Kinda late posting this. Ok, a LOT late but really want the documentation so I can compare to next year. Only 3 women signed up for the solo which just makes a female solo rider feel pretty amazing.
Woke up about early enough to get to the start on time. While en route, I realized I had calculated my arrival time for Lowman and not 15-20 miles north. So, it would be a little tight. The guy directing the start asked if I knew that I was starting soon-in like 10 minutes and I confirmed.
I also misunderstood what a "sag" is for. It is not for fuel or anything else besides carrying a rider and their bike who decide to drop. So, I took two bottles of fuel with me and left the others in my SUV and planned to refuel in Stanley. The guy who parked next to me had his wife as crew. She agreed to bring my overnight bag to the finish for me. This was another newbie error on my part. The website isn't helpful and I wasn't aware that there wouldn't be a way to transport the overnight bag to the finish.
Headed out at 10:25 and on my way up Banner Summit. It's a long and steady grind. It never is really steep but it's a 12 mile ascent and peak at above 7000 feet. I could periodically feel the elevation in a somewhat increased heart rate and random dizziness but tolerated it ok. I kept my pace and cadence steady and focused on controlling heart rate. Banner is a very long climb that is never really steep. The grade is a little more than Bogus but shorter. At 10 miles or so into the climb, I asked a couple relay guys who passed me how much farther to the summit and it was less than 2. I ride 2 miles almost every day so it became mentally doable.
I began to have ITB issues around the halfway point up. I got off the bike a couple times to stretch without much success for the long term but it did help for a few miles at a time.
I got to Stanley and stopped at the gas station for more fuel. The two bottles I had worked quite well for the 40 miles. The product with the most fuel per punch would be a Mountain Dew. I don't drink soda on a daily basis-at all-but it would have to do. I grabbed a sports bar and the Dew which I split between bottles and topped with water and away I went.
The next piece of the ride is a gradual incline in a valley that often has a crosswind and we weren't disappointed. At times my pace would slow to an awe inspiring 12 mph. This was about a 20 mile stretch. I went past several of the exchanges for the relay. The energy in the exchange stations was fun. The crew for the teams and other solos would cheer everyone on and it was very motivating.
After this stretch is the climb up Galena. It's about 4.5-5 miles and the gain is almost 1500 feet. This was my first century ride and the climb at this point in the ride was a little rough. On the prior section, I bailed off bike again and worked the ITB and actually got it to chillax which made this climb manageable however. At the top, you begin a 30 mile awesome descent. What an incredible moment the beginning of the descent was.
I got to my hotel and the guy whose wife drove my stuff up left it at the front desk, which was awesome. I really had no idea how I was getting back to my SUV the next day. After talking with 2 people at the hotel check-in, I was able to hook up for a ride back.
This was really a great ride and can't wait to do next year. I would like to do it as a 2 person 200 mile relay. I have spoken with George's cycles and they say "possible" but maybe not "probable" as the riders are in a rolling enclosure. So, if I can't get it approved then will do the solo again. Simply can't wait. This is a highly recommended ride and reportedly one of the toughest centuries around.
Superstar
Friday, August 14, 2015
Monday, May 19, 2014
Beating denial
Sometimes denial is good, sometimes not. Sadly, I had two issues move from denial to reality this year. I learned that dogs running close with a human can still get attacked by a mountain lion and I learned that even if a cyclist does everything right, they can still get struck by a motor vehicle.
The latter is the purpose of this post. Or, maybe the purpose is more to help me process what happened last Monday.
I love cycling to work. I bought a nice Cannondale hybrid last September and rode 2 days one week and 3 the next. When I moved to working primarily out of Eagle, 5 days a week became possible. In early May, I upgraded to a beautiful Cannondale road bike. It is carbon fiber and blue/black/and white in color. It is amazing. And fast.
