Previously it was thirteen. But Colorado beauty comes in fourteens. Fourteener’s to be precise.

Today my good friend Ben and I decided to do Grey’s and Torreys, two of the most popular fourteener’s (mountains with summits over 14,000 feet in elevation for those of you non-Coloradans). Blessed with good weather and a lack of injuries, it was a beautiful day and we had a glorious time!

We were doing it so that I could prepare for my treacherously daunting Pikes Peak Ascent (or Assent as it was called yesterday by a former teacher of mine over sangria, different story though). We didn’t end up running more than a couple minutes, but we still made good time. I also feel much better that the altitude was not as bad as I thought it may be, it bodes well for my confidence at my race.

Rather than tell all the gory details, I will just include the highlights of the day and let the pictures speak for themselves:
* Watching a dog try to chase a mountain goat down the side of the mountain
* Good chats and good hiking
* Summiting both peaks in good time
* Seeing people you know ambling down a mountain that you are ascending

And last but not least…

Hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend!

Sweet revenge has been my goal since last week (as well as having my cuts close).  Flagstaff, my favorite trail, had betrayed me.  Before we could make amends, I needed to conquer it.

Today I could sufficiently bend my left knee, so I decided to brave those twisted trails.  To my delight, I beat my time to the top by a minute despite some tired calves and 5 days off.  Success was mine! I was sauntering down slowly and carefully, appeased with my efforts.  Like a lioness prowling for gazelles, I stealthily wove through the trees and grasses with pristine calm, avoiding roots and rocks and gravel.

With the precision I navigated the section that so torridly tore my limbs last week.  A sigh of relief escaped my salty lips.  I was almost down.  Then, with the force of a rhinoceros, a rock flew through the earth’s core and made its exodus right where my right foot was to land.  Profanities echoed through the calm mountain air.

My ankle is now swollen and sore.  I sad and grumpy like a short giraffe.  Flagstaff is a spiteful and treacherous yet still sweet beast.

That’s basically what I was thinking when it was spilling all over me.

Rewind. Yesterday was an easy day. Truth be told, I didn’t really feel like going. I got home late so I wasn’t on my normal schedule which allows for maximum daylight and minimal mountain lions. I decided to go anyways though, because I am always glad when I do.

Chatauqua was packed, so I decided to try a new trail with less people, Crown Rock Trail. My plan was to run up for three songs after my warm up so it wasn’t too long. Turns out that it meets up with my favorite Flagstaff trail, and I couldn’t resist. I ended up running to the amphitheater because I wasn’t tired from running hard. It was nice up there with a pretty sunset and deer (although they make me scared that the feistier species are coming out soon).

When I got to the top I had this dialog: “Hey! That wasn’t so bad. You don’t really need an easy day. Besides, its getting dark. Maybe you should run down as fast as you can! You should work on your descents anyways. Brilliant!” With that, I took off. I was doing pretty well too. Until I was bleeding. I don’t really know what happened, except that one second I was feeling good about myself, and the next I had dirt in my mouth and was gushing blood from my knee. When I stood up, I was not feeling good about the general pain (especially since I ripped my hands open again, worst place ever). Fortunately a kind soul took pity on me and brought me down the mountain and helped me rinse off some of the dirt and blood.

Since last night, many wounds have at least closed, but I realized how much I take my body for granted. I rely on my face for some of my confidence, which was decreased today when I thought of my cuts. My palms get used for everything, from opening doors and typing to even picking things up. Not being able to walk up and down stairs regularly for fear of ripping open your knee is not the best feeling. Even though I have relatively minor injuries, I have been pretty affected. I hope to take that lesson with me and make full use of my body for as long as it is capable.

Check out my scabs!

Do you remember those miniature rain clouds that follow cartoon characters around when they are having a bad day? I have had one of those babies lingering over my head for about six months now, save blissful, reality-free Europe, namely since I graduated from college. I think the term is coined “Quarter Life Crisis”.

