Author Archives: Ed Mahoney

Gentleman Trail Runner

29 Saturday Sep 2018

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canyon walls

Don’t bother calling my mobile next week.  Doubt I’ll have much of a signal running through the canyons of Southern Utah.  I’ve been reading my race guide and getting excited as I look at the photos.

trailfest trail

Initially, I was worried these trails were over my head, but I gained confidence two weekends ago hiking twenty-six miles in ten hours on the CDT.  I’ll have no trouble meeting the cut off times for the trailfest half marathons.  I’m looking forward to this now as an awesome three-day workout.

hoodoo view

At 12 and 13 miles, the courses will be triple the distance of what I generally run.  But with views like these two photos above and below in Bryce, looking out at hoodoos, I imagine wanting the miles to continue.

hoodoo trail

I almost don’t feel worthy of such spectacular trails, not being in better shape. So what.  This will be killer training ground.  Running 37 miles across the best trails the western high-altitude desert has to offer is the best antidote I can think of for my current running malaise.  And spending all this time to myself might be good to recharge my introverted mental capacitors.

tent city

Runners who rent tents will reside in the apparent orderliness of a monochromatic color scheme.  I’ll pitch my one-man tent in the more discordant array in the center of the photo, expecting to meet like-minded people.

Chute

I’ve studied the course elevation profiles and I’m not overly concerned.  Bryce Canyon will be the toughest with nearly 5000 feet of elevation variance, but Zion and the Grande Canyon are almost flat by comparison with less than 2000 feet of variance each.  Not to say each course won’t have challenging sections.  I am happy to see ladders, as I consider myself, certainly while in my current state of fitness, to be a gentleman trail runner.

ladder

I’ve run some great trails in my day, but next week will be like dreams come true.  I’ll be living life, as runners were meant to live it.  When I come back, I’ll be a runner again.

trail top

 

Slow takes Practice

22 Saturday Sep 2018

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slow loris

Running slow is not easy.  It takes work.  You have to practice running slow.  I’m just now finding this out to be true, and I’m immediately sharing this information with you because I figure you might want to know.

I’ve said this before, muscles have memory, and mine remember running fast.  So it makes perfect sense that I would have to train myself to run slow.  I’ve been struggling all these months not because I’m slow, but because my legs have been trying to run faster than is sensible.  I’m running too fast because that’s all I know.

Today, I practiced running slow.  Running is so much easier when you move your legs within their limits.  Not everyone can do this.  I recommend wearing a pair of Beats ear buds to override your memories of running fast with slow-playing content.  Think Diana Krall.  Just slow it down.

Less than two weeks before Trailfest.  Running thirty-seven miles over three days in national parks Trump doesn’t know about yet.  It’s time for me to start training.  Slowly.

Sky on Fire

16 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by in Colorado Trail, Running

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Never Summer

La Plata and I rejoined for a second hike this summer along the Continental Divide Trail.  We met at the Bowen Gulch trailhead off Hwy 34, inside the Rocky Mountain National Park.  We left my car there for our finish and drove through Granby for Hwy 125, which took us up to Willow Creek Pass.

The yellow and burnt orange aspen were much thicker here than in RMNP.  La Plata said the colors were incredible between Durango and this valley.  Their color was echoed by the sun setting under plumes of smoke from the Kremmling fire as we drove up the pass.  The smoke filtered blues on top of hot pinks, mirroring the inferno below, telling the story of our summer with the sky on fire.

Willow Creek Pass

We set off at 6:30am and tracked forty-five minutes of fast-paced progress before I discovered I’d left the keys to my car back in La-Plata’s car at Willow Creek Pass.  This added ninety minutes to our twenty-two mile trek, and a good four more miles.  Today would be a marathon.

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I discovered a new 200 calorie snack bar that I highly recommend – Bulletproof.  I ate their lemon cookie for breakfast.  Yum.  I doubt there is anything else on the health food market anywhere close to this tasty.  The Kremmling fire smoke is in the picture below – those aren’t clouds.

Bowen Pass 2

Hiking with La Plata is like trail running with anyone else.  Fortunately, the section of the Continental Divide Trail between the Willow Creek trailhead and Bowen Gulch near Grand Lake is mostly below tree line.  My breathing seemed good despite the altitude and La Plata’s torrid pace.  He schooled me with this unyielding pace for the earlier blunder with the keys, not slowing down until we crossed Bowen Pass, our high point a little above treeline.

Bowen Pass

Can’t thank him enough.  Always the coach, and actually a personal fitness instructor, this training will serve me well for the three days of trail half marathons in Utah and Arizona next month.  I did have to run at times to catch up with La Plata in the early going.  I took advantage of downhill sections of trail.  We maintained a strong two mile per hour pace.  That’s good for high altitude mountain trails.  Standard walking pace is about three miles per hour.  I don’t expect the Trailfest to be nearly this challenging, except that it’s three days in a row for a total of thirty seven miles.  Recovery will be paramount.