I discussed my safety concerns with many, many people over the last 8 months. Issues included drivers not giving the 3 feet of room between them and all cyclists, speeders, and that fear of not being seen. I always imagined my demise would be caused by a motorist passing too closely, thus causing me to tip over. I never imagined the scenario that did occur.
My ride to work is 10.5 miles. I travel from my house to 13th, get on Hill road and stay there until I turn on Edgewood. Then I cross Highway 44 and turn onto Riverside Drive. The latter is where my sense of safety increases. Riverside has little traffic and a bike lane. On Monday, this sense of security was the same. Within a 1/4 mile of my office, I was pedaling at 17-20 mph-well under the speed limit, though. I saw an approaching SUV get into the left hand turn lane. As I approached, it never once occurred to me that the driver wasn't slowing for me as well as the turn. I was within 10 feet of the SUV when the turn started. I attempted to brake and turn but there just wasn't room or time. The SUV struck my bike frame first and I heard the crack. I believe that my pedal struck the bumper next as there is a nice dent there. This motion propelled me to the hood and then rolled me off to the pavement.
Immediately after, I stood up. First thought-wow, I just was hit by an SUV and feel ok. Wow. Initially I wasn't planning on a trip to the ER. Good old adrenalin. I called work to advise what happened and said I would be there in about an hour. When all the emergency personnel arrived, they asked me to sit on the curb. (Really? It is really far down). Soon after, the swelling set in on my wrist, quads, and the upper left fibula. Called work again and said I was going to the ER as was pretty sure the wrist was broke but would be there at noon. Dork. Within 20 minutes of this, I called again stating I should probably go home.
My ER visit showed what I suspected. The radial distal condoyle fractured. There was a pretty significant hematoma on right quad and a large contusion on the left. They cleaned up some mild abrasions. I didn't strike my head on the windshield or pavement. Very fortunate. The SUV striking my bike frame first likely saved my fibula from fracturing.
Looking at this a week later, I continue to feel blessed, overwhelmed, fortunate, and somewhat guilty. I have a friend who was hit on a bike on Meridian road 3 years ago. The accident was in a 50 mph zone and that is what the driver was doing. Sadly, she also wasn't paying attention and drove up on the sidewalk. Another accident hard to prevent by anything but driver awareness. My guilt stems from being so ok yet complaining about how my life has changed. In 6 weeks, life will be mostly normal. I went home Monday evening instead of going to a hospital room or morgue. The drivers insurance gets to purchase a new bike, upgraded and more cool stuff. But I really want my bike back. And the sense of denial that it wouldn't happen to me.
The latter is the purpose of this post. Or, maybe the purpose is more to help me process what happened last Monday.
I love cycling to work. I bought a nice Cannondale hybrid last September and rode 2 days one week and 3 the next. When I moved to working primarily out of Eagle, 5 days a week became possible. In early May, I upgraded to a beautiful Cannondale road bike. It is carbon fiber and blue/black/and white in color. It is amazing. And fast.
I discussed my safety concerns with many, many people over the last 8 months. Issues included drivers not giving the 3 feet of room between them and all cyclists, speeders, and that fear of not being seen. I always imagined my demise would be caused by a motorist passing too closely, thus causing me to tip over. I never imagined the scenario that did occur.
My ride to work is 10.5 miles. I travel from my house to 13th, get on Hill road and stay there until I turn on Edgewood. Then I cross Highway 44 and turn onto Riverside Drive. The latter is where my sense of safety increases. Riverside has little traffic and a bike lane. On Monday, this sense of security was the same. Within a 1/4 mile of my office, I was pedaling at 17-20 mph-well under the speed limit, though. I saw an approaching SUV get into the left hand turn lane. As I approached, it never once occurred to me that the driver wasn't slowing for me as well as the turn. I was within 10 feet of the SUV when the turn started. I attempted to brake and turn but there just wasn't room or time. The SUV struck my bike frame first and I heard the crack. I believe that my pedal struck the bumper next as there is a nice dent there. This motion propelled me to the hood and then rolled me off to the pavement.
