As the sun rose over the dry Colorado Desert, Brit and her lifelong friend Megan, from schools Burlington and Sunset, prepared to run 31 miles together. A 50K trail ultra. I’m not sure if this photo below is from the start or the end of the race, because they looked fresh during the entire saga.

Thelma and Louise were in rhythm over the hardscrabble slick rock on the south side of I-70. They say the north side is less rocky and more flowy. They talk like that in Fruita, a mountain biking Mecca with more brewpubs than churches. I’d consider giving up the views of the Colorado River and Monument at Pizza Overlook for some soft running dirt considering I rarely took my eyes off my footfalls.

With Megan leading the way, the girls ran close to the edge of the canyon.

Megan’s daughter Luna helped Coco babysit Brit’s little Margot Fay back at the AirBnB while the mothers enjoyed their quiet time Colorado style – running for eight hours through massively technical single track.

Seriously, this is how Colorado mothers relax.

I know because I was there. The leaner, twenty pounds lighter me after Karen tracked me on a diet since February.

I started out with the girls in the corral. In that first mile, before queuing up on the single track, I ran behind the girls. Once I felt warmed up, I told them that my legs had muscle memory and they remembered running fast. That was the last I saw of them.

And then, there was only me. For the next seven hours.

I was able to toss my alpaca wool jersey to my crew, Eric after circling around the Rustler’s Loop trail and put on a fresh tank to run the remaining twenty miles. Perfect timing for a blazing cold desert sun. The photo above would have been about three hours into my seven and a half hour ultra. The mountain air didn’t rise over the mid 70°s, but the sun reached through the atmosphere to sear my skin like it only can on the Kokopelli Trail.

I have to say, I didn’t expect a desert trail to be so pretty. One never expects much of the desert. Some places you have to visit. But OMG, it was like running with scissors. I hadn’t been on a technical trail since my little tumble on the Wild Turkey Loop last November. This trail was orders of magnitude more rocky, more uneven, more deadly. On my first steep rocky downhill, I felt as if I’d been kicked out of the nest. And I was still stuck in that starting line mass where I had to walk when they walked and run when they ran. I trusted the process and got through it. The crowd didn’t open up with some running room until just short of three miles into it. Ten percent of the total distance.

I got to the end though. I learned tons to prep for my 100K ultra in Bandera next January. I learned how to treat muscle cramps with salt chews. I learned the value of training my stomach for food. I learned I could handle double the hydration that I normally consume, if I stay focused on it.

The photo above captures what my weekend was like with friends and family. Everyone was cheering for each other and making each other happy.

My high school friend and epic hiking buddy, Rob was there navigating the trails as I’ve seen him do for nearly fifty years now. I honestly don’t know how I could know so many old runners, but at least a dozen other friends were there with me whom I’ve known for decades. Friends who taught me this weekend that whatever Lola wants, Lola gets. Even if that means I have to rub her ears like only I can.