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I missed the photo-taking for Ellie’s homecoming dance.  The kids looked good.  The first photo is with Ellie and her boyfriend Will at Chautauqua.  The second is the group shot.

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Pussyfoot

08 Saturday Sep 2018

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I recently rediscovered the gravity-defying benefits of treadmills.  Turns out, I can run pretty fast on those things.  I’d forgotten that when I returned to fitness years ago, I first started out by walking, and then evolved to running on treadmills before finally pounding the pavement again.  It’s a progression that works.  So most of my runs the last couple of weeks have been on the treadmill at the office.  Seriously, it feels like I’m actually running again on those things.

I still run the trails on the weekends but it’s time to start picking up my game.  I tried to defer my October Trailfest event again but they wouldn’t let me.  Turns out you can’t keep putting things off.  This event has rules.  I paid a hefty registration fee last year and I can’t just let it go.  I’m running it.  Or walking it.  Whatever gets me from start to finish.

Knowing I’m committed now is exciting.  Lose ten pounds or die is the way I feel right now.  Each of the 3-day half marathons have cut-off times to reach their respective aid stations.  It would be helpful if they shared the actual times, it’s a little scary not knowing.

I decided to move on from my weekend routine of the pedestrian East Boulder Trail to a real mountain trail.  I ran Heil Valley Ranch today.  Last time I tried it I don’t think I made it to the top of the Wapiti trail.  I did today, and ran the shorter loop up top – seven and a half miles in all.  That’s my longest run in half a year.

This is a real trail.  Rocky.  Technical.  The two and a half mile climb was hard enough on my lungs, but managing my footfalls was also surprisingly difficult.  I expect to be able to regain my trail skills if I get out there every weekend, but conditioning is part of the process.  Running slow helps but you have to be strong enough to pick up your feet.  I’ll continue to run on the treadmill at the office during the week, but I’m done pussyfooting around on the weekends.  I’m back on the mountain trails.

September’s Coming

18 Saturday Aug 2018

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shoes

Today’s run on the East Boulder Trail began with 70° air and wet mist in my face.  The clouds were thick riding on wind from the mountains.  September’s coming.  I looked into her gray eyes as I climbed each hill, and felt the coolness of her breath on my skin.

With a mile and a half and the water tank hill remaining of my run, she increased her intensity, blowing wind at my chest and raining hard.  The dirt turned to muddy clod on my shoes.  I slipped a few times, but with my trail spirit Lobo running alongside me, I never fell.

A week ago, I was depressed, unable to run this trail without walking the hills.  I was ready to abandon running, but running won’t give me up.  With the cool, wet weather, I completed every hill today.  If you were out there too, then you know what I’m talking about.  September coming to Colorado is an almost mythical experience.  Like U2 at Red Rocks.  After reaching the top of the water tank hill, the sun lit up platinum-blue clouds over the Indian Peaks.  Mountains previously obscured by forest fire haze.  It was magical.

The rain stopped as I reached my car.  I brought along a dry shirt, so I used my drenched T as a blanket for my muddy shoes.  I don’t mind getting dirty with running though.  I pray for more of the same tomorrow.

Left Handed

13 Monday Aug 2018

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Left-Handers-Day

This is getting creepy.  Am I the only one Facebook notified that today is International Left-hander’s Day?  On the other hand, this exceptional profile accuracy renews my faith in the omnipotence of their algorithms.  If their AI knows I’m left-handed, then they should be able to resolve this Russia thing.

As much as I appreciate the recognition, I can’t pretend to understand the value having this day brings to me.  No doubt, extensive lobbying went into making this day available to us lefties worldwide.  Not sure I’d give my right hand to keep it, but I wouldn’t give it back.

I will say this.  In fact, I’ll let my future son-in-law say it for me – visually – captured here as I was spying down on the city of Telluride.  Whether you’re AI, or a bot, or some photo-opportunist, I know that you know that I know you’re watching me.

St Sophia

Run Fat, Eat Slow

05 Sunday Aug 2018

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fat runner

I’m still running, if you can call it that.  I run the East Boulder Trail on Saturdays and Sundays.  Mountain trails are out of the question right now.  This trail is pedestrian enough for my current skills, while presenting me with hills that give my cardio a workout regardless of how slow I take them.  I have to tell you, it’s not fun.  As much as I love running, running fat is a painful exercise.  I’m doing it though to stay in the game.  I won’t always be fat.

I don’t expect to able to run my 3-day October event, the Grand Circle Trailfest.  A half marathon each day through Bryce, Zion, and the Grand Canyon.  At any time over the last nine years, I could run a half marathon at the drop of a hat.  Now, my ability to run a 10K without some walking is questionable.  I’ll likely try to defer this to next year.  The splash of realism in my face came last week from my doctor.  He said he won’t let me run it without agreeing to take some tests first.  What a wet blanket.  How did I fall so far, so fast?  I know how.

