Adventure in Manitou Springs, home of Pikes Peak

Since my last post, I've learned a great deal not only about myself but also about running in Colorado. To say "learned" doesn't necessarily mean I've discovered some type of truth. It means I've gotten a better grasp of things out there.

First off, during the week of 5/3-5/9, I ran entirely too much on pavement, not getting to the trail once! That was 90 miles on the road, with a few miles here and there on the treadmill. A guy my age can't do that, as reflected in the fact that my knees were aching just a bit by the end of Sunday. But it was all for a good reason. Last weekend we celebrated Noah's second birthday and that--not running--was the priority, so I stayed close to home and ran on the roads.

After a week of just road running, I needed some trails. With that said, this past week (5/10-5/16), I planned some exposure to softer surfaces. Throughout the week, I went for dirt/gravel shoulders when it was safe to do so. On Saturday, I ran some dirt roads and dirt/gravel shoulders in and around Parker, logging 16 miles in exactly 2 hours on a pretty hilly course with strong gusts from the south. On Sunday, I capped off the week by venturing down to Manitou Springs to run with the famous Incline Club. I ended the week with 95 miles--not bad for my Leadville Trail 100 training. A few pictures from my adventure are included with this post.

The Incline Club was co-founded in 1997 by Matt Carpenter, who many consider the top mountain runner in North America and maybe the world. Matt lives in Manitou Springs. Among his long list of achievements as described on his Web site (exact page here), he's won the Pikes Peak Marathon 10 times and is the record holder at the Leadville Trail 100. In 2008, he won the North Face Endurance Challenge Championship 50-Miler in San Francisco, beating a very strong field. You get the picture. Founded  by a guy who lives by the maxim, "Oxygen is overrated," the club has a motto of, "Go out hard; when it hurts speed up!" Here's how the Incline Club describes itself:

A group of nuts who meet most of the year for Sunday long runs on and around Pikes Peak. During the summer months we also meet on Thursday evenings for quality hill sessions. It is the only running club that is more exciting than water on the moon!!!

So on Sunday, I did the hour-long drive down to Manitou Springs, the beautiful home of the even more beautiful Pikes Peak, to meet the club at Memorial Park for the start of its 8 a.m. run. I got there a few minutes early and geared up, wearing my North Face fuel belt along with my Nathan handheld to ensure I remained properly hydrated. I also took some PowerBar gels and wore my fast, light and flexible Salomon Speedcross 2 trail shoes, which are hands-down the best trail shoes I've ever worn (Salomon, please do not ever discontinue the Speedcrosses. They are unparalleled!). The weather was beautiful--40s and 50s and sunny with little wind.

Anyway, I asked one of the Incline Club members about the route for the day and introduced myself. He was a nice guy, explaining that the single Waldo Canyon loop was about 3 hours and the double was about 4 hours. As I didn't have a limitless amount of time, I elected right then to do the single loop and decided I'd add on in the end if I needed more time and distance. Just before 8:00, Carpenter overviewed the route for the day and asked everyone to sign in (which I did--as a visitor), and we were off--a group of about 40-50. The run took us through the very charming Manitou Springs village and up the historic Ute Pass Trail. We stayed on the UPT, crossing highway 24, and then got on on the Waldo Canyon Trail which took us on a loop. Without reinventing the wheel, the run is described in detail here and I urge you to read the description as its full of great information.

I covered 17 miles in 2:54, adding a short section on the Barr Trail leading up to Pikes Peak toward the end. The elevation for Sunday's run peaked at about 8,100 feet in Waldo Canyon. I felt mostly great the whole time, tiring a little in the end but holding up well. I wasn't ever out of breath and climbed the hills with good power and resolve. I hammered a lot of the descents on the "out" but my quads were pretty tired on the "back," and so I ran the descents a little more conservatively on the back. I ran for a while with some pretty fast guys and they were hammering the downhills and putting on an impressive show. They weren't ultrarunners; they described themselves as mountain runners. More on that below. Anyway, I had to stop and pee and they kept going hard (as they should) and I never was able to catch up with them. I ran a good portion of the "back" solo, finishing well ahead of many others. My total ascent and descent was 9,000 feet!

Yeah, running solo for so much of the time I was with the Incline Club on Sunday kind of sucked, but it was my fault. I went out aggressively, stayed toward the front and never joined up with others. Next time I may be a bit more social and stay with a larger group so I can meet some folks.

