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Chad

I just read some articles about Chad and I'm nailed by a wall of emotion.  I don't think I've processed or been able to process because of everything that is going on while overseas in India.  Just before dinner I was looking through some messages, found articles in the New York Times and the Seattle Times and started to read them.  It let my mind go there for the first time and I had to dismiss myself from the group.  All of the conversation that is going on amongst the lodge guests where we are staying just didn't carry any weight to me, and all I could think about is that he's gone.  

I will never forget this night.  Sitting on the edge of a beautiful king size bed dressed completely in white.  There are wet spots near the center from my leaky eyes.  Now, my legs are spread to accommodate the picnic table that was brought inside to hold a fragrant Indian meal.  There is a chair opposite me, but I prefer the bed.  The sweetest guy delivered my dinner and nearly also received the story of my sadness, but I stopped myself before overwhelming the perfect stranger who is so caring that it seemed natural to share.  So instead, I write.  

A very good friend of mine has died doing what he loved most.  It was not his time and it was not his way to go.  Chad always assured me he was safe in the mountains.  In my sisterly way I would tell him to be safe, to come home to us and tell me the stories.  He wanted to grow old.  We wanted to grow old together in our adventures and sharing.  We already joke about how our bodies don't work like they used to.  I'm not super familiar with death in that I have not yet lost many close friends or family members in my adult life and I wasn't ready for the news of Chad passing.  It literally shocked me as I came to know while visiting the literal other side of the planet.  Two o'clock in the morning after a full day of travel and still waiting for our final flight I connected to the internet and the messages from friends started pouring in.  Fortunately Nikki was there and put a hand on my forearm as I started sucking in air that didn't seem to come and whispering, no.  no.  Not him.  Searching for more information to confirm the horrible.

Nikki took charge and ensured we made our next flight and currently we are not far from the geographical center of India.  Our time is 12.5 hours ahead of Colorado; half way around the world and half way around the clock.  There are two large plates in front of me full of a sampling of traditional Indian street food as well as a smattering of kabobs prepared earlier in the cooking class provided to lodge guests.  I awkwardly pick around the plate.  Dinner alone, sitting on the footend left corner of the bed staring blankly at the wall and trying to focus on the flavors of the dishes rather than blankly put food in my mouth.  Thoughts flit through my mind making me laugh and cry, sounds shared only with these four foreign walls.  My appetite is suffering, but I know I need to eat.

He is such a good person and I really don't think it was his time.  He is the one I labeled survivor.  He had so much hardship and loss in his life and yet he pushes forward with such focus, determination, humility and love for everyone around him.  He never boasts or brags, he just does.  He wants the simple things, his needs are basic.  My impression: He wants to climb.  He wants love.  He wants to provide.  He wants to fuel.  He wants community.  

If Chad wants to do something, he figures out a way.  Asking for help is a last resort.  The guy works his ass off in his construction business so that he can make the money necessary to pay his mortgage and go climb.  Intense.  Everyone that met Chad would soon after describe him with a simple phrase "that dude as intense".  Even if Chad was the lightest version of himself you could sense the intensity that powered him, that created his presence.  Every day is a schedule to fit in exactly what he wants to do.  Meditate, work, climb/workout, spend time with loved ones and eat, often blending those that he can.  He recently found a girl he is crazy about and she him.  They are each other's person.  I love seeing him so at ease and happy.  

Even though he is a couple of years older than me I treat him like my little brother.  I always worry about him, give him advice, especially about relationships, even when he didn't maybe want it and prioritized him when ever we were in the same town.  He leads by example never forcing anything but always open to share what he was tweaking with his diet, training or meditation practice.  He always shows genuine interest in my adventures and we have a great time sharing travel stories and experiences.  He is one that taught me how to climb with grace instead of strength.  And he shows amazing grace to everyone around him.  I don't think the guy ever has a bad thing to say about anyone.  Even the nay-sayers that diss on his accomplishments - he just writes it off that they must have something else going on. I'm not just saying these things because he's gone and everyone remembers the best things about people when they are gone.  Chad really is and always will be that person to me.

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Moving forward with First Endurance

August 2004, nearly 10 years ago!  Multiple back to back days of training.  Running 15-25 miles a day on the Wasatch 100 course.  Karl Meltzer was my guide and even though I thought I needed to cover the entire course he wouldn't hear of it.  

"You don't need to do that many miles Krissy.  You'll just beat yourself up."

So instead, the Ol' Speedgoat picked the choice sections and met me at the ending trailhead so that we could shuttle cars.  He always put the big white jug with a black lid in the finish trailhead car.  A jug that I would come to appreciate over our multiple days of training.

We'd shuttle around to the starting point for the day, talking mostly about what it is like to run 100 miles.  I was nervous and excited in the planning for my first at Wasatch a few weeks later.  At the trailhead we loaded our packs with treats, water and salt pills and took off down the trail.  Stride for stride for a bit, but then soon Karl's pace would quicken as he warmed up and got into his groove.  We had agreed that he would leave gel wrappers for me at trail intersections so I would know which way to go.  I was impressed that he managed to suck every last gooey drop out of each packet, so garbage duty really wasn't that bad.  At major trail junctions he would wait entertaining himself with the view and then we'd carry on.