Typical story.  Lose weight slowly.  I lost an average of five pounds per year over a series of years.  Then I maintained it steady for awhile at what I think is my sweet spot, 175 pounds.  Then, cancer dropped me down to 165 for a couple years, and like everyone else, I’ll admit that didn’t look so good.  It did help me to run fast though.

After the 2017 Colorado Marathon, I stopped running almost completely.  I went from running on average seventy miles a week, burning and replenishing 3000 calories per day, to running about ten miles per week.  Problem is, I kept consuming those 3000 daily calories.  A man my age should maybe eat 2000 calories per day.  I gained thirty-five pounds in six months.  Fuck.

I know enough about nutrition and exercise to understand I need to focus first on diet, then exercise.  I’m starting to focus on it.  Change for most things comes through routine.  I know how to do that.  Of course, knowing how and doing it are two different things.  At the same time, I’m beginning to work more on my second book, which is essentially a second hobby.  And writing is more fun than running fat, so I tend to put more effort into the writing.

But I don’t want to give up running.  It’s been a constant throughout my life, with memories all the way back to childhood.  Forgive the play on words from the popular running and nutrition book, but I’m going to run fat and eat slow until I return to form.  Until I can run six miles again without having to walk every little hill.  That 3 day run through gorgeous national parks is probably out of reach this year.  That’s fine.  I just want to drop a good ten pounds so I can enjoy running in the Colorado fall.

Ellierose

22 Sunday Jul 2018

Posted by in Ellie Rose, Storytelling

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Ellierose text

Fräulein Ellierose navigated Fankfurt on her return flight, but not without texting her  review.  That she referenced the Munich airport over Frankfurt was just enough to make me get up and check the flight status.  She arrived to Graz via Munich but departed via Frankfurt.  Our weary little tourist clearly prefers Munich over Frankurt.  Simple typo from a worldly traveler.

DIA

I would have gone straight to bed after reaching home.  Ellierose went to a little home coming party at Wendy’s house.  Her friends were there, making it somewhat of a surprise party.  She returned home around midnight, with some leftover party-goers, making it a sleepover.  I’m not going to bother doing the math with Austria being eight hours ahead, but that had to be a 24 hour day minimum.

Wnedy's house 5

I’m grateful to Tina and Wolfgang for hosting her.  They took her to Salzburg and Vienna.  They even took her to Venice.  And Tina packed Ellierose two sandwiches for the flight.  Quite the host mother.

Wendy's house 3

I was concerned Ellierose would return with some ink or piercings.  But as Brit suggested, she returned instead with lots of new clothes.  Oh, and she changed her name.  Something girls do at about her age.  She insists we all include her middle name now, so it’s Ellierose until we’re told otherwise.  After traveling to Europe for a month on her own, she can choose her own name.

Wendy's house 4

Mount Evans

15 Sunday Jul 2018

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Ed on Guanella Pass

The best hikes begin with camping.  I’m pictured here at dusk beside my one-man, Big Agnes tent, perched about a hundred yards from the upper parking lot on Guanella Pass. Signs posted in the parking lot say “no camping”, but the guidelines aren’t clear.  A reasonable person would believe that to mean within fifty yards.  We weren’t alone.

It’s been about a year since I’ve been camping and I will tell you that I enjoy it as much as the next day’s hike.  It’s mostly the stars that I find so special.  Absent the ambient city lights of the Denver metro, the night sky is absolutely stunning.  The first stars to become visible are actually planets, first Venus, the evening star, followed closely by Jupiter and then Mars appears as a red twinkle.  I have thoughts watching their light emerge from the darkness of early man viewing the same night horizon thirty thousand years earlier and maybe learning to count to three.  Soon after the arrival of Mars, too many stars flood the night sky to count.

mountain goats

We woke at 4:30 and hit the trail an hour later, after packing up and enjoying trailhead coffee.  The upper parking lot was filling up and the lower parking lot was completely full, with fifty or more cars parked along the road.  If you’ve hiked Mount Beirstadt, then you know how crowded that trail is.  With the pass sitting above tree line at 11,669 feet, Mt. Bierstadt is one of the most attainable 14ers in Colorado.  But Rob and I didn’t take the trail up to Bierstadt.

Still in the willows, we turned left at the creek crossing.  There’s a faint, unmarked trail that follows the banks, until it disappears in the willows.  The trail existed on some map Rob studied before our hike.  A map he left at home.  Having a map would seem wise when entering the forest and mountains of Colorado, but we knew where we were and about where we wanted to go.  We shuffle parked our other car at Echo Lake, on the other side of the mountains that lie in front of us, roughly thirteen miles easterly from Guanella Pass.

Rob on Mt Evans

I can tell you the trail didn’t exist on the map I studied before hand.  It’s safe to say, there is no trail, so we bushwhacked our way through the cold, wet mud and willows in a pointed direction to the saddle that sits north of Mount Bierstadt.  Trails did emerge at times, animal trails no doubt.  Rob’s general tactic when having lost the trail is to proceed upwardly toward higher ground.  There was no debate, up was where we wanted to go.