Immediately after, I stood up. First thought-wow, I just was hit by an SUV and feel ok. Wow. Initially I wasn't planning on a trip to the ER. Good old adrenalin. I called work to advise what happened and said I would be there in about an hour. When all the emergency personnel arrived, they asked me to sit on the curb. (Really? It is really far down). Soon after, the swelling set in on my wrist, quads, and the upper left fibula. Called work again and said I was going to the ER as was pretty sure the wrist was broke but would be there at noon. Dork. Within 20 minutes of this, I called again stating I should probably go home.
My ER visit showed what I suspected. The radial distal condoyle fractured. There was a pretty significant hematoma on right quad and a large contusion on the left. They cleaned up some mild abrasions. I didn't strike my head on the windshield or pavement. Very fortunate. The SUV striking my bike frame first likely saved my fibula from fracturing.
Looking at this a week later, I continue to feel blessed, overwhelmed, fortunate, and somewhat guilty. I have a friend who was hit on a bike on Meridian road 3 years ago. The accident was in a 50 mph zone and that is what the driver was doing. Sadly, she also wasn't paying attention and drove up on the sidewalk. Another accident hard to prevent by anything but driver awareness. My guilt stems from being so ok yet complaining about how my life has changed. In 6 weeks, life will be mostly normal. I went home Monday evening instead of going to a hospital room or morgue. The drivers insurance gets to purchase a new bike, upgraded and more cool stuff. But I really want my bike back. And the sense of denial that it wouldn't happen to me.
Monday, November 25, 2013
On rambles
The North Face Endurance Challenge is a mere 2 weeks away. This weekend will be the last for good miles of running followed by cycling. Changing up my training by adding cycling has been incredible for hill climbing but difficult to evaluate for the overall pace due to some tightening up of hip rotators and hip flexors in response to all the cycling use they are getting. I have so much anticipation for this race mixed in with dread.
The first traumatic knee injury was so overwhelming and crushed my spirit. Because I present as someone who just gets up and dusts off to keep running, I don't think many get how deep the fall history has hurt. The setbacks in pace, another DNF, feelings of inferiority and clumsiness, and the loss of success are what I ruminate on after each fall. Part of me sees someone who perseveres and in the low moments, another part pushes that aside and sees failure.
As I run today, I hope to focus on climbing hard, feeling positive, and really enjoying the love of running with my dogs. Recent training has brought forth a much stronger runner on fewer miles. I believe it will be enough for me to do well. Yet that fear of falling is heavy in my heart. Which I recognize as insanity as it hasn't happened for several months and this different runner seems to have finally resolved this issue.
So, we set out on a journey today. A journey to understand where I am at in training while concurrently strengthening my belief in myself and my body.
The first traumatic knee injury was so overwhelming and crushed my spirit. Because I present as someone who just gets up and dusts off to keep running, I don't think many get how deep the fall history has hurt. The setbacks in pace, another DNF, feelings of inferiority and clumsiness, and the loss of success are what I ruminate on after each fall. Part of me sees someone who perseveres and in the low moments, another part pushes that aside and sees failure.
As I run today, I hope to focus on climbing hard, feeling positive, and really enjoying the love of running with my dogs. Recent training has brought forth a much stronger runner on fewer miles. I believe it will be enough for me to do well. Yet that fear of falling is heavy in my heart. Which I recognize as insanity as it hasn't happened for several months and this different runner seems to have finally resolved this issue.
So, we set out on a journey today. A journey to understand where I am at in training while concurrently strengthening my belief in myself and my body.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Polecat schmolcat
I sit here preparing to write this in my fuzzy slippers, wondering if they will be my footwear for the next few days. This run would be several 1sts for me-longest distance, all night, all night/day, and birthday miles plus.
I started this run on Saturday, 7:30 am. I've spoken with several runners who have completed 100's and wasn't really sure how I would respond to staying up all night. I used to work night shift as an RN and always struggled from 3am-5am to keep warm so that was my primary concern.
