Quandary Peak

Quandary Peak (14,271 feet) from close to the trailhead

A day well spent today and full of reminders about Colorado. My father, brother and I headed to the mountains to go climb Quandary Peak which lies a short distance out of Breckenridge. It is not that tough a climb, about 3,300 vertical feet over three miles, but tough enough to feel that I did something. We left Denver about 6am and were walking by 815. We climbed up and out of the trees, into tundra and finally across talus slopes to the top of the mountain. We arrived on top shortly after 11:00, averaging about 1100 feet per hour. We weren't racing and my 66 year old father set the pace which was slow and steady, just the right pace for enjoying the climb. I was reminded along the way of many of the things I love and miss about Colorado:

The views of the Rockies from the top of a 14teener,

and bright Red Indian Paintbrush (still my favorite flower).

And of course I was reminded of some of the things I really don't like about Colorado. Namely the crowds:

(Fifty some people in this photo)
and this was the zoo on the summit.

A wilderness experience this was not. There were about sixty cars parked at the trailhead and more arriving when we took off. Frankly, I can't deal with this, not in any long-term sense anyway. In Alaska we feel crowded out if we even see another person during our hikes, in CO, NOT seeing people would be shocking. Still, somehow I (like most of the folks we saw today) love those mountains, I just hope that they don't get loved to death.

And there was one further refreshing encounter along the trail:

A nice set of fresh Black Bear tracks. Alaska it ain't, but Colorado has at least held onto some aspects of wilderness. It made me happy to see these, perhaps there is hope after all.

Mileage:
Hiking: 7 miles
Vertical gained: 3,500 feet.
High point: 14,271 feet.

In Colorado...thus the hiatus

My poor, old, trust-worthy Barracuda peering down some Fairbanks single-track

So that was my first hiatus for this blog. Sorry about that, but I’m now about 3,000 miles away at my parent’s home in Colorado. It was 97 degrees yesterday, 94 today. Combine that with the sprawl and you have the makings of hell.

So falling back to Saturday... Despite packing for this trip and running god knows how many pre-trip errands, I did manage to get out for a good ride. I did most of the Equinox Marathon trail. Not quite as much of it as I'd planned because time was short, but ended up doing about 17 miles. Some good single track along the Skarland Ski Trail and the University of Alaska trail systems which was refreshing, but I also beat the hell out of my hands on many root-filled stretches. I really, really, really, need to upgrade my 14 year old Barracuda mountain bike. I'll miss it, it has served me well in the tens of thousands of miles I've put on it, but...sorry Barracuda, you've just gotten to old for me. (Plus I'm dying for some, any suspension).
I’m spending the rest of my time here in Colorado, or at least a good portion of it, searching for a new mountain bike. I’ll let you all know what I find.

The nice part about CO is that many people here like to play outdoors and there are gobs of bike shops, outdoor stores and of course places to go play. I spent a good portion of this afternoon paddling around in the Golden White Water Park in my Alpacka Raft, learning how it holds up in short Class III drops. One of the key lessons, learned in the second drop of the day, is that despite the stability of Alpackas, they are quite flippable. The second lesson of the day took place two seconds later: Learn how to get out of your Alpacka Raft BEFORE you flip over in white water. I was under for about 10 seconds, maybe fifteen. But it felt like much longer as I helplessly struggled for the pull tab to detach the Velcro spray skirt. After about ten seconds of fighting and trying not to panic, I just forced myself out, came up sputtering and swam over to the shore side rocks, to drain the boat and catch my breath. So if you are an Alpackaphile, a word of advice: When you hit standing waves, lean forward, NOT back.

Me dropping into a wave in the Golden White Water Park

Past day’s totals:
Saturday 26 July:
Running: 1.5 miles
Mountain Biking: 17 miles

Sunday 27 July (travel day to Colorado)
Running: 1.5 miles

Monday 28 July:
Running: Didn’t manage to get out and run today….dammit.
Paddling: (whitewater) 40 minutes, plus bonus points for underwater adrenaline rush.