We encountered climbers at the top of the saddle.  Rather than presenting a trail down the far side, turned out the other side of the saddle is what climbers call the black wall, a sheer cliff with a thousand foot drop.  Our trail was another quarter mile uphill and to the right.  It’s actually a loop and we continued up Mount Spalding, and eventually to Mount Evans itself.  It’s not an easy trail, at times more of merely a route marked by cairns.  The climb was exhausting.

Ed on Mt Evans

Of course, you don’t have to hike for miles to reach Mount Evans, there’s a paved road that allows visitors to park a hundred or so feet below the massive pile of rocks that form the peak.  As far as we know, we were the only hikers atop Mount Evans who arrived via the unmarked trail from the Guanella Pass direction.  This is a rare mountaintop that is reachable by paved road.  I very much recommend it.  Visitors were taking pictures of mountain goats as they stood in line for the restrooms by the observatory.  Where else would you find that experience?

Our descent was just as brutal as the climb up.  The first thousand foot drop from the peak contained switchbacks as tight as a staircase, and the steepness continued for several thousand more feet, hammering my thighs and quads to where I still can’t descend the stairs in my house today without holding onto the railing.  We reached the Echo Lake Trailhead after thirteen miles and nine hours.  Another epic hike in the books.  Can’t wait to get back out there.

Dirt Trails

01 Sunday Jul 2018

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dirt trail 2

Two days in a row running the East Boulder Trail, up and down the white rock cliffs.  These trails are easy, soft dirt, compared to the rocky mountain trails out around Lyons and Left Hand Road.  These dirt trails are a better fit for my current state of fitness.  The true mountain trails are so technical and I’ve lost some of the requisite skills of negotiating my footfalls along the path.  And they are much, much steeper, causing me to walk more than run.  I can generate a little bit more momentum over these dirt trails.  I can take my eyes off my feet and enjoy the views of the Indian Peaks.  You can see them in this photo, just over the crest of the hill in front of me.

grasslands

The East Boulder Trail contains rolling hills through grasslands where, centuries earlier, the buffalo roamed.  Now I roam these hills, and have for the last twenty-eight years.  The grasses are nearing waist-high in some places.  We’ve been getting some good rain so far this season.

steep

I ran all the hills, on a six mile out-and-back, yesterday.  It might have been cooler yesterday, and I ran really well.  Today, not so well.  No doubt, my legs were tired from yesterday.  I swear to you, the same hills were steeper today.  The trick is being able to climb the first big hill on the return without stopping.  My experience is if I stop there, like I did today near the top, then I’ll walk the final hill that leads up to the water tower – which I did today too.

dirt trail

Regardless, this trail always gives me a workout.  And the downside of each hill on the East Boulder Trail is generally rewarded with a nice view like this.  Sometimes, running in the mountains, you can’t see the forest for the trees.  The East Boulder Trail though always gives you an awesome view.  I will never tire of my runs on this trail.

 

Fräulein Ellie

30 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by in Ellie Rose, Storytelling

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Processed with VSCO with b1 preset

Ellie has been texting back photos from her first week in Austria.  They prompt me to recall Audrey Hepburn in the 1954 movie, Sabrina.  I won’t be surprised if she returns with short hair.  Or maybe the modern-day equivalent, a tattoo or piercing.  Brittany tells me it’s more likely that Ellie will simply return with new clothes.

wine

More likely, Ellie will return with expectations of drinking wine at dinner.  She’s yet to obtain her driving license, but that’s not a requirement in Austria for imbibing adult beverages.  Three more weeks of Ellie exploring Europe.  Life won’t be the same when she returns.

Letting Go

23 Saturday Jun 2018

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DIA 2

A big trip for me when I was 16 was driving three hours across Texas to the beach.  Ellie wanted to leave the country.  I know, we all do.  We dropped off Ellie at DIA yesterday to fly Lufthansa to Austria – on her own.  Just watching her navigate the security line by herself was hard for Karen and me.  Letting go, one vacation at a time.

DIA 1

We embarrassed her with our photo-taking, tracking her progress through security like parents sending their 5 year old off to their first day in kindergarten.  Ellie navigated switching flights in Munich – Europe’s 7th busiest airport.  She arrived in Graz around 2pm CET and called us to let us know she was safe – 6am MDT.  She’ll be visiting her childhood friend Izzy for the next four weeks.  Karen and I will be adapting to life as empty-nesters.