The 1st lap was just trying to warm up. Some high school kids were out and for the 1st few miles, I found myself trying to stay ahead. Dork. I reined that pace in quickly and then just started taking it easy. Lap #2 was icky. Sluggish, slow, no synchrony, upset stomach. At this point, I remembered the adage I had heard several times-if you feel bad-wait as it will change in 15 minutes. It did and thankfully for the better. After lap #2, had a great talk with Ron Baughman at the "aide station". The timing was perfect and definitely elevated my spirits after this lap. Lap #3 was smooth and felt I was somewhat sailing. By this time, it had started to warm up. I came back to the aide station around noon and Jenny Stinson was there with refreshments. It was awesome. Normally I am not a big tea drinker but this spicy stuff was tasty. I headed out after a bit for 2 laps that would be really challenging. It was hot and the blisters started. I need to either learn to run with blisters-which I don't think I am that tough yet-or find a different sock. After lap #5, Katie Holda showed with ice, food, and drink. In the heat, she bravely paced along with me for a lap. It was great to talk with someone for a while. After our lap, she spent an hour doing "surgery" on the blisters to make them manageable. Tina Khara showed when we were finishing up and she also had food. Katie left and then my son and his friend showed up and went with me for another lap. The lap prior and thereafter were pretty much all walking with some downhill jogging. It was dark now and the going was slow. Cody, however told me I was making great time for having ran all day. What a great kid!! The next few rounds were pretty uneventful aside from passing numerous Boise trail runners and chatting at leisure. I couldn't stop for long though because not only did I want as many miles as I could but keeping moving is what kept the blisters kind of numb. At mile 48, instead of doing 2 of the 6 mile loops I opted instead for 3 of the 4 mile loops. I needed the change of trail and seemed to do better mentally with aide station at that distance. The 2nd of these loops, I saw white paper trees with Christmas decor all over; flashing red lights; a black cocker spaniel scooting sideways on the trail; a person in a white shirt and blue jeans standing at Christine Kollar's blue car; and many people and things moving across the hills. Oh, and the mountain lion. He was ghost like though and I struggled to track him but he disappeared. I knew these were a factor of fatigue and the flashlight shadows but I kept seeing them. I have always assumed that I could make hallucinations resolve if I knew they weren't there. Apparently not. They finally faded about 3 hours later, about as abruptly as they started.
Some things about this were harder then I thought and some easier. Being up all night and to just keep the relentless forward motion-easier. I only wanted to sleep when I went into the aide station. The heat, blisters, and driving home-worse than I thought. Also, being able to just gut out 60 miles with minimal to no training for 2 months-that was priceless. I was fearful, as Dennis Ahern had warned me about overuse injuries and to be wary. I made a few mistakes with fueling but hydration went really well. On the 2 hot laps, I drank a full bag of water each time. All in all, it was really a success. When I struggled, I found that if I focused on what my real reason for being out there was, I could press forward. I can't emphasize enough how rewarding this was.
I started this run on Saturday, 7:30 am. I've spoken with several runners who have completed 100's and wasn't really sure how I would respond to staying up all night. I used to work night shift as an RN and always struggled from 3am-5am to keep warm so that was my primary concern.