I don’t know if I am just not suave at handling change anymore, but I think the dynamics of everything changing in my life at once has had quite the negative impact on my psyche. New financial responsibilities, paired with job anxiety (how do I get one and more importantly, one that I like) pack a one-two punch for new grads like myself. Decisions about where to live, keeping friendships going and letting others go, trying to be a good family member/friend/girlfriend, and satisfy my soul and stay healthy has proved to be quite a challenge, and has taken a toll on my standard sunny/bubbly/perktastic personality. I like to call it my battle with negativity.

Don’t despair though, friends, things are looking up! Although I am not sure of many things at all right now, I have found a partial solution. My newest trick is simple: set small challenges and meet them so as to not feel perpetually like a large failure. Sometimes this involves lying to myself to get through things, but I never regret it in the end. As with everything, running is a prime example in my life.

I have been feeling pretty out of shape for the last while (pastries and wine are not kind) and have been down on my running skills. Every week, I make up a list of workouts to do, and have surprisingly high adherence (running makes you selfish though, be warned). What started out as painfully hard has become more of a bliss lately, and there is a palpable difference in my strides; hills that I used to walk are now conquered by a little “don’t give up just yet” that has found its way back into my head. Rising to these small challenges gives me a confidence in myself that I haven’t felt in a couple years.

The other day in my car, I blasted the music like I did in high school, sang as loud as I wanted with the windows down, and felt like my old self for a minute. It was pretty awesome. While I do let negativity get the best of me sometimes late at night, I am happy to report that things are turning around a little. Heck yes!

Today was the Teva Mountain Games up in beautiful Vail. It was a day of festivities filled with all things fun, mountain, and hardcore, including cycling, mountain biking, kayaking, bouldering, and my personal favorite, trail running.

I chose to partake in the running of the 10k, a seemingly friendly jaunt up and across Vail Mountain. Conditions were great, it wasn’t too hot or muddy. I was psyched up to get a time about an hour (having no basis for this whatsoever), and was looking forward to the race. If you reference the title, however, it was a little bit of a different story.

Or, a hugely different story. I got a time of 1:22:24, a far cry from my intended time. Before I analyze, let me just explain the course. It starts with a nice jog through Vail Village, before heading up the now grassy ski slopes of Vail Mountain. Within the first ten minutes, there is a hugely steep hill that nearly everyone walks on, before it turns into an uphill battle on a single track trail. This is followed by wider sections through trees, narrow paths darting across runs, and huge and steep intermittent ups and downs through both shaded forests and other assorted mountain terrain.

Many a thing went awry for me in this race, starting in March when I went to Europe to indulge in fine cheeses and wines without a care to my running fitness. More recently than that though, I contracted strep throat this week and thus hadn’t run in seven days. Additionally, I had many foes and follies during the course of the run, from a stabbing abdominal pain costing me many places on an easy set of terrain, to snatching slippery slope that coerced my body into colliding with it. My favorite heart breaker of all though, was when I missed the trail and made a quarter mile extra loop down to the bottom of a steep dusty hill and then had to make my way back up.

Let’s be honest though. Although I have a myriad of excuses to explain my poor performance, I just wasn’t prepared. Today I pushed my body for longer and harder than I ever do during a training workout, as if I had forgotten how to on my own. I need to internalize the good feeling of pushing myself on my own, as well as when I am around others. I need to put myself in more high altitude, steep situations if I want to get out of my comfort zone and improve.  Last but not least, I need to look forward to challenging myself and meeting my goals.  I really do think that I have a chance to do well at running this summer, but as my coach says, it is going to take heart and dedication.

The day was not over yet though!  Ryan, Ian and I had a ball watching the kayakers do battle down the river, bikers start off the blocks, and watch professional hardcore bikers complete a particularly treacherous section of the Hill Climb.  All in all, it was a huge success, a day filled with smiles, fun races, and good old Vail times.  I am pumped for next year.