Business

It's the third week in March, and it's time for me to get down to business.  Meaning:  time to get some serious running training started.  I've been "maintaining" fitness all winter with minimal running miles (about 20 per week) mostly on flat terrain.  I counted up my ski days:  14 days ski touring, 10 days skate skiing, and 5 days skiing in resorts.  Spring is here to stay, I'm afraid, and it looks like although winter still hangs on some days with a dusting of snow and some cooler temperatures (40s... not really "cold"), most days are 55-60.

So, getting down to business means:  an interval run once a week (6-10 times 1-2 minute intervals at 7:30min-mi pace, which is pretty fast for me), more trail running, higher weekly mileage, a weekly "long" run, and more elevation gain.  I looked back through my running log, and the last time I did an interval run was over 3 months ago:  Yikes!  So, last Thursday in the Park, I hit the intervals, and man did my hamstrings feel it for the next couple of days.  I did a longish run on Sunday (13 miles) and felt kind of/sort of worked by the end of it, but at least I'm feeling stronger.

Talk about getting stronger, even with the fair amount of skiing I did this winter, I am feeling my quads today after a 6-ish mile trail run and about 2,000 ft of elevation gain up to Mt Van Cott above the University.  I didn't push it:  just ran easy 11 min-mi pace average (with 20-25min-mi pace on the climb) and my legs are aching today!  I took the dogs for a walk in the Park this evening just to loosen things up before I hit a hill-interval/repeat session tomorrow.  Ouch!

So why all the focus on intervals and self-inflicted pain?  Well I have a bit of a schedule planned for the summer.  First race is coming up just a couple of short weeks away:  the Zion 50k (about 31 miles for those of you measuring in statute units).  I'm guessing that after my experience yesterday with the achy quads, my "race" in a couple of weeks will be more like a training run for what I have planned over the summer.

The other part of my plan is to start throwing down consistent 40+ mile weeks, working my way up to high 50s or low 60s by mid-summer (July).  I'll do one 50k race in early August and then start tapering for a big event.  Here's the line-up:

April 5th:  Zion 50k
May: 3 days in a row of 20 miles each day or a 40+ miler (self-supported)
June 7th:  sweep 20 or so miles at Scout Mountain 100k (formerly Pocatello 50)
June 14th:  Yellowstone Half-marathon (with my sis-in-law, this will be her first half-marathon)
June 20th:  Bighorn 100
July:  5 days in a row of 20 miles each day
August 5th:  El Vaquero Loco 50k, Afton, Wyoming
September 4th:  Wasatch 100

Honestly, I don't know how it happened that I signed up for all of these races!  (Or as I like to call them, "events".)  I guess I signed up for the Zion 50k because I needed a longer training run before Bighorn, and I wanted a cool hoody sweatshirt.  I'm helping friends out in Pocatello, and that's a dang tough race, so I'm happy to only be running 20 miles of it instead of being committed to the whole thing.  Yellowstone Half is self explanatory, because I want to support my sis-in-law, and it will be a good last longish run before Bighorn.  At Bighorn, I have a score to settle (not really, but I'd like to improve on my time from last year).  The July deal (100 miles in 5 days) I did in 2013 and felt super strong afterwards, so I want to do it again.  It was really fun to run local trails and have a daily routine where all I had to think about was:  wake up, run, eat, sleep, repeat.  It's the 10th anniversary of El Vaquero Loco, and the race director says he has big plans, so I can't miss out on that!  And, I will get another cool hoody, so that's an added bonus.  Wasatch 100:  yeah, what was I thinking?  I always sign up for that lottery and don't expect much and then I get in...  go figure!  A great race supported by an amazing, local trail running community.  Hard not to pass up the opportunity.

So, I have a lot to look forward to the next few months.  Big plans means getting down to business.  Wish me luck!  And happy trails...

