Denver Marathon

Well, it’s done. The pain will be lasting for a few days though, my guess is by Wednesday I’ll have full function in my legs back. I didn’t make my sub-4:00 goal, not by a long shot. New blisters started forming and subsequently popping starting around mile 5 and going until mile 22-23, and my legs turned into jello about halfway through. I hoped my general fitness would help me to a quicker time, but no such luck. The three weeks of not being able to do anything at all really killed me, as my HR was up around 190 even while churning out 8:00-8:30 miles. I finished in 5:09:45.

Now a couple thoughts on the race. First, the number of toilets at the start was grossly insufficient. I got there at 6:30, immediately got in line, and barely had time to run over to the bag check and make it to the starting line before the race started. Next, the course that is billed as “flat” is anything but. There are hardly any flat sections, and there are a few multi-mile long gradual, soul crushing hills scattered through the event. The Gu tables really should’ve been stationed right before water stations, rather than out on their own, but that’s not a huge issue, and finally, they need to get some real beer for the finish. I didn’t even bother going to the beer tent, since I’ve heard MGD64 is even worse than Michelob Ultra. Come on, we just did 26 miles, at least give us some High Life. Other than these issues, the event was run pretty well. Volunteers were largely great, traffic control was flawless (for the runners; I’ve read horror stories from people trying to drive through the mess). The official course cyclists were everywhere and helpful.

Once my legs recover, I think I’ll get working on speed for a while, since I can’t do any weight training for a couple more months. I feel a need to go back and do it right (ie break 4:00) but we’ll see how that goes.

Back at it

Well, the sling is finally off after a miserable three weeks. I rode my bike for the first time since the crash, and it was great. I don’t think I’ll be able to do any cyclocross racing this year, or at least not until November. My bike to work percentage was crushed by this. I was up around 96% for the year, and as of today I’m at 88.89%, and it’ll take four solid weeks just to get me back to 90%. At least I should break 200 days for the year.

In other news, the Denver Marathon is on Sunday. I haven’t been able to run for the past three weeks due to this, and except for one run in between this and a prior injury recovery, I’ve run about 5 miles in the past two months. My goal is sub-4:00, but I’ll be happy just to finish, given the circumstances.

Out of commission

There haven’t been any posts in a little while now, and while I’ll try to get some content up, I won’t be doing a whole lot for two more weeks, as a result of dislocating my shoulder in a bike crash on my way home from work early last week. I’m wearing an external-rotation sling which is a miserable contraption that holds your arm out in front of you at a 90 degree angle. It comes off in two weeks, which happens to be 2-3 days before the marathon that I’ve been unable to sufficiently train for. It’s destroying my bike to work ratio, which was over 95% and will be under 90% by the time it comes off. I just hope it doesn’t interfere with cyclocross or ski seasons.

Tour de Fat – Denver

New Belgium’s Tour de Fat came to town today, and as usual, it was a blast. Although I wasn’t thrilled about having to wake up early (for a Saturday, after going out), it was definitely worth it. Despite the forecast for rain, plenty of people turned out.

We arrived at 10, just in time to get started. This is one of the first awesome contraptions seen for the day, and I have no idea how they got up and going on it.


The sun broke through the clouds for a while, which made for a great bike parade.


Here’s another pretty darn cool bike-thing.


The hill down 12th to Lincoln made for great powersliding, and riding through the streets of downtown surrounded by bicycles is, as always, awesome.


After winding around town, it was back to City Park for the festivities. They held a ride-slow “race,” last person across the finish line (without falling, stopping, or trackstanding) wins. I made it into one of the six heats (of six), and almost got to the finals, but fell. The winner got a totally sweet belt, which I am now envious of.


Sara and I in front of the stage.


I’m not sure if they were official or not, but there were some Twinkies guys there. I think this guy was having some issues.


And the dog from the Denver Cruisers ride was back, with a new outfit.


The rideable art arena was back, with some incredibly cool (and ridiculous) machines. I really want one of these:


Spin!


This thing was pretty much unridable by anyone.


