Reflections and Trials and the Highlands Ranch Backcountry Wilderness Half Marathon

I want to remember how miserable I feel at the end of a race.

It's been well over three weeks since the Backcountry Wilderness Half Marathon, a 100% runnable trail race; much more gentle terrain than the Black Hawk race at the end of July, and my time showed that: just over 2 hours. Second best half marathon and my PR was set on an extremely flat course. This wasn't crazy, some 1100' of climbing, certainly nothing to sneeze at.

It was an interesting course. Once outside of the concrete path connecting a park and rec center to the ritzy Highlands Ranch homes built tall and feet from each other's walls to fit in all their excess space, it followed what seemed like road along the edge of pasture: Two parallel tire ruts worn into the wild grasses, pocked with prairie dog holes. The climbs were gentle and the downhills were perfect for making up time. I'd seen it pointed out that the trails were probably made more with mountain bikes in mind than for hiking or running. For 8 miles they went, wide and rolling and smooth, then things switched up. We were treated to a single track: rocky and rooty, just when you're comfortable and maybe feeling a little lackadaisical about picking up your feet. And it started with a good downhill section with no room to pass those who may not have the same confidence. I knew that steady descent meant that we'd have to soon go back up, and that's were it started to get hard. That's what I want to remember.

There's a lot of good in making the best of things. That's not something many people who've known me would expect that I'd be good at, but it something that I've really gotten in the habit of. Even things that would often try my last nerve have become things that I almost enjoy ( like work.) It's running that has precipitated this obnoxious positivity. It's the trials of racing to that finish line, that is where you find the strength. I feel like in the minutes and the hours after crossing that line and I've had a bunch of water and a little food and I've caught my breathe, I so quickly forget how miserable those last miles were. I downplay that conversation those parts of my mind were having while assessing the pain and the weakness and the distance still to go and the fight to determine how much I would give it and how much I would give in. When I'm back home and posting the finished info to Strava and the pictures of my smile and medal to Instagram, even I am already not appreciating what I went through. 

This time I want to make myself remember because I started so strong, but the last 2 miles felt so long, and I know I could have probably given a little more, but what I gave at the time felt like the bottom of the tank. I want to remember how awful the race in Black Hawk was, at the first half, because I was hungover and need to shit during a race that would be tough in the best conditions. I want to remember the time lost in Longmont with less than a mile left when the weaker part of my will won the argument and I slowed to a walk to get my legs back under me, I damn well could have waited five more minutes til I was finished to do that. I want to remember that feeling at the Dizzy Goat of that 9th lap that the gals at the scoring table were surprised I wanted to do, and the pain of getting up that hill, of falling, of grasping at the waistline of my sagging, sweat-soaked shorts as I pushed through to the finish a final time. I look at the photo of my face as I did that. It's tough to remember the feeling, though.

I want to remember looking back so that next time I can remember that I've been there before, I've faced it, I reacted either with perseverance or not and to know that I can do it again, better, stronger. These trials I'm putting myself through by choice, because the reward in the end is so great: confidence and strength and joy -- fucking joy!

It is a privilege to run and a privilege to choose your trials. I've taken it so for granted for so long, but now I recognize it. I'm grateful for it. I want to remember the hard times I choose to face because I've long attempted to avoid hard times in reality, but that's where the measure of yourself is found and forged.

A photo posted by Matthew Ronne (@matthewronne) on Nov 5, 2016 at 6:33pm PDT

Aaaand two months later

Jeez, blogs always start off with the best of intentions. Well, this one is about my running, and to be fair, August and September were as quiet as this blog was on that front. I had a strong month of running in August, no races though, and at the end of the month picked up an IT band issue that led to a lot of rest in September. Anyone who's had an IT issue know that they seem to just linger, but with some regular stretching and a new focus on other exercise outside of running, it's gotten to be quite manageable, and I'm back to over 30 miles each of the past couple of weeks.

I've spent these weeks in between races focusing on my run club. It's the best part of what running has brought me. There is so much importance there. We humans are social animals. We can't ignore that. I keep meeting new, friendly people through running. As an adult, that can be a tough thing, making new friends. Run club is an invaluable part of my life.

I am signed up for a race, a trail half marathon on November 5 with a couple of the ladies from run club, I also will do the local Turkey Trot 5k on Thanksgiving. I've incorporated some speed work into my routine a bit lately, I am gunning for besting my 5k PR there. It's been a while since I put my focus on that.

Other than running, I am planning on participating in Vegan Month Of Food or VeganMoFo here on this blog. That's a deal where bloggers are given a daily food topic to post about. VeganMoFo happened in October in 2011, which was the month I gave myself a vegan diet challenge 5 years ago that I have not and do not expect to go back on. I thought it would be a good thing for me participate in this year to give myself a challenge to blog every day, work on some of the creative energy I'm feeling right now, and to play with and share some of my remedial recipes. So look forward to that in November.

To go with October challenges, I'm working on consistent morning routines like is so the rage right now. Every morning so far this month has started early with at leat 15 minutes of meditation, then a quick exercise. It's mostly been some sit-ups, pushups and planks, with a little variation, (like the pushups were out of the question a few days in with some soreness from jumping into the routine a bit too much too quick,) but consistency grows on itself. That's what I'm going for, not just to be able to run as long and far as I want, but to be my best self.
So that's my little refresher. 

I hope everyone has a great October.

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Black Hawk Trail Half Marathon Race Report

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.

Pickle Liquors

Mt Thorodin to the left - Tremont toward the middle

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.

