Humpty-Dumpty

When I was about 20, I shattered my right fibula and ripped all the ligaments and cartilage that held my ankle together. After surgery, with a cast up to my hip, I was pretty well bed-ridden.
I had never been a patient in a hospital before. No one bothered to inform me that I was expected to use a bedpan. Hell, I'd heard of bedpans but didn't know what they looked like!
A bit more than a day after surgery, I had to crap. Lying in bed gave me all the time in the world - too much time. I was used to expeditions in the Colorado mountains, so I looked at going to the bathroom as an expedition. There wasn't anything else to do, right?
Looking around the room, there was a chair next to the bed, and the usual nightstand next to the bed. I carefully, slowly inched my way out of bed, onto the chair, down onto the floor, using the chair to elevate my leg. I rested often. I inched my way across the room, chair in-tow, did my business, and returned to bed.

Over the next couple of days, I did this each day. Finally, a nurse came in and tried to give me some Milk-of-magnesia. I didn't know what that was. She said it was to "help me void".
"What?"
"You haven't voided."
"What?"
"You've been here three days and haven't voided. We can't release you until you void."
"I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you saying 'void'?"
"Yes."
"Well what does that mean? That doesn't make any sense to me. It's like you're speaking a different language."
"You're constipated. This will help move your bowels."
"Oh, you mean I haven't crapped! Why didn't you just say that? No one's going to know what you're talking about if you're afraid to say it!"

So I told her about my expeditions, and she told me how that was against the rules. Well no one had told me the "rules", or told me to use a bedpan, or showed me what a bedpan looked like, or what the word "void" was supposed to mean, and that I couldn't go home until I'd crapped. I swear, hospitals can be so retarded sometimes. They think we all graduated from Hospital Patient 101? Get real!

Looking back, I laugh at the experience. I also am real thankful for my mobility. At the time, I had readjusted my horizons so that a successful trip across the room was epic. I've since gone on many more adventures in the mountains, in winter storms, done tons of remote ultra-races, etc. I'm a lucky guy. Not sure how sick everyone is of hearing me say that. I've just been repeatedly reminded of it throughout my life. My luck keeps staring me in the face.

Trail Adventures Blog Move

I'm officially moving my outdoors adventures to my newer blog, Trail Bum.
My plantar faciitis has my ultra-running passion sidelined indefinitely, so it makes more sense for me to blog about my general outdoors adventures, than almost exclusively about training for the Leadville Trail 100.

This blog will switch to my more miscellaneous ramblings, but each blog may sometimes refer to the other. Who knows, maybe this one will become extinct?

Regina Kelly Story

Since I'm injured, and haven't raced or trained in two months, and this blog isn't named after trail running (like my new blog is), I feel compelled to mention this story...

I saw the movie, American Violet. They had this GORGEOUS woman playing the leading role. You know how Hollywood does things. You see the real-life person and it just isn't the same.
So I Googled. In the movie, it's Dee Roberts (played by Nicole Beharie, who is only slightly totally freakin' HOT) is the woman in the Hollywood version. In real life, the woman's name is Regina Kelly.
So I Googled Regina Kelly. Wow, the real-life woman is also totally hot.
Also, I've seen druggies. I've seen a lot of druggies. In high school, most of my friends were druggies. In later years, riding with my friend who was a cop, I got to see worse druggies. And here in Denver, I got to see more. How anyone could think for one minute that this civilized, articulate woman could be involved in drugs is beyond me. I've seen beautiful people who sell drugs, and they lose their beauty and they don't act civilized. I've even known rich druggies in so-called hi-society. They also act like druggies. You can doll it up but it still smells and looks the same.
Watch this and tell me if you could suspect this woman for very long of hanging with the wrong crowd doing the wrong things.

One reason I "fled" the Mid-west is that racism is rampant. Seriously, not to blow things out of proportion, most people don't hate. So I'm talking about a large enough percentage of the population to poison the pond. The Midwest sucks when it comes to racial harmony. In fact, it's not just race. There was a narrowness of mind/attitude that appalled me my whole life... from all races - not just whites.

