for yummy grilled chicken and didn't pick french fries as a side tonight at dinner. Avoiding fried food in rural TN is like trying avoid food on a stick at the MN state fair, but I'm doing what I can. If nothing else, we're staying in a dry county so the standard post-meeting beer (or two) isn't even an option! Which is good because my hotel replaced their gym with a couch, TV, and beer cooler. Utopia indeed.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Happy Anniversary, Denver
Exactly one year to the day I moved to Denver. Technically, we blasted Carbon Leaf's "Let Your Troubles Roll By" on our way into the Denver County line on July 13th, but had arrived a day early and stayed at a (bed-bug free) hotel that night.
My first year in Denver has been incredible. The weather for each and every season has been completely unusual and I'm told never to expect it to be that way again. While it normally snows in October, it was still 54 degrees in December. I think we barely had ten inches of snow in the city for the whole winter while the mountains got hammered with record snowpack. The spring was chilly without much rain, but we've been hammered by severe storms and heavy rainfall for the last two weeks. Everything is still green when it should be brown and crispy.
I've gotten the hang of the ski season, bought the 'wrong' ski pass, but skied great mountains anyhow. I've pre-purchased my 'right' ski pass for this year and am aiming to get in more weekends on the slopes.
I've adjusted to the altitude. Mostly. I've run the most I've ever run by myself, adopted healthier eating habits, and had a solid lifting routine for the first time in my life. I PR'd my 5k time and signed up for my first half marathon. I lost weight then good beer helped me put it back on.
I've completed a graduate degree and got my professional license. I got promoted.
I've had free time for the first time in four years but I'm the busiest I've ever been.
I've spent more money at REI than I care to even tally. But I've used that gear to spend cold nights warmed up in my sleeping bag, blown away by the view while peeing under the stars at 2am. I still have a list a mile long of the gear I still want to acquire.
I've summited my first 14'er and glacaded down a mountain. I've learned new words like post-hole and glacade. I've learned what altitude sickness feels like. I learned that when the bottom of the clouds go flat, get your butt off the mountain.
I got to travel to new parks and new states, both for work and play.
I got to go home and back to DC more times than I had even hoped for. I'll go back to DC twice more before 2012. Being far from these people and places didn't feel as distant as I was worried it might.
I've made amazing friends. I love my life.
My first year in Denver has been incredible. The weather for each and every season has been completely unusual and I'm told never to expect it to be that way again. While it normally snows in October, it was still 54 degrees in December. I think we barely had ten inches of snow in the city for the whole winter while the mountains got hammered with record snowpack. The spring was chilly without much rain, but we've been hammered by severe storms and heavy rainfall for the last two weeks. Everything is still green when it should be brown and crispy.
I've gotten the hang of the ski season, bought the 'wrong' ski pass, but skied great mountains anyhow. I've pre-purchased my 'right' ski pass for this year and am aiming to get in more weekends on the slopes.
I've adjusted to the altitude. Mostly. I've run the most I've ever run by myself, adopted healthier eating habits, and had a solid lifting routine for the first time in my life. I PR'd my 5k time and signed up for my first half marathon. I lost weight then good beer helped me put it back on.
I've completed a graduate degree and got my professional license. I got promoted.
I've had free time for the first time in four years but I'm the busiest I've ever been.
I've spent more money at REI than I care to even tally. But I've used that gear to spend cold nights warmed up in my sleeping bag, blown away by the view while peeing under the stars at 2am. I still have a list a mile long of the gear I still want to acquire.
I've summited my first 14'er and glacaded down a mountain. I've learned new words like post-hole and glacade. I've learned what altitude sickness feels like. I learned that when the bottom of the clouds go flat, get your butt off the mountain.
I got to travel to new parks and new states, both for work and play.
I got to go home and back to DC more times than I had even hoped for. I'll go back to DC twice more before 2012. Being far from these people and places didn't feel as distant as I was worried it might.
I've made amazing friends. I love my life.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Nutrition 101
To say I am frustrated would be an understatement. I am trying really hard to fuel my body correctly in order to complete hard, long workouts and still have a bit of a calorie deficit at the end of the day to shed some pounds. I am gaining. I have revamped what I eat - no more lunches out at work, and I've really worked to have protein at each meal. I barely drink anymore (July 3rd notwithstanding) and I switch up my workouts so I'm not just running (others include boxing, hiking, swimming, and riding) and I do strength training twice a week and yoga three times a week. I'm not quite sure what else I could be doing differently.
