Go, you chicken fat, go away!

I wanted to run about 6 miles this morning.  As soon as I started running I realized I had to make a pee pee.  I knew there was a public restroom at Gene Autrey Park.  About a mile and a half in I felt my ankle getting irritated.  I thought perhaps some pebbles had gotten in my sock.  When I got to the restroom I realized my sock was too low and my shoe was rubbing against the back of my ankle.  I knew if I kept running it would get worse, so I called my daughter to come pick me up.

I've always wanted to do the Colorad Ragnar.  Now I never want to do it again.  But I did have a fun time and a great team.  And it was a beautiful course.  The problem was I never got acclimated to the altitude.  I knew it was going to be rough after walking up the first flight of stairs at the motel.

My first leg was 7.4 miles with an 800 foot climb from 9000 feet to 9800 feet.  It was extraoridinarily difficult.  Here are a couple of pictures.

My second leg was at night.  It was 9.1 miles.  There was more downhill than uphill, and it was a little lower in altitude.  So I was able to get it done at a pace a little over a minute faster per mile than my first leg.  No pictures.

My last leg was 3.0 miles.  It was uphill again, so it pretty much sucked.  It wasn't even that steep, but I was spent and it was hot.  I stopped to take this picture.

Colorado is a very pretty place.  Too bad everyone there is a pothead!  Right, Nan?