Camp Lentils

I slept pretty good except for my neighbors waking up at one point and cursing loudly in the middle of the night for some reason. Well that didn't make me feel so bad for having to get up be a little noisy breaking camp at 5.

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.

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.

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.

Loveland Classic 10k | Race Report

I’m really building up training for a 6 hour race in June. There are benefits to mixing a couple races into the training, but a 10k is pretty short at this point in training. Nonetheless, my run club set up a team to run the Loveland Classic 10k and we needed three people to get the team discount, so I promised to go. Since I haven’t actually raced anything longer than a 5k and this is the closest race that is over 5k, I knew I could throw that into a Saturday and make up the training miles on Sunday.

Loveland is 20 some miles away from home, but the traffic situation can make it questionable as to how long it takes to get there. I’ve done it in 15 minutes up to 45. I gave myself an hour from leaving home to the time when registration opened, and I arrived in 20 minutes flat. Everything was being set up at that point and I was able to check in right away, so it wasn’t terrible, except it was cold. It was supposed to be a warm day, and it eventually was, but it started out pretty chilly. April has been so unpredictable for that around here. I was shivering in my running shorts and long sleeve shirt with gloves. So I went out on the path the race was to be on and started running to warm up. 

I think having nearly an hour-and-a-half, to warm up and fuel and hit the restroom was actually a good plan. I was able to really get loose and hydrate and greet my teammates as they arrived. As race time got about 15 minutes out, I ditched my long sleeve and gloves, (which I probably could have left on,) and went the quarter mile out from the race expo area to the 10k start line.

This is an area just off I-25 here in Northern Colorado where there’s a strip mall, an outlet mall, some office buildings, a hospital, and some apartments. There are two little lakes with this 3+ mile recreational path around them which is where the 5k and 10k took place. The 10k started a little way down the path and a few minutes ahead of the 5k and took nearly two loops of the course. The course is flat and about half is on concrete with a lot on gravel and dirt. I was worried about a bottleneck on such a narrow path to start, but there really wan’t a problem. 

When the race started I stayed a few feet behind one of my run club teammates who I know runs a strong pace, expecting that she would help me reserve some at the start, as I’m not good at pacing myself early. After about half a mile, I decided I was holding back a bit too much, so I passed her and took off to the sound of her cheering me on.

With my fancy Garmin watch, I kept an eye every couple of miles on my pace, and I really paid attention to my breathing (Something I’ve really been working on.) Going through the finish line area for the first lap I felt fast and my legs felt good and my pace was steady. I looked at the course ahead and had a little conversation with myself about facing another lap saying, “This is what we are here to do, we’ve got nothing else to do. Everything’s good. We’re having a great race. Just keep going,” because running the same thing twice can seem monotonous sometimes. On the second lap, about mile 4, I passed an older guy and put a mental target on the back of another runner who seemed to be going about my pace, thinking if I can stay with him or close in on him, I’ll have a strong finish. About mile 5, I was finally starting to feel some fatigue. I didn’t slow down too much, but I heard footsteps coming up on my shoulder, from out of nowhere I got passed by another guy about my age. I let him go to my left and I focused back on my breathe, instead of my legs, as we turned around a corner to where you can see the finish line. For the last half mile I found some final strength and paced the guy who had just passed me, got up on his heels a bit and we both passed the other guy who I had been reeling in for most of the second lap right as we crossed the finish. I gave that guy a high five and congratulated him for his run. Then I went to go find some fruit and to cool down for a minute before my first run club teammate would finish.

Some two and a half years ago my brother-in-law was killed in a car crash. We spent several days holding vigil in the aforementioned hospital near this race, and I spent some time walking this path around these lakes during those days. The area in the second lap where I got passed is a spot where a dirt access road meets the sidewalk that opens up to see the hospital across the street. This is one of the incidents in my life that has sparked my pursuits in endurance athletics over the past few years. Those memories weighed a bit in the back of my mind. I’m not too sentimental. I don’t believe my brother-in-law is out there looking down on us, but running this race on these paths (where I walked around, trying to get out of the waiting room, to get some fresh air while my family was facing such a horrible situation) now these few years later and how much my life has changed since then and not in a small way because of that tragedy in my family and trying to come to terms with what life should be for me, something felt a little symbolic to be running a race here. As I waited for my teammate I really let myself look back on that again for a minute. Then I got up with camera in hand to snap a pic of my fellow run club member crossing the finish line.

Karla, the run club teammate I started the race with, finished about 4 minutes after I did. We waited then for our third teammate, Sue, (who is awesome, having run her first marathon a couple months ago in her mid 60s.) Though she’s slower than us thirty-somethings, she’s the only one of us three who took home an age group award!

….

The previous Thursday at run club I set a PR on the 10k at just under 52 minutes. That was sort-of race day practice and I had a goal for 50 minutes for the race. The course at the Loveland Classic is flat and fast and the weather was cool and everything just went about as well as I could hope for, and I had a monster run. I kept a pretty steady pace for me, with my slowest mile at 7:45 and fastest 7:34. I turned in an official time of 47:49 to finish 23rd overall. It was just a great race all around. Green Events here in northern Colorado puts on a great event, and I’ll be happy to race one of their many runs again. 

The focus is still on the Dizzy Goat 6 Hour race coming up in June. I’ve got some heavy training weeks between now and then. My running is strong right now. I’m really confident. I can’t wait to see how much I can get out of this body of mine.

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All photos by Green Events, posted publicly on Facebook