Happy to be hitting the trails
on a chilly Spring day ~

Frank & Artie on Mt Van Cott

Heavy Heart

It was with a heavy heart that I walked into St Ambrose Catholic church today, for the funeral of a good friend's mother.  My friend's mom was the definition of the word "moxie".  She was tough, opinionated, strong, talented, athletic, loving, welcoming, and loved by many.  After the loss of my own mother (and father) years ago, I could empathize with my friend and her family of 8 other siblings in the loss of their mother, just a couple of years after the loss of their father.

The service was lovely.  A Catholic mass that went on past the hour mark, with eulogies telling countless memories of this wonderful woman.  It was so entertaining to hear the stories of how innovative she was in the face of so few resources and so many (9!) energetic children, who are so smart and talented in their own rites.

I've been blessed over the years to have shared Thanksgiving dinners, babysitting duties, time camping, and afternoon picnics with such a beautiful, loving family.  A family that accepted me into their circle more than once because, I guess, if there's 30 people at the table, it doesn't make much sense not to include one more.

Some of the members of this family I hadn't seen in a few years.  It was really great to see them again and share some stories and some hugs.  I'll always remember the kindness that they have shown me.

“Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.” -- Dr. Seuss

I got angry today ~

 Today was not a good day, for multiple reasons.  I'm going to tell you about one of those reasons.

Salt Lake City has been plagued by "bad air" this winter.  Not just this year, but for many years.  In recent years, it's been getting a little more attention.  A combination of the geography of this beautiful valley and its mountains, the high pressure weather systems that move through, and the emissions created by heavy industry, automobiles, and just plain living (like heating our homes) all contribute to the problem of bad air.  Everyone agrees that it has to stop.  Very few people actually do anything about it, although that fact also seems to be changing in recent years and months.

I have been trying to "do my part" by riding the light rail train "Trax" to work.  It's not a long ride:  just 4 miles and 20 minutes each way.  But it's 20 minutes less each way that I am in my car, stopped at red lights, idling and adding to the problem of our bad air.

Every morning after getting off the Trax, I walk past a Century Link building, near the Madsen Health Center.  It seems to be some sort of maintenance building that house switchboards and servers.  Every morning, I walk past three (fat) guys in their utility trucks, with their engines idling.  I arrive anywhere between 8am and 9am, and there are always at least two or three trucks there.  Idling.  For an hour -- or more?

Someone asked me, "Well, it's cold outside.  Where are they supposed to go?  How will they keep warm?"  I don't care where they go, as long as they are not in their trucks with the engines running.  They can go to Dunkin Donuts for all I care.  It's warm in there and there's free WiFi.

There is an anti-idling law in Salt Lake City.  No resident, even if they are on their own property, is allowed to idle a vehicle for more than 2 minutes (the length of most stop lights).  Cutting down on idling can cut down significantly on the amount of pollution that is trapped in the valley, especially on cold-weather, high-pressure "inversion days".

Today, I'd had enough.  I walked past those Century Link guys in their idling trucks and I told them to "Turn the key.  Shut it OFF!"  And do you know what they did?  They smirked and shrugged their shoulders at me.  And they left their engines running.

Do you know what I did?  I called Salt Lake City police dispatch.  If you see idling vehicles, especially from utility companies or from the city or county, I encourage you to do the same.  The number is 801-799-3000.  These people are not going to do anything to change their ways unless we get angry.  Unless we decide to do something.  Unless we stand up and say, "I don't want to breathe bad air anymore, and WE ALL are part of the problem."  We all can do better.  We need to change our ways and we need to try.

I will walk past that building again on Wednesday.  I will let you know what happens.  I will also be writing down the license plate numbers of those trucks and turning them in to the police the next time I see them idling.  It's time to do something.  It's time we all do something.

2/1/13, 5:26pm

12/31/13, 3:14pm

A New Year ~

Franklin & Artemis
waiting to open presents~

We are well into the New Year and I haven't posted since Christmas time.  I must admit, I didn't want Christmas to end.  I left the tree up well into the second week in January.  The Christmas season did get a bit extended for me, since I was up in Portland with a friend and her two daughters for a few days and wasn't around to celebrate with family.  So, for New Year's, my brother and sister-in-law came down to Salt Lake from Pocatello for a couple of days and we opened presents together.  We skied at Alta on New Year's Day, and despite the low snow conditions (we are currently at 70% of our normal snowpack) we had a really great time.