At the end of the first day he encouraged me to try a couple scoops of this new recovery drink.  He was working with a new nutrition sponsor and was impressed with the quality of the product.  Robert, the owner, lived right there in Salt Lake and according to Karl was the nicest guy.  One thing of many things I appreciate about Karl is how straightforward he is.  When he tells you he likes something it is because he really likes it.  Likewise he's brutally honest enough to let you know when he hates it.  Thank you for the honesty.

Really, the proof was in how I felt and continue to feel.  The Ultragen recovery drink by First Endurance is jam-packed with nutrition meant for recovery.  This is not your afternoon sipping drink.  The calories and focused sugar and protein content are made for post-run (or endurance exercise) chugging.  I got to the point that I was craving it and asking Karl for my two scoops before he could offer.  The great part is I still crave Ultragen as I near the end of a long run.  

First Endurance has come out with additional Ultragen flavors and I have definitely worked through the product line finding many more supplements that help with training and recovery as well as race performance.  I now have a personal relationship with Robert and feel connected to this brand that cares about the performance of their athletes. (I feel they consider all athletes their athletes, so welcome to the club!)  Personally I am going on 10 years of using First Endurance products.  To be Speedgoat honest - it is no secret that there are other products that I train and race with.  Everyone realizes that when we are out there for hours and hours a little variety is helpful and encouraged.

Thanks Speedgoat for that introduction oh so many years ago!

Here's to many years to come!

 

I'm a WFR

I’m a WFR!  I’m pretty excited about it too.  Those ten days the alarm sounded around 5am so that I could squeeze in something that resembled a workout be it a run, swim or weights.  Before sunrise I found myself back in the kitchen, blending the smoothie I’d concocted the night before and heating Bhakti chai with homemade almond milk on the stove.  The chai mixture would likely boil over and extinguish the stove’s flame while I raced around dressing, brushing my teeth (usually skipping a shower to save time) and packing my backpack to get out the door by 7:30am and maneuver the snowy, icy drive across town.  The beautiful Colorado days unfolded in front of me, caffeine firing my sleepy brain and the sun just illuminating the flat irons.  Did I really run already, or was that just a dream?

WFR (pronounced woofer) is the acronym for Wilderness First Responder.  The Wilderness Medicine Institute provides a curriculum that is taught over a 9 or 10 day course.  The 10 day course has a built in “off” day, which was nice as I was able to squeeze in a longer run to keep me sane. 

#cheeseballs on Green Mtn.

#cheeseballs on Green Mtn.

Stepping into the classroom on day one was a blast into the distant past.  I can’t remember the last time I had to pull up a chair in a U-shaped grouping of tables and sit next to a perfect stranger.  With our common interest of love for the great outdoors, strangers quickly became familiar friendly cohorts and the group seemed to gel before we reached our first lunch break.  Thrown into classroom style learning, shared real life encounters and experiences followed by practical scenarios outside on the grass (day 1) and then snow (the rest of the course) kept the hands on the clock spinning fast and 5pm rolled around before we knew it.

Amidst the classroom attendance and required night time reading there seemed barely any time to accomplish much else.  I set an auto-response on my email accounts and hoped that nothing too pressing would enter my inbox.  I gained huge appreciation for what it takes to get everything done in a day when 9 hours are occupied (job, class, whatever) another hour in commute and a couple for working out.  There is not much time left for sleep, cooking/eating let alone paying bills, managing emails or heck finding time to engage with friends/family.  I found myself having to prioritize projects and mostly pushing tasks off till I knew the course was over.  The Chuckanut 50k registration opened that first day of class and thanks to UltraSignUp.com everything went pretty smoothly and the few tweaks were quickly fixed by the man behind the scenes, Mark Gilligan.

traction splint for a fractured femur SCENARIO

traction splint for a fractured femur SCENARIO

Our days filled with acronyms, outlines, details, specifics and generalizations and as we quickly learned a test in our acting skills.  We each took turns playing the roll of a wilderness patient in the daily scenarios to help the rest of our classmates learn.  I found myself daydreaming scenarios I might create for the class while bracing my “broken collar bone” and simulating low blood sugar.  I appreciated these hands on learning opportunities as well as the chance to get outside and put to use the lessons the instructors taught indoors.  While giving us an opportunity to practice, I also felt many more lessons were reveled.  More than the text printed in the course outline and text book, I took away more life lessons.

* Use your judgment.  Intuition is key 

So often in life we are driven to ask “What if…” and “How do I…”.  It seemed any time one of these questions was asked the instructors would respond with “Use your judgment.”  Those words are empowering.  Think.  Be present.  The best outcome will appear when we trust our gut.