I have lots of stories of racism, mostly white-on-Hispanic, in Texas, but also blacks against whites, blacks against blacks, and every race against every other race.
Aren't humans a swell bunch of folks, Wally?
I love Denver. It isn't the best melting pot, but there isn't one narrow-minded mainstream that overrides all the others. Like it or not, Denver is diverse. And I take refuge in it.

Nocturnal Running

This article about lighting for trail-runners has been worked on for years, and distributed to the Denver Trail Runners for several years, edited each year. The first copy was a 50/50 effort between Adam Feerst and myself.

Whether you’re running an ultra-event that goes through the night, or you just want to keep running through the short days of winter, you may be shopping for good lighting. Maybe you’re a gear-hog that already has plenty of different lights, but you may not be utilizing your gear optimally. During a race, there is no substitute for good lighting. If you’re running with insufficient light, you’ll probably either slow down for safety, or you’ll risk injury. If worried about weight, err on the side of too much weight/light than not enough. I've overheard too many elite runners complain that they had to slow down because they couldn't see. For these, a few more ounces of lighting would have more than paid for itself.

Some things to consider:
- Contrast gives you depth-perception
- Peripheral vision avoids vertigo and tunnel-vision
- Brightness gives you speed and confidence.
- Colored lenses
- Weight/bulk
- Battery life
- Cost

Contrast is created by having light away from your eyes where you can see some shadow to create depth perception. The more sources of light you have, from different angles, the better the contrasts will stand out. This is basic knowledge to any photographer wanting to make the subject stand-out.

Peripheral vision is aided by stray light. Reflectors try to block stray light and direct it forward for greater range. Since runners need the most effective light about 6 feet in front of them, reflectors are usually counter-productive. What's good for a camp light is not good for running a trail.
That is, unless you’re trying to follow reflective trail markers. In those cases, you’re not just trying to see for foot-placement, but also route-finding. Some headlamps have selective beams from long-range reflective to short-range dispersed.
Head lights leave your hands free and shine where you are looking. However, the light directly over your eyes can create glare, reducing contrast.
Hand lights can be easily directed and reduce glare. However, it takes practice to keep the light's direction from swinging while still using your arms.
Multiple lights can add depth-perception by countering shadows caused by a single light.

Brightness is determined by a combination of wattage, reflector, and the type of bulb you’re using. Incandescent bulbs are last century’s technology. They eat batteries and burn out, especially when dropped.
LEDs usually last forever. There are regular LEDs (less than 1 watt) and “super-bright” LEDs (more than 1 watt). The brighter LEDs are much better but use batteries faster.
There are, however, lights that utilize both LEDs and xenon or halogen. The battery-eating xenon/halogen is usually surrounded by a reflector that gives you a very bright projecting light. This gives you the best of both worlds. Depending on the unit model, you may have several switch settings that allow you to choose the brightness of light and longevity of your batteries. These hybrid gas/incandescent bulbs, used sparingly, are a luxury during moonless ultra-races through the night, especially races like the Hard Rock 100 where you’re above treeline looking for reflective markers a mile away.
Another option is to bring one Xenon or halogen flashlight with a button that can be depressed half-way for several seconds of reflector-controlled beam. This saves batteries and still allows superb long-distance lighting to pick out reflectors far away.

It’s better to have too much light than to have too little. Find the right level of brightness and weight, for the speeds and trails you want to run, and your own relative vision at night. Smooth paths may require no lights, while jagged, rocky trails with jutting tree roots require the max.
The closer your lighting is to your eyes – like a headlamp – the less the contrasts. This is because of the dancing shadows that give you a clue about how deep a hole is or how big a rock is. If the light is right next to your eyes, you’ll see no shadow. If the shadows are too dark, this may erode your confidence, making you slow down. Crisscrossing shadows give your eyes better perspectives.
Most headlamps can be converted to a waist or chest light.
If you’re only going to have one light, use it lower down for depth-perception. If you have a headlamp and a lower light, your headlamp should be the dimmer one to fill – but not obliterate – shadows created from your lower light(s).