And then there was a bike with rear-mounted handlebars. Interesting.


And who could forget the sneaker-bike?


And here are the Four Horsemen of the Carpocalypse, in preparation for a bike giveaway.


We left before they did the trade of a car for a commuter bike, which was a good idea as it started raining and got pretty cold on the ride back home. Good times.

Rock Climbing in Boulder Canyon

So today Hans, Mel, Sara, and myself went climbing in Boulder Canyon. I have no idea the name of the crag, other than it was about 14.5 miles past the bridge and required crossing a creek (which was not very warm). This was my first day out on the rock all season (I know, lame) and it was a blast. I just woke up from a nap so I’ll keep this one simple.

Hans leading the first route of the day, a 5.7.



Me, on that same route.



Sara, on the same route.



Mel, on the same route.



Hans leading the next route of the day, a 5.8.



Sara on the 5.8.



The last route before having to leave for the day was a 5.10a, which is just to the left of the route in the last picture (up along the large crack). I was a little hesitant, but with some encouragement and advice from below, I was able to send it. Hopefully I can get back out again before it gets into ski season, as the odds of me going climbing once the snow falls are pretty low.

Denver Cruisers – Decades

Last night (Wednesday) was Denver Cruisers’ weekly summer ride, this time with the theme of “Decades.” Pretty open ended. Anyway, it was my first time going, and it was a blast. Things started off at the Gin Mill, with a meeting time of 6:30. I figured I’d be home 9-10 or so. Nope, things didn’t even get going from there until about 8:30.


Pimpin’ ain’t easy.


There was easily a few hundred people out for the ride (and despite it not being a “booze cruise,” it certainly was).


This is…somewhere.


Wow.


The first stop (at a bar/venue that I don’t remember the name of) had a rockin’ band, and…a stripper pole? Not quite what I was expecting.


Good times, and I’m sure I’ll join them again. And I really, really need to get a cruiser bike.

Back to Longs Peak

“I want to drink SO MUCH BEER.”

It’s early Saturday morning and Nate is talking about how many pitchers he’s going to order when we get to the Dark Horse. Most of Denver is still asleep.


To be fair, it had already been a long day at that point. I’d been up since 11:15pm (after a 4 hour nap). Nate had the luxury of sleeping in an extra half hour. We were on our way down from the summit of Longs Peak, after sprinting up the Homestretch to catch sunrise by less than a minute.

It was a great morning. Despite only getting a few hours of sleep and waking up before most people we know had even gone to bed, we were able to keep a fast, comfortable pace all the way to the top. Here’s Nate enjoying the view as well as his chapstick during sunrise. One person passed us on the way up and was waiting for the sun to come up on top, but had to head down before it did, as he was getting too cold to stand around despite the total lack of wind.


And a look over to Meeker.


Yeah!


The view to the Northwest.


The view across the Narrows on the way down. We would pass a couple people through here, but not enough to cause any slowdowns.


When we hit the Trough, we saw the train of people who’s headlights we saw marching up towards the keyhole a couple hours prior. 30 minutes later on the way down and we would’ve hit a major logjam. I counted 48 people in this photo, and the top of the trough isn’t even visible. There are dozens upon dozens of people below us.


We were asked by countless people, “how much longer to the top?” Nate told one guy who asked low in the trough “about an hour.” He was dismayed as he had been told an hour by the guy who left ahead of us roughly half an hour earlier. Nate’s guess was accurate (if not on the low side) based on the guy’s current pace, but of course not what he wanted to hear. The estimates of course got longer as we progressed, until we neared the keyhole and the response became “about as long as it’s taken you to get this far.” This is really not what people wanted to hear. It actually became entertaining to be the mountain’s unofficial demoralizers to people with shiny new gear and absolutely no idea what they were doing.

We had a blast scrambling down, and racing up small rock formations that were conducive to sprint-scrambling (or as Nate would call it, “spiderman shit”). One person even remarked that Nate was “dancing on the rock.”