* Community is created with face time  

I’m not talking FaceTime on the iPhone.  In fact put those screens away!  Humans know this, yet when sitting with a group lately I feel it is more common to see most staring south with their face brightly illuminated by a tiny screen. In the classroom setting the instructors kept us engaged with them and with each other.  We had the opportunity to connect with each other in class discussions, during short breaks and through physical contact during scenarios, all quickly building familiarity.  My phone barely made it out of my pack from 8-5 each day and only then was to check on the status of my sister who was in surgery for a blown ACL.  Staying present and focused reigned best and when I did dive into the screen I noticed how quickly I lost touch.  By the time the class came to a close I felt a familiarity like I had known a lot of my classmates for much more than 10 days, but in the same instance realized I didn’t know many details.  Just time together sharing information, performing exams in scenarios and finding reasons to laugh brought the group of 31 into a sense of community.  (29 students, 2 instructors).

* Working together means knowing yourself

This often means knowing the difference of when to step back or to step forward or knowing when falling somewhere right in the middle benefits the group.  Learning your individuals strengths and weaknesses will help you be a better team member and contributing member to your small group and in any other life interaction you can imagine.  Typically I am happy to step forward and prefer to know and understand where a situation is headed.  Here I found myself consciously and verbally asking to take a more secondary position so that I could work on another roll.

* Create efficiencies

1) Cooking/prepping breakfast and lunch the night before so I only need grab the containers from the fridge and add to my pack.  The Vitamix already packed with my smoothie ingredients made for a quick turn around after stumbling in the door after an icy morning run.

2) I basically wore the same clothing each day changing out the baselayers for hygiene purposes, I didn’t have much to think about in my morning dash to get out the door. 

* long johns or tights

* warm ski socks

* waterproof pants

* sports bra & underwear

* t-shirt

* long sleeve hoodie

* down sweater jacket

* down sweater vest

* rain jacket

* boots or approach shoes (depending on temp)

* down mittens

* wool glove liners

* beanie

* sunglasses

3) I left workout clothes, shoes and my yoga mat in my car on the chance I could squeeze in a second workout on the way home each night.  As the first night showed (I hadn’t added these things to the back of Simba yet), when I went straight home after class I likely wouldn’t make it back out the door.

* Maintaining focus and energy

By day five it was pretty apparent that everyone was a little tired from the schedule, including myself.  We all powered through knowing day six was a day off.  By powered through I mean I am giving serious credit to the instructors and the students in class.  Everyone stayed engaged asking and answering questions.  We moved around to stay alert and took the scenarios seriously.  It is easy to get through.  It is better to get the most out of the experience by putting as much as you can in and therefore reaping more benefit.  Our instructors were awesome in creating an environment that made focus and presence required and enjoyable.

 

The class wrapped up with a practical and 100 question multiple choice exam on Sunday.  Since then I packed my bags and hopped a flight to sunny Ventura, California to log some miles with teammates Jeff, Luke and Jenn.  We've had a great time running and eating the last couple of days and capturing the fun with Patagonia media staff Stuart, Jeff and Andrew.  My mind rolls through a lot of the information I learned during those ten days and I can't help but share thoughts and factoids as we cruise along these trails.  Well put by Luke - "You just spent 10 days with a fire hose of information pouring down your throat, it makes sense you are still processing."

For ten years I have felt the need to enroll in this course, I am super psyched I finally did it and encourage anyone that spends time in the wilderness to take the time for some specific training.

Smoothie Options

Every day during my WFR course I concocted a different collection of ingredients for a yummy, calorically dense smoothie.  You can get an idea from the following (starred  “*” ingredients being my favorites and guaranteed daily inclusions.)  I’m not much for measuring, so the following are estimates of my dumping ingredients into the Vitamix.

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Always in:

* 1 frozen banana

* about a thumb sized peeled & chopped piece of raw ginger (chopping into chunks is key so you don’t get the stringy pieces)

* two handfuls of burly greens (kale, chard, collard greens, spinach)

* 4 mejool dates

* 1 heaping tsp Maca powder

* 2 T 7 Sources Oil (more like 2 good “glugs” pouring straight into the blender)


Sometimes in:

1-2 carrots

2 T peanut butter

1 scoop protein powder

½ cup juice

½ cup homemade almond milk (this is easy! I’ll post a how to on that too)


Additional fruit combos:

1 C frozen blueberries

1 peeled orange and 1 peeled lemon

1 cored pear

… basically whatever I had in the basket

Going light on the Torres del Paine "W"

Author: Murray

Author: Murray

Ridiculous.  This is silly.  I am on display for the world to see and I know I don't look a thing like anyone around me.  For starters I'm only 9 inches tall, okay maybe 7.  My hair grows in only on the very tippy top of my head and is bright yellow.  It goes well with my red fur and people say it brings out my eyes.  I have a large smile and am always ready with open arms.  Of course she is going to take me with her... I'm freaking adorable.