The 1st lap was just trying to warm up. Some high school kids were out and for the 1st few miles, I found myself trying to stay ahead. Dork. I reined that pace in quickly and then just started taking it easy. Lap #2 was icky. Sluggish, slow, no synchrony, upset stomach. At this point, I remembered the adage I had heard several times-if you feel bad-wait as it will change in 15 minutes. It did and thankfully for the better. After lap #2, had a great talk with Ron Baughman at the "aide station". The timing was perfect and definitely elevated my spirits after this lap. Lap #3 was smooth and felt I was somewhat sailing. By this time, it had started to warm up. I came back to the aide station around noon and Jenny Stinson was there with refreshments. It was awesome. Normally I am not a big tea drinker but this spicy stuff was tasty. I headed out after a bit for 2 laps that would be really challenging. It was hot and the blisters started. I need to either learn to run with blisters-which I don't think I am that tough yet-or find a different sock. After lap #5, Katie Holda showed with ice, food, and drink. In the heat, she bravely paced along with me for a lap. It was great to talk with someone for a while. After our lap, she spent an hour doing "surgery" on the blisters to make them manageable. Tina Khara showed when we were finishing up and she also had food. Katie left and then my son and his friend showed up and went with me for another lap. The lap prior and thereafter were pretty much all walking with some downhill jogging. It was dark now and the going was slow. Cody, however told me I was making great time for having ran all day. What a great kid!! The next few rounds were pretty uneventful aside from passing numerous Boise trail runners and chatting at leisure. I couldn't stop for long though because not only did I want as many miles as I could but keeping moving is what kept the blisters kind of numb. At mile 48, instead of doing 2 of the 6 mile loops I opted instead for 3 of the 4 mile loops. I needed the change of trail and seemed to do better mentally with aide station at that distance. The 2nd of these loops, I saw white paper trees with Christmas decor all over; flashing red lights; a black cocker spaniel scooting sideways on the trail; a person in a white shirt and blue jeans standing at Christine Kollar's blue car; and many people and things moving across the hills. Oh, and the mountain lion. He was ghost like though and I struggled to track him but he disappeared. I knew these were a factor of fatigue and the flashlight shadows but I kept seeing them. I have always assumed that I could make hallucinations resolve if I knew they weren't there. Apparently not. They finally faded about 3 hours later, about as abruptly as they started.
Some things about this were harder then I thought and some easier. Being up all night and to just keep the relentless forward motion-easier. I only wanted to sleep when I went into the aide station. The heat, blisters, and driving home-worse than I thought. Also, being able to just gut out 60 miles with minimal to no training for 2 months-that was priceless. I was fearful, as Dennis Ahern had warned me about overuse injuries and to be wary. I made a few mistakes with fueling but hydration went really well. On the 2 hot laps, I drank a full bag of water each time. All in all, it was really a success. When I struggled, I found that if I focused on what my real reason for being out there was, I could press forward. I can't emphasize enough how rewarding this was.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
No turning back
Little did I know that my title would move from an emotion to a physical situation. Billie, Michael, and I headed for Manitou Springs, CO on Saturday, July 9, 2011. I had entered the Triple Crown of Running Series and had been unable to run the 1st race in August due to injury. I had hoped I would be able to run the Summer Roundup Trail Run and thought I might right up until race morning when I decided not to. My priority for this trip really was to get on Pikes Peak and summit. I DNF'd the race last year and this has been an incredible weight on my shoulders.
Billie and Michael raced Sunday morning and then we accomplished The Incline. This is about 2,000 feet vertical gain in 1 mile. We opted to go down on the trail, which was a hike for me due to overuse injury still complaining. It was a fabulous day but I was itching for Monday to come so I could set off to do what I had come for.
We got a late start Monday morning and didn't reach the trailhead until about 1000. We all headed out together. My foot still will not allow a run so my intent was to walk this and still beat my times from last year. It was cool to watch my heart rate jump to 150 range on what I perceived as a little effort. I reached Barr Camp, which is the 1st cutoff, a full hour ahead of last years failure. Awesome! I stopped to use their Necessary Room and went off again. Billie and Michael periodically waited for me as they were having a great run. Next, I made it to the A-Frame, also well within the race cutoff time. Shortly before this, I passed Michael and Billie heading down. Thunder had become audible and they were rightfully intimidated by the weather and headed back. It was at this point that I fully realized how much completing this climb was going to mean to me. Honestly, I wanted to call them to come with me but it wouldn't have been right to put that pressure on them with the coming storm. But I also knew I was going to be alone in bad weather and was a bit wary. But, I continued anyway. I had not seen lightning yet and would later learn it was because the mountain was hiding it.