The Irrigation Ditch

16 Saturday Jun 2018

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irrigation ditch 1

I don’t talk up the irrigation ditch at N. 83rd St. on the Lobo Trail enough.  Back when I ran big distance, fifteen and twenty milers, its strategic location three and half miles from my house was a life saver on hot summer days.  Nowadays, I would argue running seven miles is easier than running six.  Sloshing around my hat in that cool snow melt and putting it back on brings my legs back to life.  More than anything else, that stream brings me back home.

irrigation ditch 2

The air is still a bit hazy from the fires down in Durango.  Running a few miles Thursday gave me sniffles and a sore throat.  Risked it today because the weekend is my only chance to get in any real miles.  I think the air is better than Thursday.  My buddy La Plata said it rained good down in Durango yesterday.  Natural hydration.  Helps me on my runs and the best response to those forest fires.

They Grow up so Fast

10 Sunday Jun 2018

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Lea Marlene

We watched Brit perform a couple of skits Friday night at the Lea Marlene Acting Studio on Pearl Street.  Come to think of it, we watched her last Friday too, singing at the Denver Bicycle Cafe.  She’s become our go-to event for Fridays, no doubt risking over-exposure.

Camilla Susser

Brit acted out scenes from Steel Magnolias and The Importance of Being Earnest.  Brit played Shelby, returning home pregnant for Christmas in Magnolias.  As you can see in the photo, Brit played pretty, young Cecily in Earnest.

Brit with ellie n rachel

We hung around a bit afterward for the cast party.  Brit was happy, as you can see in the photo above with her friend Rachel and sister Ellie.  Brit is in her mid-twenties now, and it’s special to still go watch her perform, like we did when she was a child.  She’s engaged now.  I expect events will change.  Brit will turn her focus to her family.  We’ll still have Ellie for a few more years.

The Cyphers

02 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by in cyber war, Novel

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steganogrphy

I belong to a covert writing club.  We publish on the deep web.  Like using steganography.  I probably shouldn’t say anything more.  It started from a private invite.  We publish privately to promote creativity.

If any of this sounds illicit to you, let me define terms.  The dark net is where people conduct nefarious transactions.  Dark net sites are generally also part of the deep web, but the deep web is not inherently bad.  It’s simply web sites that have not been indexed by search engines or otherwise have their access obscured.  The metaphor is of an iceberg.  We use the Internet that’s been indexed for queries.  That’s the tip of the iceberg.  The vast majority of the web is not visible to us, like the deeply submerged section of the iceberg.

This started out as a way for us to hone our craft.  It’s also a good method to draft snippets of dialogue for later regurgitation in other works – for me, my novel.  I’m considering submitting my current writing for review, sort of like the conventional writer’s discussion group.

I’m relating this under my novel category because I think it’s a novel approach (forgive the pun) for writers to practice their craft.  Your contributions can be easily copy/pasted years into the future into derivative works.  A post today by one of the other writers spoke to me so directly, it felt unnatural.  Like the narrator had a Gods-eye view into my life.  That’s impressive writing that does that.  Not only will I benefit from the writing exercise, but I expect to read some really good stories, exclusive to my private group.

 

The Art of Slow

26 Saturday May 2018

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“I’m in no rush.”  That’s what I told myself today as I parked at the trailhead.  I should be back on the LoBo Trail where I belong, but I deferred a run last October to this October.  The course runs upwards of 60 miles through Bryce, Zion and the Grand Canyon.  Over three days.  We’re in summer today, I felt it, but fall is up next.  I need to train on a mountain trail.  But I could give up thoughts of constant running today, on this trail.

At Heil Valley, I always warm up on the Lichen Loop.  I was out early enough to avoid direct overhead sun.  My current state of fitness won’t let me enjoy running up to the top of the Wapiti Trail.  I ran over a mile of it but didn’t make it to the top.  I don’t think it matters.  I just need to run up and down a mountain trail.  Doesn’t matter how I do it.  Could be more of a power walk, with stops to drink water.  Sometimes it was.

Part of the technical aspect of running such a rocky mountain trail requires attention to control.  For me, control highly correlates with slow.  Part of my plan already.  I was good.  I carried a water bottle, that’s how slow I started out.  I don’t know if I ever actually increased my pace, but I felt like I did at times.  Steep trails kill.

So I walked when needed, knowing that I would before I ever stepped out of the car.  I would try to run when going past other hikers and bikers.  Think what you want about me, appearances matter.  I typically pass bikers on the way up.  Not today though.  Probably not for a couple of months, if I train.  I ran strong though at times.

Whenever my lactate level would allow, I’d unwind over the dirt and rocks, and when I exceeded my lactate threshold, I either slowed down, or, with increasing frequency, I walked. Even the walking was a training experience.  Both cardio and  technical.  I re-introduced myself to trail running today.  It’s going to be an uphill climb, but starting is the hardest part.  And I’ve started.

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I know that I developed a pattern of streaking through sunlit meadows faster than the darker woods.  It just seemed smart to expose myself to the unrelenting rays of the sun today, as little as possible.  At times, I swear I could see beams of light slicing through the grass in front of me.  I think this photo above proves I didn’t imagine it.