She's got me tucked into the back pocket of her backpack staring down the world.  I'm here so she knows she's not alone. And, I've got her back just in case someone gets any ideas.  My thought, if they see the silly Murray hanging out, smiling, why would someone even think to give her grief?  The bonus for me is I've got a great view taking in her opposite vista and enjoying the protection of the shield she provides from the wind.  Sometimes it gets a little crammed back here with all of the water bottles, jackets and gloves.   In the morning I have this pocket to myself, but by afternoon when the sun starts to warm the earth and her skin, the clothing layers peel away and are subsequently stuffed into my space.  It works though.  Heck, I have no room to complain, I've got a free ride on the "W".

The morning we leave she leaves the bigger backpack at the hotel and loads me along with everything else she will need for a couple of days hiking into her Titan Ultraspire pack, which isn't much.  The blue of the pack is another great compliment to my coloring and I know the photos will look amazing.  Little did I know that the scenery we were about to witness would take my breath away.  I quickly realized my coloring had nothing to do with the amazing appearance of the memories captured with that little phone device.

I've heard her talk about her adventures on trails and I've peaked over her shoulder at a few photos, but I had no idea what power resided in those two legs.  I am not talking physical power.  I am talking about knowledge being power. When you know you can move like that, that no matter what, those pistons and engine can carry you where ever you want to go... that is a kind of power few know and those that do, cherish.  I can just tell.  The trails we covered the terrain we passed over, the many hours to go various distances, the time out all day long... it was a kind of power that is enabling.   It is not something that these ultrarunner people take for granted, it is something they develop, train and utilize to empower them through life.  They are not dependent on vehicles or  the pocket on someones backpack to get them from here to there.  To explore the world under your own power... strong, powerful, willful. Amazing. Lucky.  

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No one was in a rush to get out the door on Sunday morning.  I think I heard something about post-race sore legs and hungry bellies as the morning hours ticked by and plans formulated on the route we would pass, how many days we would be out and where we might stay along the way.  I was ready.  I sat strapped into the back of her "mochila pequena" and smiled.  This was going to be awesome.

With this group I would have thought we would race out the door once we finally got going, but they continued the casual pace of the morning walking up the trail familiar to how they'd moseyed around the hotel lobby.  Those little phone/camera thingys flying out at every turn, preceded by gasping and ahhing and "did you see that?"  I envied the bigger backpacks I noticed on the other hikers as we moved past them, I thought - Imagine how comfy I would be in there!  And " I bet there are a lot more yummy things to eat and a comfier sleeping bag to share.   But alas, you trade comfort for mobility and speed it seemed and even though everyone was walking the two smallest backpacks quickly walked away from the rest of the group.    I bounced along and waved goodbye.  It was a long way to go that first day, and my legs started to feel a bit cramped all balled up in the pack, but I didn't say a thing.  There is NO way I could have kept up with these two.  

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The way the landscape unfolded before us was completely unexpected for all of us. It seemed the consensus that we had no idea terrain could be this beautiful every step of the way.  I know she has seen many beautiful places in the world, but I heard her say multiple times that this is the most beautiful place ever.  How wonderful that I got to share it with her!  She reveled in the fact that the only access was "por pie" by foot.  Everyone that we met on the trail had to arrive by foot and therefore could only get to these remote and beautiful places under their own power.  Because of this there seemed to be a sense of unity.  It didn't matter the language, everyone made an attempt to communicate because we were all in the same place under the same power.

Some of my favorite vistas were on that first day of hiking.  The lakes meeting the mountains, the rocky beach just past the Refugio Cuerros, hiking back up into the French valley to top off the day were some of the highlights of that first full day of magnificent views.  Those two hardly shut up the entire hike, but their conversations were constantly interrupted by the beauty that surrounded us.  "Can you believe this?"  "Wait, did you see that?" It never failed that they would pick back up sharing stories, pondering issues, recounting race stories and like only good friends can do - continued to get to know each other better while enjoying the new discovery of the Chilean trails.

The French Valley

The French Valley

That first night found us camping at the Italian camp in the middle of the "W" with the group we'd started with that morning. Thanks to the two lively CU grads the entire group enjoyed the added comfort of heated water to compliment their dinner and breakfast the following morning.  The excellent hosts provided a cozy evening on "the beach" (the sandy spot with an awesome view, just outside of camp) filled with more conversation, views of the grand mountains and the serenades of the avalanches.  Talk about power!!  What first resembled thunder resulted in the view of snow cascading like a waterfall off the nearby slopes, but far enough away that the view was enjoyed rather than feared.

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Sleep did not come easily.  I believe the three of us spent most of the night trying to get comfortable and stay warm.  Going light has its advantages and now very apparent disadvantages.  In spite of donning every piece of clothing possible both fidgeted and squirmed throughout the night.  I was cozy in my little red suit, but didn't get much for sleep while they tossed and turned.  Dawn didn't come soon enough, but eventually the process of tucking everything away into those tiny packs, including me, started and the sleepy campers started walking again.  A relaxed stop once again at "the beach" to warm them from the inside both in hot beverage and caffeine I could tell it was time to go as the sleepy, quiet campers started buzzing in conversation and even from the back of her back I could sense the energy building in her legs for the miles of trail that lay ahead for that day.  