When I lived out East, I had mistakenly thought most mountain runners were also ultrarunners. Not so. While it's true there are mountain ultrarunners (as I'm on my way to being), mountain runners who aren't ultrarunners cover shorter distances and they tend to be fast. They have impressive abilities on the inclines and declines. Forgive the generalities--but these are just my limited observations to date. I am beginning to think that, as an ultrarunner, I might just be in the small minority of runners here in Colorado. As I get better-acclimated and know more people over time, maybe that observation will change.

I've learned that I have some abilities at altitude. I've adjusted well after a tough initial 2-3 weeks and am handling elevations of 8,000 feet quite well. I now want to venture above 8,000 feet and I think the perfect opportunity will be to participate in the Incline Club's Barr Camp out-and-back, which they'll hopefully do this Sunday. This route will take us up to Barr Camp, which is at 10,000 feet and more than half-way up Pikes Peak--and then we'll come back down. Here's a picture of an interesting sign that greets you at the base of Barr Trail--where you're so full of hope and optimism.

Pretty sobering, yes, as it should be. Pikes Peak is no joke; it is serious business. Given my obsession with the ever-mysterious Pikes Peak, you can only imagine how excited I am by the thought of running up to Barr Camp and back especially with the Incline Club. It will be very challenging as you running up a 14,000+ foot mountain! On down the road a bit, my planned summit of Pikes Peak will certainly be a life-changing event. I think it's fair to say I should allot an entire day to that challenge and pack my gear carefully! Barr Camp offers some provisions and over-night accommodations, but I have no plans of a multi-day adventure. It'll be one day--all in one go!

I am now thinking seriously about signing up for the Leadville Trail Marathon on 7/3. When/if I do, I'll blog on it! Until then, run hard and run happy!

Your average 10 miler at 5 a.m.

The alarm goes off at 4:40 a.m. I don't press the snooze button for fear of aggravating my sleeping wife and groggily get out of bed to prepare for my run. It's Leadville 100 season. I step over our awakening dog, Sophie, and proceed into our master bathroom, where I slip into my running garb. By now, the coffee maker is brewing thanks to the auto-timer I set every night before bed. After getting dressed, I ever-so-quietly make my way toward the kitchen in need of java--but coffee is going to have to wait until after Sophie has peed.

I ask Sophie to pee quickly, which she does, so that I can get out the door by 5:10 for my my usual 10-mile morning run. Actually, my usual for the morning is about 9 miles, but I'm bumping it up to 10 for my Leadville 100 training. I know what it takes to be ready for a 100, but Leadville is no ordinary 100. It involves snow-capped mountains and elevations of 10,000 feet. So this is just my first run of the day. I'm planning 4 more miles tonight--some might call these junk miles but to me they're more time on the feet in preparation for Leadville. But before any of that can happen, I first need to feed the pets and then I'll enjoy my coffee and English muffin.

Through all the hustle of bustle, quietness is of vital importance as any disturbance may awaken Noah. Alas, as I'm enjoying my coffee and waiting for my English muffin to toast to perfection, Noah awakens...at 4:50 a.m.! Now he's crying! I let him go for a few minutes and then finally enter his room to re-cover him in his blankets and give him his pacifier. Even as I close his door he's still crying, but fortunately within a few minutes he's quiet and sleeping again. Thank God! Now for my English muffin!

It's 5:05 now and I've downed my English muffin and coffee and a glass of water--all while checking Facebook--and am ready to go. Since it's 38 degrees and windy, I put on my North Face vest jacket, mittens and hat and then my headlamp, red blinker and Road ID and make my way out the door. Damn! I forgot my Garmin! I head back up the stairs to get my GPS and then, finally, am out the door.

I start running through the apartment complex parking lots and exit the grounds through the main gate, now making my way down east Mainstreet. My legs are a little tired from yesterday's 14.25 miles (and Saturday's 50-kilometer race). It's only a little dark outside, but too dark to see Pikes Peak to the south. My legs start to loosen up as I cross the ever-busy, always-intense Parker Road, a.k.a., Route 83, and make my way down Mainstreet through the rather charming Parker village.