I've been out backcountry skiing some, although not as much as last year because of the conditions (I'm really getting tired of the term "monsters in the basement") but really have been skate skiing as much if not more than I have been out touring.  The Mirror Lake Highway is groomed and although a little bumpy from the snowmobile traffic, absolutely delightfully soft.  The skate tracks in Park City are getting a little firm and icy with all of this high pressure, but are hanging in there.

My brother, Stefan, and Mimi-kitty ~

I skied in area a couple of other times too:  Deer Valley hosted the World Freestyle Competition which was an Olympic qualifier for the Americans, and I got in on a friend's event pass for free (it pays to know people!).  My friend's boss, who gave us the event and day passes to Deer Valley, was set up right by the Audi cars on display in the finish area, and we were just a few feet away from Jonny Moseley and the NBC crew when they were filming the intro commentary for the event.  I  also skied at Brighton one day last week and was pleasantly surprised by the laid-back atmosphere of that hill.

This week's adventures featured the Outdoor Retailers' Show in downtown Salt Lake City, and the national outdoor crowd got to see how bad the inversion [smog] has been with all of this high pressure.  It was great to catch up with folks at the show and see a lot of really great outdoor gear.  I worked with the Trail and Ultra Running website and looked for gear at the show that we could potentially product test and review on the website.

Deer Valley Moguls Competition

The Altra booth at the show is always a good time, with Seth Wold, Brian Beckstead, and Golden Harper's great enthusiasm and positive energy.  I was pleasantly surprised that the women's promo product line samples are all in my size, so I was able to try on every shoe in the line. Super fun stuff!  I have some Olympus trail shoes ordered and on their way, and am looking forward to running in the super-cushiony comfort of this fabulous looking show.  The Lone Peak 2.0s got a little bit of an upgrade with 3mm more of stack height, so they will ride a little more cushioned as well, but are still a nice low-profile shoe.  The Superior 1.5 is a classy looking shoe with a new upper and color scheme.

I feel like for the last month I have had less time for adventuring, since I've been working 10-12 hours one day a week at an urgent care up in Ogden.  It takes about 45 minutes drive time each way as well.  A little tough to motivate for, because I get slammed all day seeing patients, and the intensity never really lets up, but the staff is really supportive and great, and the extra cash will be nice for buying gear (I already have another Patagonia puffy coat on order).  I'll be working there for three or four months, filling in for one of the other providers who is on leave right now.

2014 Altra Women's trail shoe lineup~

So when I finish up my stint up in Ogden, it will be just about time to run the Zion 50k down south in Hurricane, Utah on April 5th.  I'm still getting out running here and there, despite the skiing and skate skiing, and was pleasantly surprised recently when I ran 10 miles on the streets here in town and it still felt really easy, despite "only" running 20-30 miles per week.

Perhaps the most exciting news of the New Year is that I was asked to be a member of the HUMRs (Happy Utah Mountain Runners) group.  This is a group of totally-fabulous trail runners here in Northern Utah.  Everyone in the group absolutely lives and breathes trail running and having met many of them over the last year, I've learned that they are such a fun group to be around.  I'm looking forward to running, laughing, and socializing with them.  I'm apprehensively looking forward to my "initiation" rites, which will perhaps take place at Rooster's Brew Pub in Ogden.

Gotta hike up to ski down ~

The ski down was fine ~

Me and my brother skiing at Alta

The dogs and I skate skiing the Rail Trail
in Park City ~

Mirror Lake Highway, High Uintas, Utah ~

Christmas then and now ~

When I was a kid, we celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve, Bavarian-style.  I remember dressing up in my German dirndl dress and sitting with my mom and brother on the stairs while my mom read us a Christmas story from a big, red book.  We were really antsy with anticipation of presents and a special dinner.  There was a special Bavarian mountain club record that my mom would put on the stereo, with German yodeling songs and carols.