Colored lenses severely diminish a bulb’s efficiency, but very bright-white light reduces the light-efficiency of your eyes (what’s called “night-vision”). Yellow, brown, and amber block blue light, which reduce haze and glare, and increase contrast making things clearer during speed sports. Red light is well-known for retaining night-vision.
Also consider weight and bulk. Some headlamps have the batteries integrated into the light, which is smaller and lighter with no wires, but tend to be front-heavy. Headlamps with separate battery packs are balanced, but are heavier overall and have wires which may end up getting mangled or worn-out.

Safety is another factor, mostly during training. Unfortunately many trail-runners do much of their training on roads. There are times you may not think you need any lighting, but consider there are times you want to be more visible to bikers and cars. Reflective clothing and a flashing tail-light can also be helpful. There's also the chance of meeting lions or bears on the trail. A flash of light in their eyes can blind them long enough to avoid an attack.

For short runs, rechargeable NiMH is great and saves plenty of money over the years.
Lithium is the other extreme, and is not rechargeable. It costs far more than any other battery but it runs longer too, and it’s immune to cold or going bad from sitting on the shelf. This may be a better choice for frigid winter runs. Lithium batteries have recently been found to damage LEDs from overheating. They are not recommended in moderate-to-hot weather. If you only have one LED bulb, only use them in the coldest environments where LEDs can’t reach critical temperatures, and you need the resilience of lithium. Overheated LEDs will become dimmer over time and will have to be replaced in order to return a flashlight to original brightness. However, if your light has multiple LEDs, then adding a little extra wattage won’t be able to damage them, even on warm nights. The more LEDs, the safer lithiums become.

Many lights are made from “aircraft-grade aluminum”, but this isn’t a good thing for runners. It’s heavier than plastic and far more durable than runners need. Some ads brag that you can drive over them with a tank or Humvee and they still work. I don’t anticipate any of my flashlights getting run over by anything, much less a military vehicle. Especially with regards ultra-running, every ounce counts.

Costs range from about $15 - $60. Headlamps tend to cost more than generic flashlights. The fancier features (LEDs+halogen reflector+4 switch settings) can send the price over $50.

When shopping, you’ll see ratings for candlepower and/or lumens. The term “watts” refers to power usage and doesn’t translate directly into brightness. Candlepower is a linear measurement equal to a birthday candle one foot away. A lumen is a square foot of light one foot away from the same candle.

Some packaging shows a silhouette of the beam. This can help you decide. Is the design for long range (better for hiking/camping) or for shorter range (better for runners)?

The most popular brands are Petzl, Black Diamond, Princeton Tec, Gerber, and Brinkman, but you may find others that are also very good.
One of my favorite flashlights is a 9-bulb Garrity that fits in the palm of my hand and runs lithium batteries without fear of degrading the bulbs. A lanyard is also a great feature on a hand-held light. The price is low enough to buy a couple for different drop-bags, while having an ideal weight/brightness ratio.
If I have to go with just one light, though, I'd choose a Tikka Plus. It probably has the best weight/brightness ratio available. I can wear it around my waist, or my head, or I can wrap the headband around my wrist and use it like a hand-held.

A partial list of stores and online dealers...
REI.com
REI Outlet
Sierra Trading Post
Campmor
Wilderness Exchange
Back Country
Adventure Racing Gear
Gear Zone
EMS
EMS Outlet
Bent Gate
Army/Navy Surplus, Kmart, Wal-Mart, Target, and at garage sales or Goodwill, ebay, amazon.

If you have any favorite places to shop, add a comment.

Lighting technology is taking leaps and bounds. Don't fixate on any specific model of light mentioned in this post. New models are coming out all the time, and new manufacturers, and old makes get new management (which overhaul the company). I think Petzl is clearly the best right now, but I reserve my loyalties because things are always changing.