I think, never stopping to walk with full sun exposure, was what got me home today.  Could have been the difference.  Hard to say sometimes whether it’s the heat or the hill.  Today it was both so I optimized my slower running to cooler parts of the trails.  That’s environmental leverage.  And because I carried water with me, I practiced a little hydro management too.  Point is, pace doesn’t matter.  Everything on the spectrum from walking to running  today counted toward the training I’m going to need for October.

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Running and walking with control, which is harder than you think on the downhills when you do it fast, meant that no matter how slow and controlled my pace was, I was getting something from it.  Technical training from my foot placement decisions.  Cardio from my random pace and the hills.  As I passed an older couple, one called out something to me and I replied back with something witty that made them laugh.  Then I laughed.  Going slow allowed me to take photos.  It was a good run

A Light Rain

12 Saturday May 2018

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7 miler

I don’t look up at summits.  I look over them.  I’ve been struggling lately to increase my distance beyond five mile runs.  I do that by not turning around until after three and a half miles.  I’ll do the math for you.  Were I to complete my runs, I’d get in seven miles.  I keep falling short, having to walk in the final mile.  That makes six for any readers having trouble keeping up with the numbers.

I’m okay with that.  Aiming high and falling short is the best path to the top.  Forward progress is my only true goal.  Today I ran all seven.  Could have been the cool temps and light rain.  Still, I wouldn’t have run seven if I only attempted five.  See how that works?  Bring on more rain.  Tomorrow I aim for eight.

Mileage is Trending

28 Saturday Apr 2018

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Garden of the Gods 2010

I used to run.  A lot.  I ran high school cross country my sophomore year and have identified myself as a runner ever since.  Even during those twenty or so years, raising kids and chasing career, when I rarely ran, my self-image was still of a runner.  This photo marks when I got back into road racing in 2010.  See that old man behind me who looks like he’s a few steps away from death?  This is at the five mile turn-around during the Garden of the Gods ten miler.  He was 68 years old while I was 48.  He finished two and a half minutes ahead of me.

I was just getting back into running then.  Returning to form was a journey.  Debilitating injuries.  Plantar fasciitis.  Arthritis in my symphysis pubis.  Lost weight at a rate of five pounds per year.  Worked my way up to a hundred miles per week.  Never ran more than seventy in college.  I started running a couple of marathons each year and became competitive for my age division.  Then my running came to a stop.

A year ago, I determined to focus on my career again.  I expected an impact to my running but not the addition of twenty-five pounds and two inches to my waist.  Damn.  The real surprise though has come in the last couple of weeks when I’ve tried to increase my mileage.  Simply trying to run five miles was leading to pain in my left leg.  It’s an insult to my pride that I can only run five miles now, but injury too?

I think I understand the cause.  My left foot pronates.  That’s fine until a runner over strides.  Modern shoes, as in shoes since the late ’70s, promote over-striding.  As a response to overcoming injuries after I got back into running, I trained myself to shorten my stride.  That wasn’t as easy as I just made it sound, but it remedied my plantar fasciitis.

What I discovered is that I am so flipping fat, I can’t run with a shorter stride.  A shorter stride requires a quicker cadence, and I’m no longer in shape enough to run with a quick cadence.  My muscle memory has me trying to run with a shorter stride, but I start breathing so heavy that I scare walkers in front of me as I come up behind them.  I believe my legs autonomically corrected my stride to be longer, so that I can breathe.  This lead to pain building from over striding.

I was able to figure that out on my own.  And this week, I’ve run with enough repetition that I think I’m improving.  For the first time since I ran my last marathon, almost a year ago to the day, I’ve run four times in the last seven days.  I do well with repetition.  I’m pretty excited.  I feel like my mileage is trending in a good direction.  I don’t have to run a hundred miles a week, but it will be nice to firm back up again.

Slate River Valley

30 Friday Mar 2018

Posted by in Snowboard, Snowshoe

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This is our Austrian exchange student Caroline’s first trip to Crested Butte and the Slate River Valley, so naturally we stopped for a quick pic when we crossed the Continental Divide.  Monarch Pass sits 200 miles from our house, assuming you duck into BV for a bite at the Eddyline Brewery.  Ninety minutes later, we checked into the Elevation Hotel & Spa.  Don’t ask me to explain the holes in these girls’ pants.  I blame the influence of Emma Gonzales.

Ed

Karen and I hiked Friday morning from the Slate River Trailhead.  The snow was packed hard enough that we left our snowshoes in the van.  Not a great snow season for Colorado, but there’s enough.  We trekked along another trail above town after lunch.  We’re learning our way around Slate Valley.  If you’re not familiar with Crested Butte, it sits in a gorgeous valley, north of Gunnison and south of Aspen.

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The girls got in a full day of snow boarding.  So warm they didn’t need their ski jackets.  Tomorrow should be even warmer.  Nice views from the mountain with the clear skies and full sun.  BTW, Camp 4 Coffee is the best in CB.

coffee shop

We’ve yet to eat out at places we’ve been before.  As good as we know they are, we’re still exploring this town.  We ate at the Last Steep tonight.   Looks like a cheap sandwich shop but will surprise you.  We do plan on pizza at Secret Stash tomorrow though.  Too good to ignore that one.