Part-way through my mom's reading of the story, my dad, who was downstairs, would ring a cowbell and yell out, "He's here! He's here!"  And we would go racing down the stairs and into the glassed in porch to find the Christmas tree, that we had cut down from our back acreage and brought across the property on a toboggan, aglow with real candles.  The lighting of the candles was always a mystery to me.  Apparently, it was the Christ Child (Krist Kindl) who lit them.  This was kind of a fuzzy image in my mind, because the image of a baby or small boy somehow got mixed up with the traditional American image of Santa Claus, and I was never quite sure whom I was supposed to be looking for as my dad called out that "He" was here and had lit the candles on the tree and brought the presents.  (Come to find out, my brother, being two years older, knew for several years that it was my dad, not the Krist Kindl who was lighting the candles, but kept it a secret as not to spoil it for me.)

The best present of all was always a large box with pink butcher paper on it, and a string to hold it together.  It was addressed in black marker, and had probably a dozen stamps on it with blue "Luftpost" stickers as well.  It was a box from my grandparents in Germany.  The other Christmas presents were great, but this box was truly special.  There was always a Steiff stuffed animal for me, lots of chocolate, some model train kits for my brother, and hand-knit sweaters from Oma.

After opening presents, my dad was of course starving for dinner after embarking on process that took entirely too long.  We would sit down at the table by the wood stove with our cozy new sweaters on and eat traditional Bavarian cold cuts, cheese, and fresh bread.  My dad always had something gross like creamed, pickled herring (which I now, of course love!) and would try to get us to drink a special drink of red wine mixed with ginger ale (like a kids' wine spritzer?!?) that was totally gross.

Someone asked me the other day, "Well, if you celebrated on Christmas Eve, what did you do on Christmas Day?"  We played with our new loot, of course!  Oftentimes, after our cousins were done opening presents on Christmas Morning, we would meet up with them and go ice skating on the lake or cross country skiing in the woods or on the golf course.  I remember the stark whiteness of the snow, the sparkling crystals, the clear blue skies, and the laughter.

Although my Christmases are quite different these days (there are no candles on the tree), I do try to keep some traditions intact.  My brother and I typically celebrate with a Bavarian meal of cold cuts, cheese, and fresh bread.  My sister-in-law's family celebrates together on Christmas Eve, so that tradition has changed for me a bit, but I think of it as an extended "Christmas week" in which the festivities are carried out for a longer period of time because the last few years we have celebrated together on Christmas night, the day after her family celebration.  This year, I won't be headed up to Idaho to celebrate with my family until the New Year, which I'm really looking forward to.  Hopefully I can get some skiing in with my brother and sister-in-law, and I'm sure the dogs will score all kinds of loot.  Kitty won't be left out from the gift giving (or receiving), but she'll be guarding the house and taking cat toys (aka ornaments) off of the tree, no doubt.

Christmas time truly is a magical time of year.  Full of thankfulness and giving.  I am so thankful for everyone in my life and the good fortune that I have had.  I am thankful for being able to give gifts to those whom I love and appreciate.  I am thankful for the people who have mentored me, especially the ones who are not physically here anymore but who live on in my heart.  I am thankful for having good friends and family who support me in everything that I do.  I am thankful to those whom have been cruel to me, because I have learned so much from them on how not to live my life.  I am so thankful for having two very strong legs to carry me wherever I wish to travel and for two happy dogs who remind me to smile, no matter what.  I am thankful for a little black kitty who reminds me of a certain little gray kitty.

I wish everyone a peaceful celebration and a prosperous New Year.

Taking a look around ~ the Oregon Coast

Netarts Beach

Sometimes you have to step back to take a look at what just happened.  The impact of my trip to Oregon nearly two weeks ago is just now hitting me.  Looking back through the photos from my trip, I am amazed by the beauty that surrounded me and the wonderful people whom I fleetingly crossed paths with.