Yesterday, at the height of my frustration (I saw the race pictures from Saturday and they weren't flattering), I started tooling around the internets looking for some advice. I think I'm going to be back to logging until Europe and then if I'm still seeing no movement, I'm going to talk to a nutritionist.
Until then, I've beefed up my breakfast a bit - added a whole grain english muffin and a glass of milk to my 3/4 cup egg whites and cheese - 358 cals, 37.9 g protein. We'll see how full it keeps me. Certainly may help with what a bottomless pit I become in the afternoons!
Tomorrow I'm also going to have my trainer check my measurements and test my body fat again. I'm seriously hoping that if nothing else, those have changed. If they haven't, its going to be a pretty big blow.
Overall I know my endurance is better, I'm building more muscles, I'm healthier and, when I eat correctly, I have more energy. I am trying to be ok with just those benefits, but carrying around this gut deflates me from time to time (especially when I see the photographic evidence of it). Just need to push on and know I'm doing the right things.
Yesterday, at the height of my frustration (I saw the race pictures from Saturday and they weren't flattering), I started tooling around the internets looking for some advice. I think I'm going to be back to logging until Europe and then if I'm still seeing no movement, I'm going to talk to a nutritionist.
Until then, I've beefed up my breakfast a bit - added a whole grain english muffin and a glass of milk to my 3/4 cup egg whites and cheese - 358 cals, 37.9 g protein. We'll see how full it keeps me. Certainly may help with what a bottomless pit I become in the afternoons!
Tomorrow I'm also going to have my trainer check my measurements and test my body fat again. I'm seriously hoping that if nothing else, those have changed. If they haven't, its going to be a pretty big blow.
Overall I know my endurance is better, I'm building more muscles, I'm healthier and, when I eat correctly, I have more energy. I am trying to be ok with just those benefits, but carrying around this gut deflates me from time to time (especially when I see the photographic evidence of it). Just need to push on and know I'm doing the right things.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
OFFICIAL race results
I think from now on I'll say I came in 36th instead of last. And I was right, two 10k'ers dropped out and ended with the 5k finishers (including the one woman I know was running right around the same pace I was).
42 Miles
Sunday morning I woke up a bit late (11:30!) but decided to go out for my long ride anyhow. My goal was to ride down to the Chatfield Reservoir - a mere 45 miles round trip. Morgan had assured me it was a flat ride and I happily loaded my bike with food stuffs for the ride and headed out.
The ride started out on Cherry Creek Trail and goes three miles to Confluence Park - where the Platte River and Cherry Creek meet (conveniently right in front of REI). I took a left and headed south along the Platt River Trail and enjoyed watching people play in the high water - a combination of record snowpack melt and lots of afternoon rainstorms has left Denver green and full of water. About a mile into this trail, there was a detour through Denver's scenic industrial neighborhood but then I was back onto the trail and on my way.
The signage wasn't the best. At one point, the Platte Trail takes a decidedly left turn without so much as an arrow. Unaware of the turn, I continued on straight and after about 2 miles, saw a sign that I was now on the Bear Creek Trail. I had been a bit confused as to how the mountains had suddenly shifted from my right to my left and now I understood why. I turned around, sheepishly asked for directions to confirm the Platte went left, and continued along my way.
I couldn't remember why I had been so concerned about starting earlier. I thought and thought and only could figure that maybe I had wanted to avoid the heat or maybe get back early to do things around the apartment. It wasn't until around mile 20 that I remembered why: afternoon thunderstorms. I saw the clouds roll in, and eagerly looked for a bit of shelter as I got rained on for a mile or so. I camped out under an overpass with a fellow biker and a crazy homeless man. The homeless man yelled expletives at us (had the other biker not been there, I probably would have preferred being rained on) and told us our clothes were too expensive and wouldn't cut down the ratio (huh? And also my top was from target, homeless dude). He also yelled that we were weekend warriors. But we (the sane biker and I) checked the doppler on my phone, saw the storm was heading north, and continued on our way.
I didn't quite make it all the way to reservoir. The skies were looking more and more threatening and I turned around at 25 miles. It was a good choice, within 5 or 10 minutes of being home, the skies opened up with some pretty heavy rain and lightning. Along the way I stopped at a coffee shop along the trail to fill up my water bottle and eat some Gu. I probably should have eaten part of my protein bar instead - I ran out of gas around 38 miles and probably could have used more fuel earlier in the ride.