Izzies

 

Fat & Slow

18 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by in Running

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mom 031818

I like to blog on my good runs.  My fast races.  Those moments where running is almost an out of body experience of exhilarating performance.  Today, I’m just thankful for not ever speaking ill of slower, less fit runners because right now, those are my people.    Running fat and slow is certainly less satisfying but I’ll take it.  So happy to get in my one run each week.  Sad that I can’t seem to run both Saturday and Sunday, but I’ve learned to take and enjoy what the trail gives me.

I never ventured beyond the Brushy Creek Regional Trail as part of my trip to Round Rock, but I got in a couple of six milers.  My positive spin is that these massively slow runs in the Texas spring have contributed to my acclimation to heat and humidity.  Part of my prepping for the summer conditioning plan.  All part of the master plan.

I didn’t do much of anything down here outside of working my 12 hour days and spending what time I could with my mom.  I’d get up at 5am to spend some quality time sitting together in the morning, both reading the paper and watching CNBC.  Our conversations would center on her top concerns, and occasional family history.  I have to say, old people are extremely regular in their tendency to reference BMs and constipation in a sentence.  By the time my work day was over, it was nearly her bed time.  I did get some things done around the house and went to church with her on Sundays.  Roasting a chicken at this very moment.

Wish I could have met up with friends.  Sorry I couldn’t hook up with George at the 512 Brew Pub.  I did however sample multiple locally crafted IPAs.  512 was my hands-down favorite.  My brother-in-law, who plays tonight at the Carousel, told me last night to try their Pecan Porter. I head home Wednesday night.  Glad to have had the opportunity to visit.

SXSW

04 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by in Storytelling

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IMG_1776Hah, fooled you.  This is not a blog covering the digital creatives that descend on Austin in March.  I am however in Austin.  I realized my mistake upon arrival at ABIA yesterday.  Conditions inside the terminal were claustrophobic.  Thank God I didn’t try to rent a car.  Still not sure how I scored a ticket on Southwest for under $100.  Must have beat the real crowds by a few days.

DIA was packed too, with home-bound skiers.  As bad as I’ve ever seen it.  Southwest maintains a seemingly random pattern of kiosks in front of the ticket counter for travelers to claim their baggage tag.  People didn’t know how to queue up efficiently.  It didn’t help that an agent walked around barking out instructions that there is no line.  No idea what she meant by that.

The lady directly in front of me panicked when her turn came.  She fumbled around in her purse for identification or her smart phone.  Her bag didn’t just spill, it literally exploded its contents onto the floor.  Apparently stressed, she shrieked like a banshee out of frustration.  Like in a scene from Home Alone, a hundred travelers all hushed themselves to stare at her as she sunk to her knees, sobbing, to collect her belongings.

After all this, my flight wasn’t full and I was able to spread out with my newspaper.  My brother picked me up and we stopped for lunch at some pub in the Domain.  I quaffed a 512, a locally crafted IPA.  Pretty tasty.  Looking forward to some more local food and beverages, and hopefully a few trail runs, over the next several weeks.

Bluebonnets & Cactus

24 Saturday Feb 2018

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Feb 24 2018

After a brutally cold and snowy week, today’s near freezing temps felt fine for a seven miler on the LoBo Trail.  The warm Colorado sun helped.  The wind picked up at one point alongside a harvested corn field, and I put my jacket on.  I was able to tie it back around my waist again after turning around.  What were once head winds carried me home.

This could be my final frigid February run of the year.  Next weekend will be March and I’ll be in Austin.  Wish I hadn’t gained so much weight this past year, otherwise I’d run some races down in the Texas springtime.  I’ll visit some of my favorite trails though, limestone paths through Bluebonnets and cactus.  Perdernales Falls will be on my list, along with the Austin Greenbelt.  Maybe I’ll get back into running this spring.

Virtual Currency

18 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by in Geek Horror, Novel

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bitcoin image

Pretty sure I blogged late last year on my plans to buy Bitcoin.  I finally got around to doing that a couple of weeks ago.  I don’t care to start conducting transactions with virtual currencies.  This story is the best of many I’ve read that details exactly why virtual currencies aren’t really a thing yet, and won’t be for some time.  Perhaps not until quantum computing becomes pervasive.  I’m doing this for the experience.  To be able to relate accurate details in my next novel.  I referenced a bitcoin transaction in my last book but I glossed over the details.  One can’t write a tech thriller on cyberwar without speaking to virtual currencies.

I won’t go into too much detail here on my experience.  I think I’ll mostly provide links to some of the best stories I’ve discovered, and you can click on them if you’re interested.  I actually repeated a number of stories from my ten years of blogs in my last novel, and I will again.  So writing this post is more about building my reference library of content for book two than anything else.  Some of this will be useful to you if you are considering purchasing a virtual currency.