The next significant point was treeline. I can't begin to express how I felt being at that point on this great mountain that I had observed from town only hours earlier. It was overwhelming. It was also breathtaking-literally and figuratively. After about 1 1/2 miles, or more than an hour of travel time, the storm hit. I was exposed and trying to keep an eye on the goal and my safety. When the hail and rain started to fall, I put my shell jacket on and left my long sleeve shirt tied around my waist, a mistake I would later seriously regret. I am not always poorly planned but this time I was. I was wearing a skirt and did not bring pants. I also brought only one shirt that is good to about 40 degrees. No, I had no other emergency equipment.
The thunder got louder and lightning was incredible and close. I was ahead of another hiker when lightning struck towards the mountain. I later found out it hit a car. I turned to him and asked if he thought we were all right and he said he hoped so. Stupid question I know, but you can't even begin to know how my heart felt about this goal. Next, lightning struck the mountain about 100 yards ahead of us from what I was later told. This also shut down communication in the mountain gift shop. Reflexively, I turned and ran about 5 steps to him and asked if we should go to the tree line for cover. Dork. Not the greatest idea again but know how determined I was. We were 3/4 mile from the top by now. He said we should take shelter against a rock. I said I am not dressed for that and I was going to head for the rock cave that was just a short ways ahead. I got there and it was occupied by a couple who were thrilled to let me in. She was very savvy about these situations and he was very hypothermic. I was cold. I took my shirt and covered my legs and scooted as far back as I could. We huddled together for about 1/2 hour waiting for the storm to pass. We left with a less frightening cloud cover overhead and light rain. There were apparently 5 of us out on the mountain that had taken shelter and we moved to the summit as quickly as we could.
I made it to the top!! I was freezing, too cold for a picture. Long sleeve shirts were $30 and I only had $20. I asked someone what the temp was and they said with the wind chill factor, it was 15 degrees.
Yes, I was poorly prepared and it was a rough experience. Would I do it again with a storm threat? Absolutely. I am in that euphoric stage still. I will plan better next time, though and become more educated on emergency actions in negative scenarios.
When I reached the top, I felt I had a fragment of the resolve that ultrarunners have when they need to complete that 100 mile race knowing that the wheels are coming loose. It may have been reckless, but there really was no turning back. I could not go home again to face the demons of a DNF.
As the plane took off to Boise Tuesday morning, I looked out and could see Pikes Peak. It was a fabulous feeling to know I had been on top and had accomplished something I could not do 11 months ago. I made the final cutoff doing the entire climb at a walk so know with a healthy foot, it would have been even better. Besides the whole emergency learning experience, I learned I am powerful and strong. I am WOMAN, hear me roar!!
Billie and Michael raced Sunday morning and then we accomplished The Incline. This is about 2,000 feet vertical gain in 1 mile. We opted to go down on the trail, which was a hike for me due to overuse injury still complaining. It was a fabulous day but I was itching for Monday to come so I could set off to do what I had come for.
We got a late start Monday morning and didn't reach the trailhead until about 1000. We all headed out together. My foot still will not allow a run so my intent was to walk this and still beat my times from last year. It was cool to watch my heart rate jump to 150 range on what I perceived as a little effort. I reached Barr Camp, which is the 1st cutoff, a full hour ahead of last years failure. Awesome! I stopped to use their Necessary Room and went off again. Billie and Michael periodically waited for me as they were having a great run. Next, I made it to the A-Frame, also well within the race cutoff time. Shortly before this, I passed Michael and Billie heading down. Thunder had become audible and they were rightfully intimidated by the weather and headed back. It was at this point that I fully realized how much completing this climb was going to mean to me. Honestly, I wanted to call them to come with me but it wouldn't have been right to put that pressure on them with the coming storm. But I also knew I was going to be alone in bad weather and was a bit wary. But, I continued anyway. I had not seen lightning yet and would later learn it was because the mountain was hiding it.