A mellow 7.5km to the Paine Grande Lodge.  The trail traversed away from the mountains and didn't undulate as much as the previous day so they were able to move a bit quicker when the cameras weren't stopping them along the way.  When the lodge came into sight to two rejoiced, literally.  They had taken the chance on their packaged meals, eating everything with the assumption that they would be able to find the next source of calories at the lodge.  Once confirmed by talking to the camp host they opted to minimize their packs and only carry the few items needed to hike the left arm of the W up to Lago Grey.  An out and back with a guaranteed dinner, shower and bed.  I think their smiles matched mine in size and appreciation.

I could tell the two were a little tired, likely from the poor night sleep.  The conversation didn't stopped, but in spite of less weight on their backs the pace slowed a bit.  More photo opportunities helped them recover, but we definitely weren't covering ground like before.  Perhaps the rough night of sleep was taking a toll, perhaps the race miles were kicking in a bit.  It wasn't a problem, moving slowly along the ridge above Lago Grey was a beautiful way to pass the afternoon hours.

The refugio near the Grey Glacier was a welcome sight and the two enjoyed a bit more fuel before starting the decent.  With only one pack, the two put their few things in the Titan.  She carried it up the trail and he carried it back down.  With the temperatures dropping my little back pocket was filled with water bottles which made it a bit less comfy.  The bottles having a mind of their own and wanting more of the space they bummed and pushed me around.  When they started the final descent back to the lodge from Lago de Pato I'd had it.  Enough bouncing around, I'm outta here!  And without a word to either human I opted to give this walking thing a try and hit the trail.  

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Free!  Dirt surrounded me, large plants soared above me.  The breeze rippled through my yellow wispy hair and red fur.  Quite a different perspective down here 7 inches from the ground.  I can't see over anything anymore and I instantly craved the views of the snowy mountains and glacier green lakes.  And forget about covering any ground when these legs cover inches instead of feet per step.  Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.  Hmmm.  Now what?  I didn't have to ponder this question for too long.  Before I knew it, a kind man with a large backpack scooped me off the trail and attached me to the side strap of his large pack.  As he continued his quick pace I heard them journey back up the trail to find me, but I was already strapped to the nice man's backpack in route for the Lago Grey lodge again, but this time under the stars.  Thankful to be five feet higher I took in the night and the views once again.  He moved quite quickly with good rhythm as the dark settled around us.  I dozed off wondering if I would ever see her again.

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Through the amazing communication of walkie talkies I was passed on to a couple descending the route the following morning, dropped at Paine Grande that afternoon and passed on to some friends of hers.  Before I knew it I was handed over and we were reunited again.  This time on a bus, leaving the spectacular mountains.  What a journey!

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I think our smiles matched in size once we were together again.  I could see her excitement about their last two days hiking. First they made the journey back along the bottom of the "W" and enjoyed a super comfy night at Hotel de los Torres.  To finish up the right arm of the "W" they opted rise early, go light and run/hike up to the base of the Torres (towers).  Apparently this was the best finish for the W hike with the views, varied terrain, and inspiring aspect from the base of the towers.  A spectacular morning and they had the place mostly to themselves.  She promised that we would come back and bring friends that want to experience the power of this magnificent place. 

A few more travel days passed in the towns of Puerto Natales and Punto Arenas before started the long journey back to Boulder.  With the love and passion she has for travel I have no doubt that this is only the beginning of many more adventures for me and further continuation of exploring the world for her.  As far as I'm concerned, I don't care how ridiculous I look, I'm game to ride along in the backpack where ever this chick wants to take me.

If you are looking for help to plan a trip in Torres del Paine I was recently (June 2018) introduced to a new site inspired by our 2013 travels. https://www.bookmundi.com/t/the-torres-del-paine-w-trek-popular-and-pristine

 

Patagonian International Marathon 63k

Never before in all of my travels have I taken as many photos through the plane side window as I did that afternoon landing in Punta Arenas.  First, landing in Santiago I snapped a shot of my first view of the Andes obnoxiously leaning over the kind Chilean woman I had made friends with the moment I sat down.  After making my way through customs and immigration and spending way too money much on a sandwich and juice it was time to board the next flight on LAN airlines to Punta Arenas.  Fortunately I had a window seat and it was late afternoon, so we (my iPad and I) were able to take in the amazing scenery of the Patagonian mountains spreading out before us.

 ** Because I am posting from my iPad I am unable to edit in photos.  There are a few at the end of this post & once I am home I will post an album.  This trip deserves an album**

Little did I know that this would be my last real view of the mountains until the morning when I woke early, suited up in the running clothing I laid out in my exhausted state the night before I walked the vaguely familiar path back to the lobby to find the friendly faces of fellow racers.  Less than 5 hours sleep after 29hours of travel my head was a bit foggy, but with a 40 mile run awaiting me in only one hour's time I had to quickly snap into this current, amazing reality.  The sun was starting to illuminate the Patagonian mountains and as the coffee worked its way into my blood stream I couldn't believe I was here.  Surrounded by Yassine, Billy and Drew the three I'd been emailing with for two weeks making these very plans.  The mountains I've only viewed in photos were waking up in the sunlight just beyond the large glass windows, the remaining snow fields of late spring catching and reflecting the first light and the grand silhouettes then making you tip your head back to take in their full shape.  It was a reality I was more than happy to wake up to.