The plan this morning is 5 miles up east Mainstreet, which turns into east Parker Road, and then a return trip to the apartment, for a total of 10 miles. I'll go from about 5,900 feet to almost 6,500 feet for a total elevation change of about 2,000 feet when you factor in a few rolling hills. That may not sound like much but after the 3-mile mark up east Parker Road there are a few decent hills that will give you a nice workout. It's not Green Mountain but it'll have to do this morning. Mountains are for the weekend.

Even at this crazy-early hour there are a decent number of cars out--not enough to jeopardize my life but enough to warrant some attention. I feel bad for these folks--having to go to work when they should be at home in bed or out exercising.

I'm going up east Parker Road, alternating between the sidewalk and asphalt road as determined by the general nature of approaching cars. I prefer asphalt over concrete sidewalk any day of the week, but nothing beats a good single-track trail. Unfortunately in Parker, they don't know anything about dirt trails. All they know about are asphalt and concrete and they seem to love calling a concrete bike path a "trail."

After Riva Ridge Road, which is about 2 miles into my run, the elevation goes north of 6,000 feet as I begin a series of gradual climbs. I'm feeling good this morning and, with it now being about 5:25, the sun is starting to come out and I turn off my headlamp. I can't see the numbers on my Garmin because it's not quite light-enough, but no worries. I look to the south but it's too dark to see Pikes Peak and, besides, I wouldn't be able to see much with all those houses in the way.

As I pass Canterbury Parkway, the wind starts to really whip up and I'm now excited that I'm making the wonderful transition from suburban street to country road. Yes, at about the 2.8-mile mark in this route, east Parker Road turns into a fairly quiet, wonderful two-lane road with wide, dirt shoulders perfect for running. By this point, suburbia is behind me and now I can relish the sites--the rolling hills, the pastures, the cows and, of course, the views! I live for running on country roads.

At the 4-mile mark, now averaging about 7:35 pace, I come upon Tomahawk Road, a north-south road at 6,200 feet, and by now have seen Pikes Peak to the south. It's still kind of faint but it's there. Since moving to Colorado a month ago, no view has captivated me more than Pikes Peak. It is a spectacular site.

I decide to slightly modify my route and turn right--or south--onto Tomahawk. I go about a quarter-mile down Tomahawk and turn left onto East Pinewood Drive. This is probably my favorite neighborhood in the Parker area. It features big lots, beautiful and high-quality but not elaborate houses, and breath-taking views of the mountains to the west and Pikes Peak to the south. I'm certain that the same kind of people who lived in our neighborhood in Chagrin Falls live in this neighborhood--people who love the country, the outdoors, family time and wholesome living. This is where I'd love to live when we buy...if only a house comes on the market that we can afford.

Some of the hills in this neighborhood aren't easy but I hold my 7:35 pace as I look south at Pikes Peak. The peak is covered with snow and glows from the sunlight. It is a monstrosity and I can't wait to summit it in a few weeks when the weather is better. I turn left onto North Templin Road, which will reconnect with Parker Road. On Templin, I'm now up to about 6,400 feet but I'm feeling good and breathing normally. I realize that I've come a long way in acclimating to the elevation. Only 2 or 3 weeks ago I was suffering. But now I'm able to handle the elevation and wonder if I'm fully acclimated or if I'm just partway there.

I'm only on Templin for about a third of a mile before turning left onto West Parker Road. The time is about 5:52 and it's quiet here on West Parker Road. I have 38 minutes to run the remaining 5 or so miles and get home on time. That's plenty of time. From here, West Parker Road is mostly downhill and so I pick up my pace a little to about 6:50-7:10 per mile. The view of the mountains immediately in front of me is spectacular. I never get used to this view. The mountains farther back--the 14'ers--are snow-covered and, like Pikes Peak, glowing from the sun rising in the east.

The next two miles are very pleasant, despite strong winds after Clarke Boulevard. About three miles from home, I now have to again deal with the issues of suburbia and the early morning rush. But there will be no sidewalk running on my return trip. Instead, I opt for the road's edge and step up onto the grass if a car is coming and won't get over for me. Those drivers who seem hellbent on buzzing runners--I feel badly for them. Why the hate?

I'm just trucking along as I enter the Parker village now well past the 9-mile mark into my 10-plus miler. The coffee houses are opening and the world is starting a new day. Thanks to cooperation from the Parker Road/Mainstreet traffic light, I'm able to run across 83 with no worries. Ordinarily, I'd take the tunnel under 83 but can instead run across the road this morning since the light is agreeing.