Thoughts from a Day Off

I know its good for me. I know I need to let my muscles recover. I KNOW I'm supposed to not exercise every so often. But dammit, I feel like such a slacker. When I've fallen out of my exercise habit, I find it really, really hard to get back into it and now trying to work my way back into a regime taking a day off feels...well, lazy.

Days like this make me fear that I'll slip back into bad old habits of just not doing anything, of not feeling energetic, of not having the gumption to get up and go for a run. I've run more than 20 miles this week, biked another 30, lifted weights, gone paddling. In short done everything I've supposed to. Everything that is, but allow for some time for recovery. So that is what I'm doing, and its harder than going running.

Tomorrow I'm back on the bike. I've got a 20 mile loop planned following most of the marathon trail. I'll try to consider this day as building up for that... Yep, that's the ticket, I'm in training.

Totals 24 July

The bright and sunny skies that came pouring in my office window this afternoon distracted me to the point where I could no longer think about work. That combined with the fact that between bursts of productivity I was browsing blogs full of wilderness adventures, I found I could no longer stand to be indoors. I work on the edge of a small wildlife refuge (by Alaska standards anyway) that lies in the middle of Fairbanks, it makes a convenient place to escape on days like this. I pulled on my running shoes and clothes that I keep under my desk and slipped out the door before any of my co-workers were the wiser. Behind the building I joined a trail and from there headed out into the woods. I loped along at a pleasant pace enjoying the sunlight on the field of blooming canola. A mile later I joined a boardwalk trail that loops for a mile through the forest. The boreal forest in July is a place of green. Green leaves above, a carpet of herbs, flowers and horse-tails on the ground. Two feet above it all on the board walk I felt like I was flying. Around the trail I went, picking up speed involuntarily. Soon I was back in the fields letting my legs carry me back where I had come. All too soon, I was back at my work, feeling the sweat run down my back and a pleasant soreness in my calves. A much more productive half-hour that I would have had at my desk.

This evening, instead of pulling out the bike, I put my Alpacka raft in a backpack and walked down to a pond about 1/2 mile from the house. There I inflated and launched the boat, paddling at a workout pace in laps around the lake. It was an altogether pleasant way to get the heart rate up. I'll have to remind myself to do that again.

So today's totals:
Running: 4.5 miles. No substantial elevation.
Paddling: 1/2 hour. No idea how far.

Morning Trot

I've nicknamed my first run of the day, my morning trot. And that is exactly what it is. I don't go fast or far. I just plod happily along at an easy 10 or 11-minute mile pace. I run for fifteen minutes, however far that carries me. I've been doing this each morning for only about a week, but it is starting to feel like routine. Routine, I've learned, is the real trick for me. When an activity, say running a mile each morning, becomes habit, it becomes easy.

Though my morning trot isn't long, it gets my blood flowing and if I do it every day, that is another hour and 45 minutes of exercise every week, or seven and half hours a month. 35-40 miles extra. That adds up. Plus it just feels good. This morning was perfect. We've been having a bit of a cold snap over the past few days and it has felt darn close to autumn (which is approaching more rapidly than I like to think). Today, however I woke to sunshine on the birch leaves outside my window. I donned my running shorts, a t-shirt and shoes and walked to the front door of my cabin. Outside the air was fresh and about 40degrees. It felt damn near perfect. Suddenly I wasn't tired, I no longer wanted to crawl back in bed, breakfast no longer called to me from the pantry. All I wanted to do was run.

So I leashed up the dog and I went.

Yesterday and Today's Totals

Just back from my evening run. There was a pleasant mist in the cool, almost autumn feeling air. I followed some of the neighborhood trails for a few miles working my way up the slopes of Ester Dome. Some distance I up, I grabbed another trail and worked my way back down. Not one of those perfect, effortless runs, but not a bad one either.