The boulder field was an absolute blast, and we discussed the intricacies of what differentiates leaps, bounds, and simple jumps, of course with countless examples. Of course, at what point can you draw the line between a “leap” and a mere “bound?” If you take a leap but shorten it by a millimeter each time and continue repeating, at some point it will cease to be a leap. But where? Just look at statistical usage of the word “leap,” decide using that average, end of story. Oh snap, philosophers! Did Mike just totally school you with his statistically-based descriptivist approach to semantics? IT APPEARS THAT HE TOTALLY DID!! It also appears that he’s speaking in the third person because he’s so impressed with his awesome self!
[thanks to Ryan North for inspiring this passage]

After the boulder field, we tried to keep up a good pace as both of us wanted to be done, and go get our beer and burger at the Dark Horse. Hey look, a heap of rocks!


And a look back at Chasm View.


Sun’s out, guns out!

Yeah!

Time counting stops other than the summit was 7:40. Total time right at 8:20, which is substantially faster than I’ve ever done the trip, and my average heart-rate was only 118.

The Dark Horse was great, with a hickory bacon cheeseburger w/ fries for only $5. I love that place.

Tenmile Traverse

I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. That’s because yesterday, I set off to do the Tenmile Traverse. The traverse starts in Frisco where you head up Peak 1, then continue along all the numbered peaks in the range until you get to Peak 10 in Breckenridge and descend back to town. I was successful in my attempt, with 17.5 miles and over 8,000′ of climbing completed in 10:15, but it was such an amazing experience that photographs and numbers can’t adequately describe it. I hope that I’m able to come close.

This is a day that’s been in the works for some time. I thought about it last year, then planned to do it on my birthday last month. It was put off until now due to conflicting scheduling, and I’m glad it did, because yesterday couldn’t have been more perfect.

It started like any other long day in the mountains. I woke up to the sound of two alarms going off almost simultaneously at the ridiculous time of 2:15am. Scout didn’t realize it was that early, and so was excited to get up and run outside as if it were any other morning. I moved a little more slowly, getting dressed, making two big breakfasts (one to eat at home, one to eat at the trailhead) and tea for the drive. It was right around 3am when I hit the road, and 4:30 when I pulled into the parking lot.

As I was eating breakfast #2 I talked to a guy in a group of 5 who was also getting ready to head out. Turns out they were also there for the traverse. I had hoped for solitude for the day, but figured a little occasional company wouldn’t be so bad. We all started for Peak 1 about 10 before 5, meaning there would be plenty of time to get above treeline for sunrise.


I got ahead of the group in the trees and opened up some distance, and was really able to enjoy the serenity of the pre-dawn morning.


It’s unfortunate that camera sensors have such a limited dynamic range compared to the human eye. These pictures just can’t compare to actually being there.


Better images can be had with better equipment, but I was traveling light this day, only a 12 pound pack including food and water. I wanted to enjoy the experience, rather than suffer by hauling several extra pounds up and down the mountains of the Tenmile Range.

By this point I truly was enjoying the whole experience, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Being alone above treeline before sunrise is always great. Soon enough, the first of 10 objectives came into view.


The sun hit on the approach to Peak 1, which made for some great views.


Doing something like this really makes you realize how close together so many of the ranges in the state are. Here are the Gore getting some alpenglow.

And the group that was also attempting the traverse this day. They were fairly loud, and I was amazed how well sound travels up in the mountains when the air is still.

And finally, Peak 1 bathed in alpenglow. This was a substantial hike, and isn’t a bad target in and of itself, at about 3,500′ of elevation gain.


A couple hours in, the summit was reached.

Peak 1 was a great warmup for what was to come. Peak 10 is visible here, far off in the distance on the left side of the picture. The coming ridgeline on the way to peaks 2, 3, an
d 4 is the most difficult portion of the traverse. It’s said that it can be kept to class 3, but my route had some solid class 4 (though I was able to avoid anything class 5).


The ridge from 1 to 2 was largely uneventful (though still a fun scramble), and there are no photos here of it. Visible here is “the dragon,” along the ridge from 2 to 3. It is the most technically demanding section of the day.