Denver Magazine Article

This is woefully late, because I have a habit of not reading about running, or biking, or climbing, etc. Previously, I went to the Denver Magazine website and didn't see this article. Not knowing where to get a hard-copy, I never read it.
Until today. I plugged in "Denver Magazine", and my name, and voila!
I get all of one paragraph because the article was more about John Marini, and about ultra-running in general.
John Marini died during the Collegiate Peaks 50 in 2008.
Christian Toto wrote the piece. He has quite a few years at various newspapers and magazines across the country.
It's nice how it highlights our camaraderie and cooperation. One day I was at a bar watching Cyclo-cross racers, and they were talking about all the visceral hatred they have for each other. I couldn't help but think, "Those guys just don't get it."

Anyways, here it is.

SR71 Jocks

I was cleaning out old files on my computer when I found this awesome old story about two guys in an SR71 Blackbird hypersonic recon jet...

There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe
flying this plane. Intense, maybe even cerebral.
But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.

It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie.
We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status.
Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plan in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.

I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.

We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground."

Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the "Houston Center Voice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston Center Controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that... and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.
Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed.

"Ah, Twin Beach: I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed."
Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren.
Then out of the blue, a Navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios.
"Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check."

Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it -- ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion:
"Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground."

And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done -- in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now.

I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn. Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet.

Then, I heard it: the click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?"

There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request:
"Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground."

I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling.. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks. We're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money."

For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center Voice, when L.A. came back with, "Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one."

It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work.

We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast. For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.

State of the Runner Address - again

I've been running about seven times since May. Yeah, I know, some of those runs were 50 miles or more, but still... Seven times in four months.

My plantar doesn't hurt as much as it used to. As far as I can tell, that's only because I haven't aggravated it much. It still hasn't healed at all.

The good news is I don't need ibuprofen to keep the swelling down, generally.

My CR-V is really decrepit. It has over 209,000 miles on it. The keyless locks don't work, the radiator leaks, there's a huge ding in the windshield from the Bandera drive, and other minor problems. After this last trip, the 4th cylinder stopped working. It sounded like an old Volkswagen Beetle. I started trying to find a shop to work on it late Friday, but apparently service centers stopped working on weekends because of the bad economy. (Seems odd to me because wouldn't more people want to repair old cars rather than buy new ones?) So I worked on my CR-V all weekend long and it is now fixed. It runs extremely well, but some time in the next year, I should replace it.

I have the money saved to plop down cash on another, but I also want lasik surgery. My astigmatism is so bad that I will probably still have to wear glasses, but it will be optional. I am SOOOO sick of bifocal glasses!! Not sure I can afford a car and lasik.
And I still have to save for my son's college. I need a money tree. I'm just glad I still have a job. Real glad.

Aspen and Capitol Peak

Since I'm injured, I obviously couldn't run the Vasque Golden Leaf Half Marathon. What an awesome race! I did get to party with friends, lounge in the hot tub and pool, and generally chill-out.

We met at Bentley's for beer and burgers. The poor waiter - we just kept coming! A dozen, 18, 22, 26! Yikes! He said we were like a virus! But he got 20-21% tip, so he was fine with that.

We totally took over the hotel! There was, like, 29 of us, all together.


Race day was gloriously fine. No wind and much warmer than the forecast. In fact, if anything was wrong, some people may have over-dressed a tad and cooked during the race.
I played taxi driver and gear-hauler. Since it's a point-to-point, taking the shuttle would be a hassle.

Lance kicked butt. Many years ago, he was FAT!!! He was the fastest one in the group on raceday. What a stud!

We ate dinner at an Italian place, and then the livelier ones went dancing afterward. I put this tired old man to bed. How pathetic, huh?


The next day, I had coffee with Kelly and Leah, then left town for Capitol Peak.

Again, the weather was awesome. I loaded up with full gear for the first time since I took my son backpacking below Holy Cross Peak last year. This time I wore my Montrail trail running shoes. I don't see how anyone can make a habit our of running in these - they really are boots. Several times, i stepped right on the point of some sharp rocks and nothing poked through. Protection is one thing, but with 50lbs or so of gear, and still can't tell I'm stepping on a rock, that's a bit excessive. But perfect for backpacking!! I will certainly be able to wear these shoes out.

