After a flat half marathon in Longmont, I had two weeks to kind of change focus for the mountains of Golden Gate Canyon State Park and the Black Hawk Trail Half Marathon. I hadn't been to any proper trails since the Dizzy Goat in June, and didn't find time or will to do so with the heat of July upon us. I ran repeats on the upper section of my home park in Greeley, Josephine B. Jone Park and Open Space, as often as I could. It's crushed gravel and a relatively mild 40 foot climb, but it's what I had available to me most often. It wouldn't even begin to prepare me for what I was about to face.
On Saturday July 30th I drove down to Base Camp at Golden Gate Canyon, a campground on the outer bounds of the park and near the gaming town of Black Hawk. I arrived a little later than initially planned, having watched most of a weather delayed Colorado Rapids game back home before I left.
It was a pleasant evening in the mountains. The campground had a great view of Mount Thorodin and Tremont to the north. It was a quick walk around the sold out camp ground. There was a general store with alcohol available at the attached Pickle Liquors. (They sold t-shirts, they thought it was so clever.) I did grab some beer, something I normally wouldn't do on the night before a race, but figured it might help me get to sleep early.
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| Pickle Liquors |
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| Mt Thorodin to the left - Tremont toward the middle |
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| Camp |
I don't know if it's true, but it seems that camping before a race is a rite of passage for trail runners. This was my first time doing so. My wife and I bought this ten very early on in our dating life with the best intentions of being outdoorsy people after camping on a friend's family land. It hadn't even been used in the 9 years since. I finally put it up, cheap piece of shit from K-Mart that it is. The bungees holding the hooks on the rain cover weren't all tied, but I got them good enough to hold for one night. I used a crooked charcoal grill on the campsite to warm up some lentils and rice I premade at home. Then I was in my sleeping bag pretty close to sundown, even with the campground noises like a nearby campfire singalong to the greatest hits of the likes of Pink Floyd and John Cougar Mellancamp.
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| Camp Lentils |
The alarm I set on my watch roused me, and I put on my run gear. For this race it was my Newton BoCo Sol shoes, my go-to Feetures socks, Reebok 2in1 Shorts, some unbranded tech shirt I picked up somewhere, and my VegRunChat Halo Headband.
It was a little tough getting things going that early in the morning. I couldn't manage to get the tent rolled back up to fit in its bag (Still haven't fixed that over a week later,) the elastic inside one of the tent polls came undone, and somewhere between the tent and my truck I misplaced my wallet. After everything was loaded up I went over by the general store where I could be a little more noisy and dug more for it and walked back to the campsite to give it one last once over, no dice. I didn't worry too much initially. It was perplexing, but I was pretty sure that it had to be in the truck somewhere, and I had to go.
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| 5am |
The race was a little ways away from the campground. I found it easily enough, following the signs that Endurance Race Series put up. It was a drive though. I arrived fairly early, and kept looking for my wallet as I ate a little food and used a restroom at the parking lot a few times. I didn't have a substantial breakfast, I was going a little light on fuel but took a couple of Larabars with me after having felt some hunger in my previous race.
At the start line we were notified that the race was to be 12 miles, rather than the usual half marathon distance. That didn't bug me so much. I had heard of trail races having fluctuations in mileage. I guess you could change the name of the race, but whatever. I felt like I could probably use the restroom one more time, but it was time to start.
This one started really rough. I was not feeling it within the first mile. I knew I was under-prepared, but my brain was foggy, my legs were week, I kept wondering where my wallet was, maybe my camp neighbors came into my tent and stole it, and I knew I was going to need to poop before long. I was able to stay with the same group of people for the first 4 miles, but kind of lost them on a climb and then into the second aid station. After that I was on my own for a couple miles with the occasional person passing me. Just ahead of mile 5 the course begins to climb and climb with no reprieve. I grouped up with a couple of guys ahead of me and a couple of girls coming up behind me and we power hiked these tight, tree-lined switchbacks for nearly 2 miles and 1,000 feet, and when we got to the top: it was fun. I felt good, like this is what this hobby is about. I just fuckin walked up a mountain. The guy in front of me turned over the top and we saw a downhill, and I said, "Well that's a welcome sight."
The misery wasn't completely over. It was a net downhill the rest of the way, but still some steep climbs to be had. I still needed to use a restroom, luckily aid 3 was at the bottom of a hill at a trailhead with facilities, possibly a more welcome site than the downhill in mile 6. After that I took it easy: Hike the steep parts, run the flat and push a little on the downhill. I really enjoyed the last few miles. I came down the final hill and turned to run into the finish at 2:29:23. I figured sub 3 hours on a mountainous course for a half would be a good enough goal. I guess I need to up that as under-prepared, a little hungover, and needing to poop I did 12 miles in 2 and a half.
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| Start/Finish and this rock |
After heading to the finish area and having a post race banana and and IPA, which, I've had beer after races twice now, and my taste buds must be really screwed up after a race because it hasn't tasted good either time. Again, there wasn't much else for the plant based athlete to refuel after the race. The same guacamole company was there as was in Longmont, but they didn't seem to have brought chips or some other guacamole delivery vehicle. So I went back to my truck to snack and find my wallet before I got too far away from the campground. I found that I stupidly left the door unlocked, right by the trail and restrooms, with all my camping gear, a couple of electronics, and my wallet presumably buried inside. I pulled out the tent and felt around to see if I left my wallet in a storage pocket then I saw it sitting on the cup holder for jump seat in the back. Sweat off my brow.
So everything worked out. Again, I leave a race satisfied, a little wiser about what I need to do to improve. I took a little rest week to start August: just three runs for a little over 20 miles. There's nothing on the calendar at this point. I did turn down a Ragnar opportunity for this upcoming weekend. I'd love to do that, but the timing's not right. I'm going to take some more time for myself, my wife and dogs and see what comes up.
Another little thing here at the end. I've been really heartbroken this morning. A woman named Michelle Walters was killed in a crash with a truck during the bike portion of the Ironman Boulder race yesterday (8/7/16). Michelle was also a participant with me at the Dizzy Goat Trail Races in June, and, though I didn't really make friends with anyone out there, I recognize her photo, and there was so much comradery in this little limited entry race where you're all repeatedly running the same 3 mile loop and encouraging the same faces for hours on end, I can't help but feel some connection to her personally having done that race, somewhat, together.
We're also coming up on the third anniversary of my brother-in-law's and 5th anniversary of my cousin's deaths in a traffic crashes, and this stuff weighs so heavily on my mind all the time. More than 30,000 people die due to car crashes every year in the US. Most of these are because of little mistakes. There is no excuse for it. Follow the rules. Pay attention to driving when you are driving. Stay between the lines. Stop at stoplights and stop signs and look both ways and down sidewalks and bike lanes. This starts with each of us.
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