The next significant point was treeline. I can't begin to express how I felt being at that point on this great mountain that I had observed from town only hours earlier. It was overwhelming. It was also breathtaking-literally and figuratively. After about 1 1/2 miles, or more than an hour of travel time, the storm hit. I was exposed and trying to keep an eye on the goal and my safety. When the hail and rain started to fall, I put my shell jacket on and left my long sleeve shirt tied around my waist, a mistake I would later seriously regret. I am not always poorly planned but this time I was. I was wearing a skirt and did not bring pants. I also brought only one shirt that is good to about 40 degrees. No, I had no other emergency equipment.
The thunder got louder and lightning was incredible and close. I was ahead of another hiker when lightning struck towards the mountain. I later found out it hit a car. I turned to him and asked if he thought we were all right and he said he hoped so. Stupid question I know, but you can't even begin to know how my heart felt about this goal. Next, lightning struck the mountain about 100 yards ahead of us from what I was later told. This also shut down communication in the mountain gift shop. Reflexively, I turned and ran about 5 steps to him and asked if we should go to the tree line for cover. Dork. Not the greatest idea again but know how determined I was. We were 3/4 mile from the top by now. He said we should take shelter against a rock. I said I am not dressed for that and I was going to head for the rock cave that was just a short ways ahead. I got there and it was occupied by a couple who were thrilled to let me in. She was very savvy about these situations and he was very hypothermic. I was cold. I took my shirt and covered my legs and scooted as far back as I could. We huddled together for about 1/2 hour waiting for the storm to pass. We left with a less frightening cloud cover overhead and light rain. There were apparently 5 of us out on the mountain that had taken shelter and we moved to the summit as quickly as we could.
I made it to the top!! I was freezing, too cold for a picture. Long sleeve shirts were $30 and I only had $20. I asked someone what the temp was and they said with the wind chill factor, it was 15 degrees.
Yes, I was poorly prepared and it was a rough experience. Would I do it again with a storm threat? Absolutely. I am in that euphoric stage still. I will plan better next time, though and become more educated on emergency actions in negative scenarios.
When I reached the top, I felt I had a fragment of the resolve that ultrarunners have when they need to complete that 100 mile race knowing that the wheels are coming loose. It may have been reckless, but there really was no turning back. I could not go home again to face the demons of a DNF.
As the plane took off to Boise Tuesday morning, I looked out and could see Pikes Peak. It was a fabulous feeling to know I had been on top and had accomplished something I could not do 11 months ago. I made the final cutoff doing the entire climb at a walk so know with a healthy foot, it would have been even better. Besides the whole emergency learning experience, I learned I am powerful and strong. I am WOMAN, hear me roar!!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Excerpt from my experimental thoughts
I am almost 2 weeks into my "experiment" that I am hoping will show some dramatic improvements in my climbing abilities. On Friday, I took 2 minutes off Polecat time, which was pretty awesome. Pace and incline are just getting easier and I believe I will reach my goal of 3.2 mph which is a 1 mph improvement in just 30 days.
My method for this madness is to spend 30 minutes each day on incline trainer at 20% incline with the best pace I can muster. My initial pace was just a pokey 2.2 mph. I started low so that I could build a solid foundation. I stayed here for 4 days then up to 2.3. On a run with Amber, I quickly realized I needed to ramp up harder as the hills we were running on could be easily done at that pace. So, I was at 2.8 mph within 4 evenings.
My method for this madness is to spend 30 minutes each day on incline trainer at 20% incline with the best pace I can muster. My initial pace was just a pokey 2.2 mph. I started low so that I could build a solid foundation. I stayed here for 4 days then up to 2.3. On a run with Amber, I quickly realized I needed to ramp up harder as the hills we were running on could be easily done at that pace. So, I was at 2.8 mph within 4 evenings.
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