OK the mileage totals from today and yesterday:
22 July: Running- approx. 4 miles. Vertical gain: not much.
Mountain Bike: 6.5 miles. Vertical gain: Approx: 800ft

23 July: Running- 5 miles. Vertical gain: 400ft

Some History

I think I will start with a bit of background. A few years back, 2002 I think, I realized I was wickedly out of shape, fatter than I'd ever been. I didn’t much like it. Unfortunately I've never been one of those people that can just go get fit, when I wanna get fit, just cause I wanna. Instead, I've always needed a goal, a reason, some light at the end of the long dark tunnel.

Fairbanks, like many small cities, hosts a marathon. Now Fairbanks' marathon is not your average marathon. It is no flat, paved, obstacle-free route. It is neither easy nor safe. Runners of the Equinox Marathon navigate rock and root infested trails, slippery leaves, steep dangerous chutes, and climb well over 3000 vertical feet during the 26.2 mile route. Sitting there in my living room one cold and dark winter day feeling fat and pathetic, I decided I would run it.

In honor of my decision, I put on a pair of old running shoes, pulled on just enough clothes to keep from freezing in the sub-zero temperatures and huffed and puffed my way on a mile long run through my neighborhood. I felt like shit, and immediately questioned my decision. But the next day I ran it again, and then again the next day until soon it didn’t feel so bad. I lengthened my route steadily and began to follow the training schedule in the excellent book: The Non-Runners Marathon Trainer.

Come September and the fall Equinox I was with the pack when the cannon fire went off and sent us on our way in a cloud of blue gun-powder smoke. Five hours later, I crossed the finish line, feeling utterly whipped and yet incredibly good. The down side is that the 3000 feet of downhill gave me a nasty case of tendonitis in my knees that kept me from running for almost three months. I quickly tumbled back out of shape. The up side is that I learned I am capable of these feats if I’m willing to try AND have a worthy goal. And that goal, my dear readers, is what I’ve been searching for.

The Beginning

There are about a million blogs out there on fitness training. Go ahead, Google it… I’m telling you its got to be about a million, maybe two.

And here is one more.

With this one however, I hope to spin the genre a bit. I’m not an expert. Far, far from it. This, I hope, is exactly why people will want to read this. I’m just a guy. A young-thirties, 250lb, six foot one inch, not unhealthy guy. I live in the Far North. Fairbanks, Alaska to be specific. I’m active and relatively fit for my slightly chunky physique. I’m not overly stupid. I like to read, and eat. I love being outdoors. And, like most people, I’ve wanted to be more than just healthy, more than just fit. I want to be uber-fit. I want to be able to run 20 miles whenever the mood strikes. I want to be able to ride my bike 100 miles…in the mountains…through the rain.

And I’d like to lose some of this suet around my middle; the suet that I’ve carried with me since I was little kid. Baby fat I was told, I would grow out of it. Well I’m into my thirties now, and I think that ship has sailed. I’m stuck with it. Or perhaps not…

Some of it is vanity, I suppose, but most of my desire to lose the fat is that the things I like to do, backpacking, climbing mountains, riding my mountain bike, skiing, would all be so much easier and more enjoyable if I weren’t dragging around 40 or 50 extra pounds of blubber. I’ve got this hunch that I’m actually a pretty fit dude beneath that goo, and I’d like to find out for sure.

So there’s the motivation. And the reason for writing this blog. I’m hoping that going public, albeit anonymously (for now at least), will motivate me to get going. To do more than just jog my 15 miles a week. To do more than go on my evening bike rides. To do more than just maintain. And maybe, just maybe, drive me a little closer to participating in the Great Divide Mountain Bike Race, in a year…or two.

You’re invited. Follow along. I’ll give you the daily (or almost daily knowing my history for keeping up with these things) reports of my mileage by foot, bike, ski, canoe, and kayak. Maybe I’ll share a few pictures.

Join me.