Here’s a look back. I started off on the west side and looked a few times for exits onto the top of the ridge. It was an unbelievably fun (though stressful) section, and I’m glad the group was there to help with routefinding through it. No good pictures from the dragon as I was focusing on getting through it, plus the lack of color variation made most of the photos worthless.


This is taken from the summit of Peak 3, showing the immediate change in terrain after reaching Peak 4. This ridge was less difficult than the preceeding two, but there were still a lot more “you fall you die” moments than I was expecting. The ridge up to 4 was generally a couple feet wide, but with vertical drop offs on either side. It was fun, but became very mentally draining by the end.


And at long last, Peak 4 and its accompanying gentle, rolling terrain was reached. This was a huge relief, making the coming easy tundra walk far more rewarding than it otherwise would have been.


I set off for Peak 5, leaving the other group behind for the rest of the day. I would not be within shouting range of anyone else that day until I was heading back down into Breckenridge in the afternoon. I finally had the solitude I wanted.

I didn’t even stop moving while going over Peak 5, as it was little more than a small bump along the ridge without anything of real interest. The following photo was taken between peaks 5 and 6. It was the most blissful, serene moment in the mountains I’ve ever experienced. There was a small dip, filled with short grass blowing in the constant, moderate breeze in the ridge. The lighting was perfect, and it was silent except for the wind. I had no choice but to sit down and simply experience it for a few minutes. The beauty of the morning, the camaraderie seen through the difficult sections, and the danger of the climb all came together and hit me at once. I felt like I could have stayed there forever.


Sadly, I had to get up and keep moving. Things started to get more physically demanding again after Peak 6. Peak 7 was not terribly steep, and hitting the ski area boundary gave a mental boost as I knew I was getting closer to the end.


This shows Peak 8, with the melted-out run known as Whale’s Tail. It’s a blast in good conditions. The climb up to 8 wasn’t very difficult, as I’d done it dozens of times in the past carrying skis over my shoulder.


This is Lake Chutes from the top of Peak 8. It’s beautiful in the winter, and just as beautiful in the summer. It was nice to be covering terrain that I was familiar with, as I was starting to wear out from the long day.


This is Peak 9, with the summit being the small bump on the left. I was noticeably slower here. The miles and several thousand feet of climbing were adding up and taking their toll on me. The various emotions of the day were piling up as well, and I’m glad it was an easy walk up so that I didn’t have to be 100% focused on the task at hand.


This sight was far more demoralizing than inspiring. I’ve gone 12 miles and climbed over 7,000′, I’m exhausted, only have one mountain left, and it’s not only the highest in elevation (and one of only two over 13,000′, at 13,633′), but is covered in loose, crappy, sharp rock.


Rock that looks a little something like this. I got my only real injury here, when a loose rock smashed a finger. My fingertip was immediately red, and there’s a chance I’ll be losing another nail. Fortunately nothing’s broken. It was a hard 700′ of climbing, and despite my growing exhaustion and slowing pace, failure never even crossed my mind. I had come this far, and I would make it to the top no matter how tired I was.


An hour after leaving Peak 9, I made it. I was overjoyed, having done something of this difficulty in a single attempt. Yet almost immediately, I realized that reaching the final summit was not all that spectacular – that the journey is what really mattered, and is one of the major things I would take back from this day. I only stayed on top long enough to eat something and snap a couple pictures before heading down to town.


Here’s a look back on the route. Kind of hard to make out, as it’s pretty far off.


Down lower on Peak 10, I found these guys with a pretty cool park set up. There was also a guy skiing on a different patch of snow. Way to get after it in August, guys.


The trudge down the ski slopes felt never-ending. I wished I could have skied down, especially the farther down I got, as towards the bottom the vegetation got much thicker. There were even marshes with my most hated mountain plants, willows.


Truly an amazing day, probably the most spectacular one I’ve ever spent in the mountains. Words can’t adequately describe the experiences, emotions, and realizations of the day, which is all the more better as it’s absolutely not what I was expecting. I just thought it would be a long, challenging day in the Tenmiles, and I ended up having a near-life experience.