Since my goal isn’t becoming rich, I only purchased $100 of Bitcoin.  I wanted to invest just $5, and that’s an option, but there are transaction charges, and it occurred to me it’s more easy to do the math on $100.  It’s quick for me to understand the $2.99 cost of buying my $100 of Bitcoin is basically 3%.  I’ll incur similar future transaction charges and they would all be much more from a percentage perspective for only $5.

My first step was to read the Internet to understand how to begin trading Bitcoin.  I discovered I needed to register at an Exchange.  I settled on Gemini because it seemed the most professional to me.  It’s run by those Winklevoss twins whom successfully sued Mark Zuckerberg for a substantial share of Facebook.  After registering nearly two months ago, the Winklevoss twins still have not completed verification of my identity.  They did contact me once to inform me that my drivers license photo was too blurry and that I should resend it.  I did.  Nothing but chirping crickets since.  Seeing this as a red flag for future customer service interactions, I signed up with Coinbase – which is probably the most popular exchange.  Took a couple of days for verification, mostly because I did it over the weekend.  Go with Coinbase.

My research indicated that one should not leave their virtual currency sitting with an online exchange, given the history of these places having their reserves constantly hacked.  North Korea’s Icarus has made attacking exchanges their specialty of late.  Icarus is the modern day Bonnie and Clyde.

So I purchased a digital wallet.  I think I blogged on this already too.  I received the Nano Ledger S as a Christmas gift.  It’s pretty cool.  Cost about $79.  Another reason why purchasing only $5 would have been stupid.  The idea is one can transfer their Bitcoin from an exchange onto the digital wallet to avoid being hacked.  It’s mostly offline and connects to your computer via USB when you use it.  Transferring Bitcoin is essentially a copy/paste process.  Very easy to understand YouTube video here on how to do that between the Nano and Coinbase.

If I’m honest, using digital currencies is fairly complex.  But for a techie, sort of fun.  I created an account for myself at Bitsane too because I want to trade my Bitcoin for Ripple – another virtual currency that banks are starting to use.  Even more complexity as one cannot directly buy it.  Rather, you have to exchange Bitcoin for Ripple.  Yet more complexity.

There is nothing simple about trading Bitcoin.  It’s not something one can easily do from their 401K account.  But I’m a writer and my genre of tech thriller encumbers me to actually know what I’m talking about.  Fiction allows me to take some liberties, but readers of tech are interested in detail like this.

My Bitcoin stash is currently worth $130, after a single week.  $10 of that came from purchasing it from a recommendation, which you can do too from this link.  It will give you a quick 10% return on $100 transaction.  You and I will both get $10.  Seems like a better business model than actually trading Bitcoin.

Snow Run

10 Saturday Feb 2018

Posted by in Running

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Feb 10 2018

I don’t get out for runs like I used to, but I wasn’t going to pass up today.  The snow flakes falling outside the window were so big, they drew me out into the cold for a postcard perfect run.  I donned my tights but didn’t bulk up too much, wearing just a long-sleeved t-shirt and light running jacket, hat and gloves.  This storm is uncharacteristically humid for Colorado, but without wind, 15° is fine running weather.

After discovering last weekend I’m no longer fit enough for eight mile runs, I planned to turn back at this footbridge.  I continued on though for another half mile to Ogallala Road for a six miler.  Apparently I can still run six miles.  I was able to pocket my gloves after a short while.  I love snow runs.  I’ll be back out again tomorrow for another six.

Muscles Awakened

03 Saturday Feb 2018

Posted by in Running

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sisyphus

Ran today for the first time in weeks.  Bronchitis has taken its toll in January.  From running a marathon last May to now, it’s been a slow decay.  By mid summer I was only running weekends.  By fall, just Saturdays.  And January, mostly not at all.

Heading out, initially it was my massive midsection that I noticed.  Like Sisyphus, I powered my stomach forward, enslaved to my fattened body parts.  Twenty pounds heavier since running the Colorado Marathon down Poudre Canyon. I didn’t bother timing my pace.

I ran by Allison, strolling her baby on the LoBo Trail.  I stopped to chat since I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her, and because I didn’t think a full stop would noticeably impact my overall pace.  A half mile later, I soft-tapped a low five to her father Steve, running behind her.

Heading back, after making it to my four mile turn-around point, I discovered my atrophied muscles.  I’d been wondering when my legs would lose their tone.  Overall, my legs still look fit but it’s the high thigh, the quads, that shouted out to me on my return.  It’s the same feeling after about twenty miles into a marathon when those quads begin to melt.  When you’re out of shape, this occurs at four miles instead of twenty.  I had to stop and walk a couple of times, not because I was winded from my heaving belly, but from the pain screaming from the tops of my legs.  Regaining my conditioning is going to be a challenge.  I’m starting over, from the bottom again.