After crossing Parker Road, I'm now basically home and am at 10 miles when I enter my apartment complex, having dialed the code to get into the gate. I run in circles for a bit, getting to 10.25 miles, and then unlock the door and step into our unit. The time is exactly 6:30. I feel good knowing I've just logged 10 miles, with 4 more to do tonight as I'm trying for 90+ this week, and even better when I hear Noah happily yell, "Hi!" Anne and Noah are always my favorite sites in the morning. Pikes Peak is a distant second.

I now have 25 minutes to make lunches for Anne and me (she makes Noah's lunch) and eat some cereal, before seeing them off and then rushing to shower, get dressed, let Sophie out again and then speed off to work--another working stiff.

Short race report for the Greenland Trail 50K

I ran in the Greenland Trail 50K yesterday. This was my first race in over seven months, and my first-ever race at elevation. My last race was the North Coast 24-Hour/24-Hour National Championship in Cleveland, where I completed a disappointing 131 miles. It took me about three months to get back to 100% after the North Coast 24. But that was a lifetime ago. The Greenland Trail 50K was held in the Greenland Open Space, located about 20 minutes south of Castle Rock and 20-30 miles north of Colorado Springs along Interstate 25. When I parked my car I checked the elevation on my car's navigation system and it read 6,955 feet--much higher than I thought.

Before I go any further, the basics: I finished 5th overall--out of about 120 finishers--with a time of 4:14:59. The winning time was 3:52 by a guy who happens to be a 2:27 marathoner. The complete results are here. I'll post photos when/if I get them.

The course consisted of four loops within the Greenland Open Space, with short spurs entering the course and to access the finish line. According to my Garmin, the entire course was between 7,000-7,500 feet, with 3,331 of ascent and 3,336 of descent and a few decent hills but nothing steep. The trail was all dirt and mostly double-track. There was some mud and snow but overall the course was dry and in excellent condition. The weather was also pretty nice. Though the sun was out, in a few sections you really got blown around. It was about 30 degrees at the start and in the mid to high 40s by the time I finished.

The Greenland Open Space offers beautiful views of surrounding mountains, including Pikes Peak. Being a crystal-clear morning, Pikes Peak looked like it was practically glowing. Some of the views were magnificent.

I felt great pretty much the whole way, though there were a few areas on the final lap that I struggled. My lap times were:

1. 59:42
2. 1:00:56
3. 1:03:46
4. 1:10:32

I am not happy with that fourth-lap time. My marathon split was 3:33:12.I noticed that my quads really held up well as I was hammering the downhills. I think the weight-training is paying off. At such elevation and especially in the mountains, I think it's vital to have balanced and strong, but not overly muscular, legs. I'm doing single leg extensions--one leg at a time--with light weight and fairly high repetitions. Doing one leg at a time helps identify and address imbalances and weaknesses. I guess it's paying off because I was strong on the downhills at Greenland.

Back to the race: Overall I am very happy with the result. This time only a month ago we were in the car making our way out here to Colorado from Ohio. I had lived at sea level all my life. To go from nearly 37 years at sea level to finishing fifth overall in a race at 7,000-7,500 feet makes me feel upbeat, especially as I'm now preparing for the Leadville Trail 100-Mile Run on Aug. 21. My mileage over the past two months has been erratic and it's now time to get more consistent and try to hit triple digits for my Leadville training.

It's hard to say what my next race will be, though I'm leaning toward the Leadville Marathon on July 3 and, by then, hope to have conquered Pikes Peak--both ways (25 miles with 7,400 feet of vertical).

This week the goal as I recover from the Greenland Trail 50K is 80 miles.

My South Boulder and Bear Peaks adventure..and a few words on Leadville

On Sunday a friend (who shall remain nameless on this blog per his request) and I met in Boulder at the South Mesa Trailhead and, over a period of 3 hours, reached the summits of two spectacularly beautiful, quite difficult and very technical 8,500-foot mountains—South Boulder Peak and Bear Peak.

Looking down from South Boulder Peak.

We reached the summit of South Boulder at about 9:15 a.m., an hour into our adventure. This was a 3,000-foot climb over about 3.5 miles—enough to really feel it. The top of South Boulder Peak was extremely rocky and technical, as were several sections of the trail leading to the summit. There were times I was really working hard and a few rocky sections where all we could do was walk. The views from the summit and the feeling of exhilaration made it all worth it. I made a point to look out and not down, as the drop was very steep. One must proceed carefully to the summit of South Boulder Peak or risk falling to their death. That is not an overstatement.