As I biked up Pearl St, the hill from 7th to 8th, some jerks on a balcony above me threw a water balloon that landed about 2 feet from me and gave me quite the startle. Had it actually hit me, I think I just would have laid down and cried, too tired to make it the one block home.
42 miles was my longest ride ever, and had I eaten more, I think I could have easily gone further. I kept my pace around 17 mph, sometimes cruising at 19 without a problem. My legs aren't all that sore, although biking gloves and better shorts would have helped the comfort of my ride. I'd like to get clip in pedals and shoes, but will patiently wait until next spring to invest. My boss has an old pair of shoes she is going to bring in for me and Papa B is sending along his old biking gloves. I'll gladly accept handmedowns until I can save up for some biking gear of my own!
I can't help but think that if 42 miles without training was easy and 1.2 miles of swimming is a breeze, if completing a half ironman isn't all that crazy...
The ride started out on Cherry Creek Trail and goes three miles to Confluence Park - where the Platte River and Cherry Creek meet (conveniently right in front of REI). I took a left and headed south along the Platt River Trail and enjoyed watching people play in the high water - a combination of record snowpack melt and lots of afternoon rainstorms has left Denver green and full of water. About a mile into this trail, there was a detour through Denver's scenic industrial neighborhood but then I was back onto the trail and on my way.
The signage wasn't the best. At one point, the Platte Trail takes a decidedly left turn without so much as an arrow. Unaware of the turn, I continued on straight and after about 2 miles, saw a sign that I was now on the Bear Creek Trail. I had been a bit confused as to how the mountains had suddenly shifted from my right to my left and now I understood why. I turned around, sheepishly asked for directions to confirm the Platte went left, and continued along my way.
I couldn't remember why I had been so concerned about starting earlier. I thought and thought and only could figure that maybe I had wanted to avoid the heat or maybe get back early to do things around the apartment. It wasn't until around mile 20 that I remembered why: afternoon thunderstorms. I saw the clouds roll in, and eagerly looked for a bit of shelter as I got rained on for a mile or so. I camped out under an overpass with a fellow biker and a crazy homeless man. The homeless man yelled expletives at us (had the other biker not been there, I probably would have preferred being rained on) and told us our clothes were too expensive and wouldn't cut down the ratio (huh? And also my top was from target, homeless dude). He also yelled that we were weekend warriors. But we (the sane biker and I) checked the doppler on my phone, saw the storm was heading north, and continued on our way.
I didn't quite make it all the way to reservoir. The skies were looking more and more threatening and I turned around at 25 miles. It was a good choice, within 5 or 10 minutes of being home, the skies opened up with some pretty heavy rain and lightning. Along the way I stopped at a coffee shop along the trail to fill up my water bottle and eat some Gu. I probably should have eaten part of my protein bar instead - I ran out of gas around 38 miles and probably could have used more fuel earlier in the ride.
As I biked up Pearl St, the hill from 7th to 8th, some jerks on a balcony above me threw a water balloon that landed about 2 feet from me and gave me quite the startle. Had it actually hit me, I think I just would have laid down and cried, too tired to make it the one block home.
42 miles was my longest ride ever, and had I eaten more, I think I could have easily gone further. I kept my pace around 17 mph, sometimes cruising at 19 without a problem. My legs aren't all that sore, although biking gloves and better shorts would have helped the comfort of my ride. I'd like to get clip in pedals and shoes, but will patiently wait until next spring to invest. My boss has an old pair of shoes she is going to bring in for me and Papa B is sending along his old biking gloves. I'll gladly accept handmedowns until I can save up for some biking gear of my own!
I can't help but think that if 42 miles without training was easy and 1.2 miles of swimming is a breeze, if completing a half ironman isn't all that crazy...
Monday, July 11, 2011
Race Report: Run Like the Wind 10k
Spoiler alert: I came in last.
I picked up Julie around 6:45 Saturday morning and we began our (super pretty) 1.5 hour drive up towards Allenspark. The Echo moaned and groaned once we started up into the mountains, making a stronger case that I need a new car sooner rather than later.
I thought it strange there was an Aplinhorn just hanging around by the town sign...
We arrived plenty early, picked up our race packets, and stretched a bit.
As we all hung around waiting til the 9 am start, the MC opened the race, I kid you not, by playing the Aplinhorn. I had to look up what the instrument was called. Mostly I just called it the thing the Ricola guy plays.