Three Arches Wildlife Refuge, Netarts, Oregon

On Tuesday, November 12th, I loaded up the car and the dogs and headed north.  Much farther north than I have been in quite some time.  I drove 10 hours, and after a nice pit-stop to walk through a park in Boise in the 5th hour of our journey, I found myself topped out in the Whitman National Forest, heading for the high plains of the Columbia River Gorge.  The sun was setting just as I was headed down I-84 and the switchbacks which lead to Pasco, Washington, where I would overnight with my friend Jamie and her husband Shane.  On the way to see them, I had gassed up the car in Baker City, Oregon, which is absolutely worth the side-trip just to see the quaint Main Street in town.  A ribbon-cutting ceremony was taking place just as I arrived, and I chatted with the gas station attendant about my awkwardness with letting someone else pump my gas, which is the law in Oregon.

Cape Meares Lighthouse

I spent an all-too-short night in Pasco at my friends' house, and upon awakening the next morning, I found that the entire Columbia River Valley was encased in thick fog.  I drove west to the Oregon Coast, another 5 and a half hours, and marveled at the thousands of wind turbines along the cliffs above the Gorge that were not there 10 years ago when I traveled this way.  I stopped off along the Wilson River Highway (OR-6) and went for a nice trail run with the dogs in a mossy, dense forest.  The place looked, sounded, and smelled just like the forests in Germany where I love to run.  It felt good to stretch our legs after a day and a half in the car.  After a little over an hour on the trail, I ate a quick Nutella sandwich and headed towards Tillamook.  Leaving the trailhead, I couldn't help but feel a little lucky that I hadn't seen a soul on the trail as I passed a prison work camp and work-crew logging truck.

The walk to the Secret Beach at Cape Meares

I stopped in Tillamook just long enough to by some groceries and continued on to the town of Netarts, Oregon, a tiny, sleepy little fishing town just 30 minutes west of Tillamook.

The next 2 days would be spent reading books by the crackling log-fire, walking along the beaches in the rain, and exploring trails through the forests and capes.  The dogs had luck on their side as well, as Artemis tried unsuccessfully to drown herself in the 10 to 15 foot surf and also avoided getting swept out to sea in the riptide.  Her instinct to chase seagulls and cormorants is impressive, to say the least.  The cormorants (smartly) dove underwater when she got close to them and she was perplexed by their sudden disappearance.  After the near-drownings, she spent a good amount of time on the leash and we still had a wonderful time exploring despite being tethered together.

I hiked down a mile and a half trail to a small (100 yard-long) beach at Cape Meares one afternoon to find starfish, anemones, and red crab in the tide pools.  Not a soul around on this rainy afternoon, although Franklin did find a porcupine along the trail (no quills!).

Another day, I hiked along Cape Lookout, with 300-400 foot cliffs just off the trail to the side.  As songbirds darted amongst the cliffs, I could only imagine a yellow dog chasing the bird and suddenly finding only air beneath her feet instead of the mud and slippery rocks.  I kept the dogs close on the leash, to avoid a 300 foot drop which certainly would have ended in a lengthy swim along the coast back to a beach in the best case scenario (I tried not to think of the alternative).  I could see the big black rock of Cape Kiwanda from the overlook off the end of Cape Lookout, and resolved to head that way after the hike.  Along the Cape Lookout trail, I chatted with a 50-something old couple from Layton, Utah and a guy my age who tried to convince me to drink a "craft" beer at the Pelican Pub in Pacific City (it was only 2pm.  If I had drunk the beer that early in the day, I would have been asleep with the dogs in the back of the Subaru before making it back to the cabin).  I smiled to myself at his reference to craft beer, which I'm pretty sure most of the rest of the country calls micro-brew.  (See reference here.)


Driving the Whiskey Creek Road to the south, we stopped at Cape Kiwanda and went for a nice run along the beach in the rain with the receding tides (I didn't drink the beer at the Pelican Pub).  I found a good keeper sand dollar (most of the ones I found were broken due to the rough surfs) and a broken scallop shell.  I stopped at the convenience store for a latté, which was likely one of two worst lattés I've ever had in my life (the other being in Three Rivers, California) and scalded my tongue.  I did get some really great smoked halibut dip for a snack in the afternoon and decided that the owners of the store should stick to seafood, not coffee.  The dip was salty, smoky, and delicious.