Sitting atop an 8,500-foot mountain after climbing 3,000 feet in 3.5 miles brings nothing but a smile. I think when I reach the summit of Pikes Peak I'll be smiling even more.

After chilling for a few minutes at the summit of South Boulder Peak, we made our way along a ridgeline to Bear Peak, which is also about 8,500 feet. It was pretty easy getting to Bear Peak, but it was not easy reaching the summit. Again, we were confronted with huge rocks and a very technical final section. But the top of Bear Peak was just as amazing. Again, we had spectacular 360-degree views. We could see not only South Boulder Peak, but also nearby Green Mountain and far-off Denver. We could see for miles and miles.

On the way down from Bear Peak my quads began to ache. They’re still a little sore.

Through it all, I learned a valuable lesson. When summiting rocky peaks, it is best not to carry a handheld water bottle. A hydration backpack would be ideal so that your hands are free for navigating the big rocks and boulders.

I love the mountains, particularly the mountains here. Right now I am obsessed with summiting Pikes Peak, and I will. It is not a question of if; it is a question of when. I’m told I should wait until June or July when the snowpack is more manageable to embark on this 25-26-mile adventure involving 7,400 feet of vertical. The key is reaching the top of Pikes Peak, which is over 14,100 feet, before early afternoon, when thunderstorms can roll in and bring plenty of danger.

So many adventures.

***

Registering for the Leadville Trail 100-Mile Run required a gut check. Did I have the guts to enter a high-altitude race when I’d just moved to Denver from sea level, where I’d lived all my life? As with every 100 I’ve done, I felt pulled to Leadville and finally gave in and registered. But registering is only a small, albeit critical, part of the 100-mile experience. Training for the race and actually completing the distance are the true essence of the experience. Unlike my two previous 100s, I’m not entering Leadville looking for the win. I’ve developed enough respect for thin air to understand that my goals as a first-time Leadville entrant with a pretty good resume ought to be:

1. Finish
2. Finish in under 24 hours
3. Whatever happens, happens

One hundred milers are very unique. Every race of 100 miles or more I’ve done has been unique.

• 2007 Burning River 100 – a whole new view of the world
• 2008 Mohican 100 – after losing the lead due to a knee injury and almost DNF'ing because of my knee and horrendous GI issues, I barely hung on to finish and somehow managed a 19:22
• 2009 Mohican 100 – finally got the win I was after
• 2009 North Coast 24 – after running in circles for 131 miles, I realized 24-hour races aren’t a lot of fun

I think Leadville will probably be a lot like the 2007 Burning River 100. With elevations of 9,200-12,600 feet, Leadville is going to be a whole new experience and open my eyes to something I’ve never seen before. But enough with the tallk. It's time to get it on with training.

This Saturday I have the Greenland Trail 50K. It has maximum elevations of about 7,300 feet. I have no expectations amd am just going to do my best. This early in the season and after a cross-country move that really disrupted my training, it's hard to say what's going to happen.

Leadville: Game on!

On Friday, not long after my blog post, I registered for the Leadville Trail 100-Mile. Lots of training to do between now and Aug. 21 when the gun goes off at 4 a.m. It's going to be an amazing experience.

Running at elevation: Observations

Last Sunday, Anne, Noah and I visited Pikes Peak, elevation 14,115 feet. Living in Parker, we can easily see Pikes Peak most days. I'm sure you could see it from many Denver-area communities. This is our view from Parker:

As you can see, Pikes Peak is a stunningly beautiful mountain. Anyway, on Sunday we all drove down to Maintou Springs and, after paying our $20, proceeded up the mountain. The road up is 19 miles long and, unfortunately, we were only able to complete 15 miles due to road closure from heavy snow at the summit. This put us well over 12,000 feet up. I can safely say I've never driven a more beautiful stretch of road.