I met six people on the trail, always in pairs. Two of them, in separate groups, proclaimed the peak "unclimbable".

I got up to the upper camp sites just before the sun dipped below the ridges. Being a Sunday night, there were only two other people in the valley, and they were out of sight and sound.

With such dismal reviews from the other climbers, I didn't take the next day's climb that seriously. I got out of bed late, had a luxurious breakfast, and finally left camp at 9:10am.

I wasn't sure what the route was, except that I was supposed to climb up Daly Pass. So I did. Then I was surprised to see that I had to climb down a very steep gully into a serious rock-pile. The snow made figuring out safe places to step really hard. Add to that, I had to figure out what the proper route was. It was slow.


It was okay - it's what I came for, I guess. Beautiful scenery above treeline. I just took it easy - no rush - be careful.

The weather was just unreal, how comfortable it was. The only concern was the scalding high-altitude sun.



When I got to K2, I saw there was snow, and I wasn't certain ab out which way to continue, but it looked completely climbable to me. Except for two important things... I'm chicken, and I left way too late. It was 12:30pm and still hours worth of Knife Edge ridge between me and the summit.

Every time I looked at Capitol from a near distance, I kept thinking, what a chunk of ROCK! It is such a huge, jutting ridge of almost solid rock.

I got out in the nick of time. The wind began to blow before I got over Daly Pass coming back. It never let up, either. It just got worse over night. I had half considered climbing the next day, but there was NO WAY I was going to go over the Knife Edge in gusting winds, rain, and snow.

I drove over Independence Pass to eat dinner in Leadville, slept east of town in my CR-V, then drove in the rain to do breakfast at the Provin' Grounds.
It was wind and rain most of the way home. Glad I was a day ahead of schedule, because I wouldn't have gotten as far on Capitol otherwise.

This is the first real vacation I've had in a couple of years. It was nice.

Steamboat Springs 50 - aid station

I volunteered at the Steamboat 50 instead of running it. It was lots of fun and i have a few new friends in Steamboat, now.

I got to see Tim Hoppin and Meghan Burch finish their first 50M race! Tim totally killed it too. Can you believe this? He kills his first 50M? Someone forgot to give him the memo that says you have to build up to elite status.



Oh yea! I almost forgot! That curly-haired guy next to Mrs. Burch trashed the old course record. This years course is harder and slower, so the new record certainly overshadows any older record. Great job, Ryan!
7hr, 26min
That's crazy, I'm tellin' ya!

I still got to eat all the pizza and drink all the beer I wanted. I had four pieces and two beers. Great pizza!!!

I got some good mountain biking in too.

My plantar isn't hurting as bad. Too early to tell if it's starting to heal, or more probably simply been a long time since I've aggravated it. Whatever, I walked two miles on Tuesday, and again on Thursday.

Now I'm off to Aspen with friends, followed by some solo climbing in the area.

Obesity Studies

Check out these Obesity studies...
Low self-esteem leads to obesity

The "OB" or "FTO" fat genes lead to obesity

Over-eating leads to obesity

Obesity raises fertility!!!! (Reason #9)

Obesity can damage fertility!!!

What a circus! Can you understand my cynicism?

On the first topic, "low self-esteem causes obesity" - get real! Your typical type-A personality is said to be driven by an insatiable low self-esteem. No matter how great their accomplishments, there's always something wrong with what they've done, and it's never enough. When's the last time you ever saw an obese type-A? They're always either built like a tank, or skinny. Often a triathlete, but usually an elite athlete of some sort.

Genes. I just don't believe genes have much affect. They certainly could have some small affect on where on your body fat tends to get stored, and some slight affect on appetite, but no one ever got fat from being hungry.

Over-eating leads to obesity. Since food doesn't leap into your mouth and gag its way down your throat, people must be shoving too much down, and burning too little off. I admit it - I eat too much. Anyone who eats too much needs to admit it or they'll NEVER get a handle on the problem!

Fertility - I'm flabbergasted. How do obese people find their organs? I think some of them haven't seen their own knees in years, much less their organs. How can obese people manage to get, er-hum, "attached" down there? Sorry for the visuals.