It was a fairly small race and at 9 am we lined up and headed out, starting with two loops around the town square. For the first mile, my heart and lungs burned and cursed my name. It felt a lot like the first time I had tried to run right after moving to Denver. After that mile, though, I started to enjoy the ups and downs of the course and settled into a good pace. I was with a group that would run the downhills and flats and then mostly walk the uphills - which I could walk faster than I could run them. I peeked around and saw that there were other 10k'ers around me (you could tell by their race bibs) and felt ok that I wouldn't be the last one.
I stopped during the first loop to take a picture - thats Long's Peak, a local 14'er
The first half was a combined 5k/10k then as the 5k finished, all of the 10k'ers were forced to turn right before the finish line and immediately regret their decision to have signed up for the 10k. At least I did. The second half was basically a long out and back and mile 4 was pretty much hell on earth - the longest climb ever. It was miserable. But I made it to the turnaround and enjoyed mile 5 - all of the downhill I had just climbed. It was around this point where I realized, hmm, I think I'm last. Since it was an out and back, I hadn't passed anyone going the other way. It was actually kind of nice, for most of the second part of the race, it was just like being out on a run in the woods by myself. I also realized how small of a race the 10k was. There couldn't have been more than 30 other runners. And thankfully, by the time I crossed the finish line, everyone had already migrated to the other side of the street where the food was, so no one was there except for Julie, patiently waiting for me to finish.
I'm guessing that the 10k'ers I saw around me during the first half decided to make it a 5k instead and really, who could blame them. I was proud of myself for finishing, though, and thought to myself that the SF hills will be a breeze compared to this race. I am also really proud that during the out and back, when no one else was around me, I didn't just turn around and trim a mile off of the race. And believe me, I thought about it.
Overall, I was really proud of myself for pushing through and finishing, even if my time was atrocious and everyone just wanted to go home instead of waiting for me to cross the finish line. The race was proof that you really can win by coming in last. I certainly did.
I picked up Julie around 6:45 Saturday morning and we began our (super pretty) 1.5 hour drive up towards Allenspark. The Echo moaned and groaned once we started up into the mountains, making a stronger case that I need a new car sooner rather than later.
I thought it strange there was an Aplinhorn just hanging around by the town sign... We arrived plenty early, picked up our race packets, and stretched a bit.
As we all hung around waiting til the 9 am start, the MC opened the race, I kid you not, by playing the Aplinhorn. I had to look up what the instrument was called. Mostly I just called it the thing the Ricola guy plays.
It was a fairly small race and at 9 am we lined up and headed out, starting with two loops around the town square. For the first mile, my heart and lungs burned and cursed my name. It felt a lot like the first time I had tried to run right after moving to Denver. After that mile, though, I started to enjoy the ups and downs of the course and settled into a good pace. I was with a group that would run the downhills and flats and then mostly walk the uphills - which I could walk faster than I could run them. I peeked around and saw that there were other 10k'ers around me (you could tell by their race bibs) and felt ok that I wouldn't be the last one.
I stopped during the first loop to take a picture - thats Long's Peak, a local 14'erThe first half was a combined 5k/10k then as the 5k finished, all of the 10k'ers were forced to turn right before the finish line and immediately regret their decision to have signed up for the 10k. At least I did. The second half was basically a long out and back and mile 4 was pretty much hell on earth - the longest climb ever. It was miserable. But I made it to the turnaround and enjoyed mile 5 - all of the downhill I had just climbed. It was around this point where I realized, hmm, I think I'm last. Since it was an out and back, I hadn't passed anyone going the other way. It was actually kind of nice, for most of the second part of the race, it was just like being out on a run in the woods by myself. I also realized how small of a race the 10k was. There couldn't have been more than 30 other runners. And thankfully, by the time I crossed the finish line, everyone had already migrated to the other side of the street where the food was, so no one was there except for Julie, patiently waiting for me to finish.
I'm guessing that the 10k'ers I saw around me during the first half decided to make it a 5k instead and really, who could blame them. I was proud of myself for finishing, though, and thought to myself that the SF hills will be a breeze compared to this race. I am also really proud that during the out and back, when no one else was around me, I didn't just turn around and trim a mile off of the race. And believe me, I thought about it.
Overall, I was really proud of myself for pushing through and finishing, even if my time was atrocious and everyone just wanted to go home instead of waiting for me to cross the finish line. The race was proof that you really can win by coming in last. I certainly did.
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