Cape Lookout

Day three found us, sadly, packing up to leave the small cabin that had been our cozy home.  The time went by so quickly, and I wished I could have stayed longer (I would have had to buy more firewood).  Before driving up the Coastal Highway 101 to visit Cannon Beach, I stopped at the Tillamook cheese factory and watched the Saturday crew packaging cheese.  They all waved and smiled.  I watched the video of the history of the Tillamook Valley and how the dairy cooperative of family-owned farms started over 100 years ago and continues to this day.  I think it wouldn't be a bad job to retire to that little town, and spend a day or two a week working in the Tillamook factory.  Everyone was so nice and friendly and the scenery reminded me of Germany with the green cow pastures and rolling hills of coniferous forests.

Cannon Beach was beautiful in between surges of small storms that were coming off the Pacific.  On the way there, I passed through the idyllic fishing town of Garibaldi and put it on my list of places to visit in the near future.

I spent the night again in Pasco, Washington at my friends' house, but not until again passing through the incredible Columbia River Gorge.  I took a bit of a scenic route, taking old US Hwy 30 from Moser to the Dalles, and was rewarded with magnificent views of rolling vineyard hillsides and a rainbow out over the Columbia.

The view of Cape Kiwanda from Cape Lookout

Despite the rain, it was a wonderful, relaxing time on the Oregon Coast.  I didn't run a ton of miles, but was able to heal up some nagging injuries and mental fatigue from the long summer of running that I had this year.  The dogs and I were absolutely exhausted when we got home to Salt Lake City.  It's a long drive to the Oregon Coast, but absolutely worth the effort.

Cape Kiwanda Beach

Cape Kiwanda

Packing up ~

Crab Avenue ~ Netarts, Oregon

Cannon Beach

Secret Beach at Cape Meares

You can't have rainbows if you don't have a little bit of rain.

A lot of people have already heard about what I did for my birthday this year.  And I have to say, it was absolutely fabulous.  Surrounding myself with people who share the same ideals in life in a beautiful mountain setting made my day, quite possibly, the best birthday yet.

Running literally all day gave me time to reflect on birthdays past and think of my family and friends for whom I am so grateful.  Lots of memories flashed through my head:  driving in a rainstorm to Red Lobster with my immediate family, looking at my new sticker book in the back seat of the car.  Carving mini-pumpkins with my friends on the front porch of our Michigan farmhouse.  Sharing yellow cupcakes with chocolate frosting and adorned candy-corn pumpkins (to this day, my favorite) that my mom had made for my 4th grade class.  Going to my brother's house in Salt Lake where he had baked me the exact same themed cake:  yellow cake, chocolate frosting, and candy-corn pumpkins on top.  Hiking with my first dog, Roxie, at Park City Mountain Resort and taking in the fall colors.  Hiking to the top of a Salt Lake mountain peak with my dogs and returning to the car to receive the last voicemail I would ever get from my ailing father, who had always in the past forgotten my birthday.  Running 40 miles in the mountains near Pocatello, Idaho with one of my best friends, both of us in our hunter-orange safety vests.  Tracking down the mailman in my neighborhood who had a ten-pound box of chocolate for me from my best friend in Germany.  So many good adventures.

October can be a tricky time to have a birthday, in part because of the weather.  But sometimes that weather can be the most glorious of the year.  This year, it meant perfect running temperatures, golden foliage, snow-capped mountain peaks, and of course a little bit of rain (rarely does it NOT rain on my birthday).  But the lesson I learned this year, is that you can't have rainbows if you don't have a little bit of rain.  A metaphor for life, really.

42 miles of running in honor of my 42 years on this Earth.  Quite symbolic.  Quite simply ~ fantastic.  Friends, cupcakes, cocoa, cookies, and running on the trails.  I'll be looking back on this one (fondly) for a very long time.

11 hours, 5 minutes.  42 miles.