Well, the "studies" aren't helping out.

Ultra-shorts

I ran all of my races longer than marathon, and some of the tougher mountain marathons in my beloved EMS shorts. I've owned these shorts for about a decade. Right after crossing the river at Leadville, I squatted down to wet my bandanna and suffered a catastrophic crotch failure. I was "free and lovin' it", but almost running in a running-skirt.
These shorts were showing signs of wear, and maybe I should have put them out of their misery a year ago, but this time there was no choice left.



Here's what I love about these shorts...
1 - Cargo pockets on the front of the thighs. If they're on the sides, filled cargo pockets flop and sway and impede running.

2 - A nylon belt. If you put anything into cargo pockets, they're going to pull your shorts down. A cord cuts in, but a 3/4" nylon web belt doesn't.
Besides, when I wear my hydration pack, I clicp the pack belt through my pants belt and nothing flops anywhere! Can't do that with a cord.
Hydration packs tend to cause plain elastic shorts to fall down, even with empty pockets. That's me - the buttless-wonder. Narrow hips and no ass. All it takes is a hint, and elastic shorts have to be pulled back up constantly. Not fun in long races.

3 - Six inch inseam. Nearly all shorts these days have an 8"-12" inseam. Again, this leads to flopping shorts when cargo pockets are used. If I wanted long pants, I wouldn't be wearing shorts, so why do today's shorts come down to the knees? (Eoow - that sounded like an old grumpy guy.)

4 - 100% nylon. Obviously, cotton is not allowed, but there are other synthetic materials. My shorts weren't at all elastic. I don't mind some elastic (to avoid binding and chaffing), but as I've said twice already, flopping cargo is bad, and elastic allows flopping.

My old EMS shorts were just the right amount of slack, and just the right amount of looseness. This is kind of critical, over 100 miles.
EMS doesn't sell shorts like these anymore. Close, but no cigar.
Luckily, I bought two other pairs at the same time! Unfortunately, the thread on these others are falling apart. The pockets all need mending.

The most critical thing, though, is the colors of these other shorts don't match my other stuff!!!! Light gray and light olive don't color-coordinate with my gear. When you suck on the trail as bad as me, you have to have at least some semblance of fashion, right?

Phases

My life has been a series of phases. This might be the end of my ultra-runner phase - or maybe not.

Phases I've had...
1) Writing. I always got A's in my English classes in school. I wrote poetry (twisted stuff), short stories, and longer, but never a novel. I pretty much don't write anymore.

2) Rocketry. I bought the rocket motors, but I made everything else from scratch. My rocket tubes were made from old-fashioned packing tape - the kind you had to use a sponge on the adhesive. I would wrap the tape around a dowel rod as a form. Nose cones and fins were made from balsa wood. parachutes were Saran Wrap and thread. I made some very fancy rockets.

3) Guns. I do my own reloading. I have more guns than I need. Come to think of it, I don't need one gun. I also don't need an iPod, but I own four.

4) Mountain climbing. I loved standing on summits and seeing a long ways. You can see farther on the higher peaks, so I began climbing 14ers.

5) Winter mountaineering. The previous phase obviously led into winter trekking and camping. I actually would target the most severe storms. Quite a few times I would meet people leaving as I was heading out and their attitudes were that I was a dead man - no way you're heading out into that and surviving.

6) Speed climbing. Running short on time, I began doing more in less time. On 2nd shift, I'd have to drive to a trailhead in the morning, and see how far up I could get before hitting my turn-around time and have to go to work. I usually never reached a summit.

7) Career change. This brought all physical recreation to a sudden halt. I met a Kenyan who was making over $100,000/yr as a database administrator. He grew up in a grass and mud hut in a huge family. They pooled all their wealth and sent the brightest to America to go to college.
As a machinist, all we did was stand around complaining about work conditions, wages, and some would claim that Mexicans were stealing our jobs, etc. It was quite a daily pity-party.
After meeting Kimayo, though, I couldn't help but get really mad - at myself and anyone who wastes energy in negative ways. I was born in this country, grew up with both the language and knowing the culture, and had only made myself a lowly blue-collar worker.
No offense, if you like being a blue-collar, power to you! The point is, whatever you are, if you're complaining about it, it's up to you to change it.
Some say never complain. I say that complaining is valid - only if it's thinking out-loud and precursor to action. What don't I like? What would I like? How do I get from here to there?
If Kimayo can do it, I can do it. I had no money and no time. No excuses!