Hungry from the long travel, but knowing that I had to race soon, I tried to make good decisions about how much breakfast to enjoy.  With many delicious options it was tough, but I managed.  The fancy lodge did well to accommodate so many foreign travelers with strong coffee (rare in Chile) fueling most.  

The 7:15am call for the bus prompted us to hoist our travelers backpacks onto our hips and make the short walk out to the parking lot to await the bus in the chilly morning breeze.  This would give us plenty of time to get to the start.  Without a bus in sight, I ran around to snap a few photos and take in the moment.  It escaped me that I would have many more beautiful photo ops in the coming days.  We waited and waited.  Yassine offered his houdini pants so that I wouldn't have to dig through my pack and the group of runners shivered and jumped around to keep warm.  A large 15 passenger bus arrived about 7:45am and with all of backpacks and goosebumpy legs we piled in for the short drive to the start.  From that parking lot we needed to cover the 20 minute walk to the start... instead this served as a good warm up run.  

We descended a marked walkway onto the rocky beach that opened up to the icy waters and mountain views.  Huge glacial chunks bopped along in the Lago Grey like ice cubes in a fancy blue cocktail and the morning breeze was chilled even more coming off the water.  Fortunately we did not have to wait long before running back across the beach, up the marked trail and through the parking lot we had left minutes ago.  We were running in Patagonia!

The lead men took off at what felt like a sprint, maybe to keep warm, maybe to compete.  I got a little caught up in both and moved along at a pace that allowed me to warm my icy legs and stop the unnecessary shivers.  I soon settled into a pace that felt more manageable for the miles ahead.  The dirt road laid out in front of me, and just beyond, the mountains that would inspire me for the duration.  I am not a fan of running on the roads, my body just doesn't manage the repetitive nature.  I prefer to bounce around, change direction, climb, descend, etc.  But if I am going to run on the roads, I decided I want to run on the roads in Patagonia.  Almost regretting the decision to leave my phone/camera behind I decided it was for the best as my race pace would have changed significantly.  There were so many opportunities to take photos, instead these images are burned into my mind.

Of the many highlights that filled the morning and early afternoon, the most magnificent happened in the first 5k.  Los cinco caballos blancos.  The five white horses. On the long road ahead, off to the right I saw five white horses burst into motion as one. The sun illuminated their manes like a silver lining and the force of their movement nearly stopped me in my tracks.  The surge joined the road and the runners ahead of me and continued up the track.  The road bent to the left and then climbed the hill in a switchback and I was able to watch their muscles flex and relax as they effortlessly climbed, reached the top and moved out of sight as the road turned back to the right.  A few minutes later when I finally topped out on the climb los cinco were off on my left in a golden field of dried grass and vegetation.  They stood looking on for a moment as I kept my head turned to watch them instead of the road ahead.  When the turn was too much for my neck and I had to look forward again I continued glancing back and soon saw them again surge into motion, this time through the field and further away.  Absolutely beautiful and magical... what a start to this race!

When the snow capped peaks rise up in front of you at every turn and the gravel road unfolds, twists and turns and rolls along as dictated by the terrain,  to say the course was much of the same does not mean it was boring.  In fact quite the opposite.  The beauty and rhythm of the repetitive turn over was meditative allowing thoughts to flow, come and go, process and be forgotten.  One of the many wonderful gifts of running.  I made it my goal to run every step knowing that the climbs were relatively gradual and running would mean covering the 40 miles a bit quicker and hopefully keep me in position.  With only water and fruit provided along the way I was thankful I stuffed a  few gels and Z-bars into the many pockets of a new tester pair of Patagonia shorts to fuel the day.  I carried a single UltrAspire Isomeric Pocket also filled with calories.  The combination was just enough for the hours spent traversing the 63 kilometers.  

In addition to the ultra there was also the 44km marathon, a 22km half and 10k.  Each race started at the appropriate points along our 63k course and in time so that we would all reach the meta/goal/finish around the same time.  I passed through the starts of the marathon and half marathon a few minutes before they began their own races.  Running through each starting area brought a surge of energy from the cheers offered by the runners as they jogged around and stripped down to their own racing attire.  Soon after I passed through, the lead men of each of those races closed the time gap and passed me in beautiful form.  The leader of the marathon slowed his pace to chat with me a bit and I soon realized thanks to his introduction that we know each other from a few email communications earlier this year.  Max went on the win the marathon.  The lead men of the half surged by me in a group of three, quiet as can be.