The scenery throughout the ascent was so intense, so breath-taking and so moving that I can't put words to any of it. There were times the views were so intense that they terrified Noah. Unfortunately, we forgot our camera and so I don't have any photos from the adventure. I snapped a few shots with my mobile phone but the quality is too poor to post here. You can see tons of photos of Pikes Peak online. One of the highlights of the trip was seeing a fox. Another was watching the backcountry skiers. Here's the fox:

Having driven more than 3/4 of the way up Pikes Peak, I am now inspired to summit the mountain on foot via the Barr Trail. The Barr Trail is used for the famous Pikes Peak Marathon and Ascent, climbing 7,300 feet over a distance of 12.6 miles. About halfway up (10,000 feet) is Barr Camp, where runners and hikers can use the facilities, get some food and drink and even stay the night. From what I've heard, the key to summiting Pikes Peak is to start at about dawn so that you summit in early afternoon--before the weather turns nasty (a distinct possible much of the time). I think to truly experience Pikes Peak I'm going to need to run back down and do the full 25+ miles in one go. It promises to be an incredible experience. I will be sure to have my camera (along with a good day pack, lots of food and drink and other essentials)!

***

I'm starting to get an itch for ratcheting up my training and going for new goals. Next Saturday (May 1), I run in the Greenland Trail 50K, which isn't far from Colorado Springs. The course consists of multiple loops and has a maximum elevation of 7,400 feet. It's described as "fast." We'll see about that. I'm going to taper for a week and try to go for a "good" time, whatever that may be. This will be my first race of 2010 and so my expectations are pretty fluid.

Without getting too ahead of myself, I'm thinking about which 100-miler I'm going to enter this year. In my mind, there are two good options that I'm carefully weighing--the Burning River 100 in Northeast Ohio on July 31-Aug. 1 (my first 100 in 2007) and the Leadville Trail 100 in the Colorado Rocky Mountains on Aug. 21-22. The two races couldn't be more different.

• The BR100 is a point-to-point race run at sea level with modest hills and the potential for high heat and humidity. It's serving as this year's USATF 100-mile national championship.
• The Leadville 100 is an out-and-back race run between 9,200-12,600 feet literally in the mountains with very erratic weather. You climb Hope Pass (12,600 feet) twice. I'm sure the views along the course are spectacular.

For a variety of reasons, I'm leaning toward Leadville even as the prospect of a "homecoming" in Cleveland is very heart-warming. Now that we're here in Denver, I may as well take advantage of the mountains and experience one of the most famous 100-milers in the nation--even if it means a time of 24+ hours and having to do the 100 miles solo (though a Leadville race official told me if you want a pacer you'll get one). I'll report back on my decision. I could register for Leadville as early as today.

Regardless of which race I do, over the next few months I'll be logging 80-110 miles per week. I did 81 last week and am set to get to 90 this week. Such high mileage is going to be a huge challenge given the demands of a new job, but I'm simply going to have to find creative ways to get in the miles. Eighty miles a week is pretty "turn key" and standard for me. Getting beyond that requires some creative scheduling.

***

Coming to Denver, I'd only read what it was like running at elevation. Now I know what it's like and I haven't even gotten that high up yet. Just about everyday I do an out-and-back that takes me from about 5,900 feet to about 6,500 feet. All things considered, that's not too bad. In fact, it's very manageable. But it's also a great route for a guy like me who's trying to get acclimated. Anyway, here are some personal observations on running at elevations that I'd like to share:

1. At times, especially past the one-hour point, it is in fact like breathing through a straw. You simply can't get enough oxygen and so you're breathing hard to try to make up the O2 deficit.
2. If you're really high up and working hard, good luck catching your breath. A few days ago I was talking with a friend here about our plans to summit Quandary Peak (elevation 14,271) at some point on Memorial Day weekend. Anyway, he said that once past the 13,000-foot point he really struggles. My response was, "Well, once we get past 13,000 feet we'll just need to try to catch our breath so we'll have enough in the tank to stay strong." Um, I think it's kind of hard to catch your breath at 13,000 feet. The key, it seems, is to pace yourself and try to avoid an O2 deficit as much as humanly possible.
3. The effects of elevation are minimal at the start and really manifest themselves past the one-hour point. If I'm on a run of 2-3 hours, I'm usually in pretty good shape the first hour. It's in the second hour that things get dicey, especially on the hills. Fortunately, I'm seeing improvement in how long I can stay strong and ahead of my oxygen needs, but it's still a process that's going to take time.
4. Adjust expectations. Back in Ohio, my tempo run pace was about 6:10-6:25 per mile. Out here, running at 6,000+ feet on a day-to-day basis, I've seen my tempo pace fall to about 6:40. I'm sure it'll get better with time. I haven't even stepped foot on a track for intervals since we got here, but in time I will and hopefully I can get in some high-quality 800s, 1200s, and milers. Maybe 5:35 milers will eventually be possible again.
5. Stay hydrated at all times. There's something very dehydrating about the air here. Maybe it's the fact that our air is bone dry.