I used every spare second of my life for a couple of years dumpster-diving for computers and software, built a lab in my basement, taught myself computers and networking, quizzed-out on my certification exams, and changed careers.

8) Ultra running. The previous phase, and then becoming a work-aholic because I felt insecure not having a formal education (ha! my self-teaching was BETTER!), I had no social life and no exercise. I couldn't even participate in a normal conversation. I had no connection with normal people. So I figured I needed to join some groups. Not just any group, but people like myself. What do I like? Running. Mountains. Trails. So I joined the Denver Trail Runners.

So what's my next phase? I'm working on it. It should involve my son. He loves camping and hiking in the Rockies, cars, and music. Since I don't have a garage, it would have to involve mountains or music.

This blog is out-living its usefulness. I created a newer blog, which is more appropriately named. In spite of my city life, and white-collar technology job, I live like a bum. I'm at home outside and moving at high altitude. For the past several years, I've been averaging about 1 out of every 10 nights spent either in the back of my CR-V, or on the bare ground, or in a snow-cave, or in my tent. I'm hardly ever home. I'm a trail-bum. My city life and job are currently necessities, but some day that might change. In spite of my more organic inclinations (my yin), I am quite a geek, so I love my job (my yang). So my new blog will be Trail Bum, but it'll be awhile before it goes live.
I love running, but I love other things too. I won't restrict myslef to just running the rest of my life. When I'm healed-up, I'll just drift into the next thing.

Leadville 100 2009

Results were predictable. I had hoped, and there are people who have finished in similar situations, so I totally went-for-it.
For naught.
Twin Lakes return, cutoff, 60.5 miles.

The plan: 29hr pace. If you shoot for a 30hr pace, you'll miss some of the cutoffs, so you don't dare aim for 30.

What went right...
1) Hydration. I didn't overhydrate at any point. It was a clear sky which led to a scalding day. New studies have come out telling us not to drink unless we feel thirsty. That is stupid advice. They extolled that study during the pre-race meeting. I ignored it. Experience has taught me the hard way that on days like we had, there is no way to keep up with the rate of dehydration. Your best bet is to drink as much as you can. My dehydration was slight.

2) Pace. I was nailing my slow pace. Never did I try particularly hard.

3) Gear & drops. I nailed the logistics. I hadn't brought enough e-caps in my pockets, but then I packed extras in my dropbags.

4) Eating. I ate less. The theory was I have previously been eating too much. Evidence was (sorry for the graphics) farting a lot. Eating too much causes undigested carbs to reach the lower intestine. That leads to fermentation and the unavoidable gases. I didn't bonk, so I obviously got this right, but what a narrow balance!

5) Ibuterol. I sucked it down - maybe more than the advisable medical limits. It didn't keep my lungs from filling, but it still helped. It stopped the gu in my lungs from turning into a frothing foam. That is very significant, really, because foam reaches higher, faster, and blocks my alveoli easier. I still suffered some suffocation, but ibuterol now has concrete, classified benefits.

6) I ended up needing the bottles of Gatorade I packed in my dropbags because...

What went wrong...
1) My collection of hydration bladders was well-used. Some had slight leaks. I bought a brand-new MSR hydration bladder a few days before to guarantee no leaks. Race morning, I'm soaked at the start-line. My bladder came new with a sizable leak. And that was my only hydration container.
I tried duct tape, but that didn't work.
Finally, around 50k, I figured out that I could hang the little filler-cap flange on the side of the hydration bladder pocket to keep the top from sagging down. Since the leak was 2/3 of the way up, leaking became minimal. Improvise.