In the final miles I started weaving through a variety of runners, some that had passed me before, some that started the 10k before I had reached their start.  After the final rise the view of Hotel de los Torres was a welcome site likely to all of us.  The grand archway of the finish was apparent even with more than a mile to go.  I tried to quicken my pace in spite of my tight, limited hamstrings.  Covering these final strides the realization that this was my final race of this season brought a smile to my face.  Time for a bit of downtime, a few local adventures and exploring a few other passions.  But before letting my mind wander too much I snapped back to the hay bales that lined the finish shoot and hi-fived with those lining the shoot who realized by looking at my bib number that I was finishing the 63k.  La primera mujer!

Every race, every travel experience gives us the opportunity to learn something.  It might be a lesson that we needed to be reminded of, it might be a new one, but there always is at least one.  With many years of racing and traveling, one lesson I have had to learn is that that there is no perfect way to arrive and prepare for any event in life.  Planes might be delayed, people might change their minds, you might cook your favorite meal or you might scavenge a slice of pizza from the airport bar.  It is good to realize that we can not control and plan every aspect.  There is only approach, execution and attitude that we can influence and always hope for the best.

Photos by Francisco Ibarra  LINK 

GEAR LIST: to come :) 

photos from plane

photos from plane

race start

race start

race finish

race finish

Quick pace, quick thoughts... The GoldenLeaf Half Marathon

Hurry up. Wave number 1 is starting.  Smile.  Photo. Strip off the long sleeve and scurry under the rope to join the other 175 runners in the first group.  Uphill - go!  Adrenaline, surge. Gasp. Straight uphill.  Breathe deeper.  Okay, the hill wins, power hike.  This I can do.  2 miles up.  Altitude. Whoa.  Breathe.  Where are all the colors?  This is the Goldenleaf half marathon.  There! A shock of gold.  This is what I came for. Beautiful.  Switchbacks down. Flip the duckbill hat backwards.  Views of the valley.  Again, this is what I came for.  Keep breathing, we are high.  Push a bit to get past a few pony tails that scurried up the early 2 miles while I was walking.  Gasping.  This hurts.  Fill the chest cavity as full as possible. Recover.  Keep pace.  Dude keeps breathing down my neck.  Why won't he pass?  Fall into stride with the next colorful group of shirts.  Quick feet, keep them dry.  Passing on the right.  Quick steps.  "Good work!" Move ahead, open up the stride.  Okay maybe not that much, the hamstrings are still tight.  Goodness it takes a while for an ultrarunner to warm up.  Tricky footing, keep cadence.  Every step is a good step.  Focus.  Breathe.  Mile marker signs tacked to the aspens, good chance to check the pace.  Can I break two hours?  More downhill on the second half... it's possible.  Another hit of calories.  No water.  I forgot my cup, dang it.  I need to remember that cup like I remember my shoes.  Steep down.  Passing on the left.  Whoops, divot, cut right too soon.  "Sorry, sorry, sorry!"  Down, down, down. Make up time. Breathe.  Work on turnover.  Take in the meadows.  A little more gold.  I love this feeling!  Movement.  Running.  Music in my ears, dirt under my feet.  Love.  A few less shirts to chase.  Pavement.  Bridges.  Cheers.  Cowbells.  Getting closer.  Last meandering trail.  Gravel.  Louder cheers.  Colorful pop-up tents.  Mats across the trail.  Name announced.  Pronounced wrong, but I know that is me.  Glance at the clock.  Stop the watch.  Smile.  Breathe.

439 female finishers

318 male finishers

RESULTS

 

Boulder flooding, Patagonia running

It just hit me last night, and hit me hard.  With an alternate, very real reality surrounding me in my new Boulder community it has been far from my mind to think about traveling, leaving again to go explore another continent.  The recent floods in Boulder have raised many thoughts on life, priorities and focus.  It felt like an entire week went by and I hadn't really gotten "anything" done.  I was fresh off six wonderful weeks traveling in Simba all over the west and had plenty of "to-do's" to catch up on.  But when disaster strikes and there is so much uncertainty surrounding and filling the day, it is amazing how those "to-dos" seem to have less relevance and getting "anything" done just doesn't matter.  I had barely unpacked my car when the rain hit.  Feeling settled back into the house wasn't quite normal yet.  I was still asking my roommate where things were when the rains started pounding.  We woke up to our neighbors basements flooding and 5 inches of water in our storage shed.  Our minor damage was nothing, 3-7feet of water filled some peoples homes.  The entire town of Lyons had unreal destruction and scary needs for evacuation to save the lives of the people living there, never mind the sense of home was completely washed away.  I definitely feel lucky to still feel safe in my home, to have a place to be and reset and to be able to offer an able body to those in need.  The first week home went by and instead of paying bills, catching up on correspondence and planning for this next adventure, time was spent with the people that came through our home, taking to my own two feet with close friends to make our way around town and observe the massive changes to our community, and reading as much as I could to understand the surrounding situation.  It will be a while before Boulder is back to its normal bubble, but the town is filled with amazing resources and able people that I have no doubt huge steps towards that "normal" will happen daily.  Never-the-less the sound of rain coming down or the sight of dark clouds filling the sky sends a chill up my spine and sets a pit in my stomach.  We are fine, but there are so many that are not and I only hope the weather can give a break so that the recovery can happen.