According to this article in Running Times, the better shape you're in the harder it's going to be to go from sea level to elevation. Why? A well-conditioneed athlete uses blood oxygen very efficiently and simply doesn't need as much O2 as a less well-conditioned athlete. But when that well-conditioned athlete goes to elevation, there's a shortage of blood oxygen due to that sea level efficiency, and so it just takes time for the adjustmeent to happen. I'm pretty sure that's where I am now.

***

I'll report back on my Leadville/Burning River 100 decision.

Acclimating and a mild case of altitide sickness

Now working on two weeks of life in Colorado, it is high time (pun intended) that I chime in with an update on our new life in the Rocky Mountain State.


Pike's Peak is visible from where we live in Parker. It's visible from almost anyway.

All is well. Anne and I have both started our new jobs--me at the Colorado Neurological Institute as development officer and director of marketing & communications, and Anne at a veterinary referral practice in Parker--and everything is fantastic. Noah is transitioning far better than expected. Going into the move, I was most concerned about how the relocation would affect Noah. I can’t describe the turmoil and pain I felt when thinking about how this move might affect him. But he’s been a trooper and, by all accounts, seems to have settled in quite well.

Now, as far as running, I don’t even know where to begin. I’ll start with what’s most important. Whether I’m in the hills of Parker (where we’re currently renting an apartment until we buy a house), running along the rocky, canyon trails of Castlewood Canyon State Park, taking baby steps in acclimating at Roxborough State Park, or taking in a beautiful view of Pike’s Peak to the South or the great mountains to the West, I am simply in awe of my natural surroundings. I can walk outside now and see Pike's Peak. I don’t think I’ll ever take the mountains or these big, blue skies for granted. They are entirely too beautiful to ever take for granted. Sometimes I just can’t believe we’re here—in this magnificent playground for skiers, campers, trail runners, white-water rafting fans, mountaineers, hikers, etc.

Castlewood Canyon is one of the coolest places I've ever run. I later found out it's infested with rattlesnakes. A little danger is a good thing, though.

We’re living at about 6,000 feet of elevation—enough for a flatlander to feel. If I’m running the hills of Parker, I can get up to 6,500 feet and, so far, the highest I’ve gone is 7,300 feet at Roxborough State Park, where I’ve really enjoyed the rather modest but really neat Carpenter’s Peak ascent. I want to very soon go above 8,000 feet and take a few runs north of 10,000 feet well before I plan to line up at the legendary Leadville Trail 100 on August 21. First things first; I have the Greenland Trail 50K on May 1!

Acclimating has been a challenge, to say the least. Plus, this air is really dry, which had me drinking water like crazy the first few days. The first Saturday we were here, I went on a 17.5-miler in the Parker hills and, by mile 11, was experiencing terrible stomach cramps soon followed by GI distress and fatigue. Then I ran out of water. Ordinarily, 17.5 miles is pretty easy—but not last Saturday. The same happened the next day after running 12 miles with the Denver Trail Runners at North Table Mesa, a beautiful, flat-top mountain in Golden, Colorado. I’ve been told the cramps and what followed were surely a sign of mild altitude sickness. I’ve also felt general nausea on many of my runs and sometimes experience light-headedness. A few days ago I ran for well over two hours at Roxborough State Park and generally felt good—a promising sign of acclimation. The key is to stay hydrated. I’m investing in a nice hydration backpack that will come in handy during long runs.

I believe that in time my body will adjust and I’ll start to feel good again. Until then, I am intent on battling it out with careful attention to how I’m feeling. In a few weeks, when I'm ready, I'm going to Colorado Springs to run with the famous Incline Club. I spoke with a childhood friend of mine who lives in Castle Rock—not far from Parker—and we’re planning to summit one of the 14,000 footers maybe later this summer or in early fall. Although I’m in great shape, I have a long way to go in preparing myself for such altitude. I have lots of red blood cells to create.

Anyway, this has all been humbling as I’ve always been proud of my strength on hills. But these aren’t just hills. I keep telling myself to stay patient and bear in mind that acclimation will come with time. Rome wasn’t built overnight.