2) In order to keep from hammering my plantar, I had to put on the brakes. This trashed my quads. Not a little. My quads eventually became useless meat.

3) My plantar got hammered anyway.

4) Sharp pains proliferated. Limping on my right foot put more stress there, and so the right side started to disintegrate.

I sucked! I'm so out of shape.
As of now, I have logged 1150 miles this year, and nearly all of that was before three months ago. The past three months have been not-quite-sedentary. I hear so much bullshit about running hundreds. "It's all mental." If that were true, then a 300lbs slob could get off the couch and mentally force themselves through 100 miles of climbing and descents to cross the finish under 30 hours. We all know that can't happen. So several things have to happen, and you can't cheat on any of them. You have to get your body weight down, you have to get your VO2Max up, you have to get your logistics right, and you have to learn your body's needs and signals so you know what to give it under a variety of circumstances. I've got most of that, but my conditioning sucks.

I've been spending more time with my son, which is a good thing.

Lance Armstrong at the LT100 Mtn Bike Race

I was just trying to grab some more altitude a week before the LT100 Run and spend some time with friends. I took my son and we went camping with a handful of Denver Trail Runners.
They were way more into seeing Lance and other famous bikers than I. Not my thing, but my son really thought it was uber-kool to see him.



My lense decided to fog up just in time for him to ride by. I had the camera mounted on a very steady log, so there was no shaking and it should have been crystal-clear. But it wasn't, so there.
At the finishline, I totally forgot my camera in the car a half mile away. A friend gave me his 7 megapixel camera while he used his 3 megapixel camera. The leader trucks were blocking our view completely. We didn't even know Lance was hidden beyond the far corner of the trailing truck. Neither of us saw him until he was almost past. Both of us shot while looking over the top of the cameras and moving them like a machinegun. Somehow, we both managed to get him perfectly centered and no shaking.
Now if only he would email the photos to me, I could share them.
It was fun doing photography, for a change. I won't quit my day-job, even if I get a good camera.

A few more days until the LT100 Run. I'm obviously not "ready", when you consider I haven't trained in months. Last year, I didn't even try at the 50-miler, and did it under 10 hours. This year I actually tried the whole way, and it still took me 48 minutes longer! So that doesn't bode well.
It's convenient having tons of notes. I've been packing since Sunday night, and I think my dropbags are ready. My pace charts have been modified from last year to allow me to have a smoother (for my legs) pace.
So I'm in lousy condition. I'm getting really fat. Anything could happen, though. I could break a foot before I reach the first aid station. Or I might finish in 28 hours. I'm just going to enjoy the running. I'm so tired of not running.

Last year, the weather was rainy and snowy. This year's forecast is for clear weather and heat. I'm not sure which is harder.

My Son's First 14er!

My son climbed his first 14er Saturday!



And I got some altitude.
I ran into Luke T. as he was coming down. We met at the Leadville 50 a week ago.
There was light snow on the upper thousand feet of the mountain, but otherwise the weather was fantastic.

Still not running. I guess my one-day stint in the Leadville 50 started a rumor that I was healed. No such luck.
But still looking forward to the LT100.
Getting some VO2Max workouts on my rowing machine and riding my bike at least once a week.

Roman City Altinum on Google Earth

This is cool! I read that Altinum had been found under fields. There was even a comment that, being near the Venice airport, it's wonder it wasn't found sooner.
So I opened GE and looked for a match to the trees and roads. It didn't take long.
Try it! There are even the faint ghosts of a couple of ancient highways, straight as an arrow, leading right to Antinum - but you have to zoom way out from the area they have in all the news stories.
45deg 33' N, 12deg 23.5' E
The other odd thing why it took them so long is, duh, modern Altino is next to it. Altino is like a 2-farm town sorrounded by fields.
One of the ancient highways can be seen leading right towards the main terminal of Marco Polo airport. The other road heads straight from the northern Altinum city gate (reference the archeological map) and heads northeast.
There is quite a lot of ghostly stuff you can see through the fields that aren't mentioned in the news articles but are pretty obvious.
Heck, you might even find Jimmy Hoffa's body!