The plane ticket is still there.  An incredible trip and opportunity await me.  The Chilean board of tourism graciously covered my long journey from Denver to Punta Arenas and I will board that flight on Wednesday to head south.  Punta Arenas is by far the furthest south I have ever been and the mystic of the mountains, the history of those that have traveled there before me for their own exploration and the culture that surrounds the area are all the wonders that hit me last night and woke me up to what I now need to prepare for in the next couple of days.  The basics are the 63km Patagonian International Ultramarathon race will take place on September 28.  The route looks to be a beautiful perspective of the Torres del Paine National Park.  The weather may be a beautiful, or it could be a bit chilly and windy... I just hope we get to see the views of those incredible mountains.  The event boasts several distances and is established to help raise awareness for conservation of the Chilean Patagonia.  To be honest, I need to spend a bit more time on the website and getting my head around this awesome trip and adventure.  I'm excited to be traveling with a few other athletes to the event and to enjoy a tour of the park the following week.

More to come... just felt the need to share some thoughts.

 

8000 meter Challenge

A different type of race field, a different gathering but similar enthusiasm for time on the trails and personal challenge exploring mountain peaks in southern California.  Through Patagonia I was invited to be the guest speaker at the pre-race event Wednesday evening.  After an exciting meeting at the Ventura office (more on that later) I jumped back in Simba and headed southeast to the Mt Baldy lodge where I met up with our Patagonia reps, the Pasadena Patagonia team as well as the busy race director John.

The 8000 meter Challenge includes the summits of Baldy, Gorgonio and San Jacinto.  The athletes that make up the field are specialty retailer staff from all over California and Nevada.  The race is 18 years old and has grown from 36 to over 150 participants.  Participants compete as teams to finish the distances and the teams include those that journey to the top of each summit and the supporting crew members that transport the runners/hikers from peak to peak.  Arguably the biggest challenge is getting in and out of the cars after summiting each of the peaks.  There is also a fundraising component that benefits the Big City Mountaineers.  All in all a great event on many different aspects. 

I sat in the back of the room during the prerace briefing feeling mellow and even a bit sleepy, likely from all the road time the last six weeks.  But as soon as the mic switched hands to Kris who would be making my introduction, without fail my heartbeat raised and was audible in my own ears, my senses heightened and body temperature rose.  All nerves firing and before I was handed the mic I forced myself to take a deep breathe in an attempt to calm the system.  Without fail I noticed myself speaking quickly and soon having to take another gasp... forcing me to truly calm down and settle in to the energy of the awesome people in front of me.  No need to be nervous.  

* I loved how many new participants were in the crowd.  There were some great resources, people that knew the routes and event and they would bring that support and information.  The newbies - their job was to keep the psyche.  To keep everyone pumped as if it were everyone's first time out there.  The sparkle of the unknown that is so fueling and inspiring. 

* FKT's.  With the recent Wonderland Trail run fresh in my mind I shared a bit about Fastest Known Times and my favorite bits of sharing trail time on a self picked adventure. 

* And then we opened it up to questions.  The next 50 minutes flew by as we shared information and got people excited for their upcoming event and hopefully future goals.  All awesome questions and incredible engagement.  Made my "job" fun.  

* My Sponsors came in big with swag for this crowd, so everyone that asked a question received something from one of the following... Patagonia, Pro-Tec, Ultraspire, First Endurance or Julbo.  Everyone went home with Flora's new Seven Sources samples and with extra Oil samples left over I encouraged the race volunteers to take them to the pancake breakfast on Friday morning - better than butter!

Fellow Patagonia Reno employee Sara and I camped at Manker Flats Wednesday night and made our way up Baldy behind the runners Thursday morning.  Their 5am start meant that by the time we were headed up around 7am we started seeing the teams making their way down - huge cheers for the Patagonia Pasadena team leading the charge.  Our run up the Ski Hut trail on Mt. Baldy was incredible.  We were a little pressed for time and wondered if we should go for the top, but convinced ourselves that the decent on Devils Backbone would be faster so pushed up through the altitude and were hugely rewarded with a calm, quiet summit, all to ourselves and views spreading as far as the LA haze would allow.  Our only regret was that both of our phones (cameras) were back in the car.  No photos... only shots with the mind. The run only improved from there with the amazing terrain that is aptly described by the trail's name.  The drastic rocky drops on both sides as we traversed off the summit kept interrupting our conversation as either one of us would point out the beauty surrounding us.  A wonderful breakfast and awesome shared.

A full day traveling back into LA, dropping Sara off with her family and making time to catch up on some work to-dos before making my way to the ocean to soak my feet and finish reading Kilian's new book Run or Die.  The summit of Baldy to the Pacific Ocean, California has many wonderful places to take in.

I wonder the stories found on the three summits of the 8000m challenge.  Were the newbies able to keep the spark for the teams?  What percentage summited all three peaks?  What team raised the most money?  No doubt there will be experiences talked about for years to come.