Cursed Realm of the Faceless Ghost

Three easy miles on the road before work, wearing the flats to keep strengthening my legs. Now that I think about it, almost everything I've done for the last little bit has been in the gym or on the trail. This was my first road run in quite a while, and it felt pretty good, except for the freezing wind from then north.

Anyways, my right ankle has been hurting since Saturday. It's pretty much the same thing that happened to my left ankle a while back when I went out and ran ten miles with new stride, only it's not as bad this time. I was going to run a few miles more this evening, but I decided against it in hopes that my ankle will feel better tomorrow and even better on Wednesday so I can run Grandeur again--I've got a new weapon I'm itching to use.

It seems like I'm perpetually broken down these days. But on the plus side, my knee doesn't seem to be bothering me. I hope that my body will adjust over the next few weeks so I can get back to training as usual.

26:40

When we left Salt Lake, I was disappointed to have to leave Grandeur Peak behind. Fortunately, it turns out there is a Utah County equivalent in the direct route up Big Baldy from Dry Canyon. Although I can't confirm it yet (because I forgot to charge my Garmin), it climbs a bit more than 3000 feet over 2.5-3 miles, depending on which website you look at. I can confirm that the trail is freaking steep. My brother checked it out a couple of days ago and said it was a lot like Grandeur, and he's right. Once you leave Dry Canyon and hit the Big Bald trail proper, it's relentless and brutal. Or brutally relentless. I can't wait to spend time on it this summer.

Today I got a late start. That, combined with the fact that I was traveling slow (more hiking than running) and the fact that the trails were muddy or covered in snow or both meant that I didn't make it to the summit. In fact, I stopped a few hundred feet short of the false summit, because I had lost the trail under a few inches of fresh snow and because I was already afraid of the sketchy conditions on the descent and the possibility of running out of light. So I turned around. But it was a good hike, and I'm glad to have discovered a new route that I plan to use extensively this summer.

If you're reading this, you've probably noticed that the weather has been unseasonably crappy around here. Because of that, the Samurai suggested that Grandeur might be a bit too muddy today, so instead my brother and I met him a little farther south for a run on Mount Olympus.

I'd never seen the trail before, and I feel like I've been missing out. It's steep and technical and runnable, at least for the two miles or so that we ran today. I hear it gets much steeper for the second half.

Everyone was taking it easy today, so we hiked a short portion down low, but after that I settled into a groove and cruised up the mountain at a nice steady pace. The rain had slowed into a drizzle, so the moisture was more of a benefit than a burden, and the trails were wet but not sloppy.

The run down was equally casual, and that was fine with me. My calf is still hurting, so perhaps even that was too much. At least I had fun, though. Also, I almost hit the deck near the bottom, but instead of crashing I pulled out what may have been the best save of my career. Wild stuff.

I got out late for my run at Lambert Park tonight. I hope that I can blame the low light (I ran teh last half by the light of my headlamp) and the mud (it rained all day and it was still raining when I ran) for my slow pace, because otherwise I'm just out of shape. Still, it was a good run and a nice way to end the day.

Sore knee and no time means no running today. Grandeur Peak in the morning.

First things first: the Grandeur Fun Run is not really fun. And yet I'm sure I'll be back next year. And the next year. And probably as many more years as I'm living in Utah and running.

Before the race I had to deal with three gear decisions: tights or no tights, MT101s or Adizero XTs, and water or poles. I chose tights, MT101s, and poles. Right, wrong, and undecided.

I was in second place right from the start and by the time we hit the real climb I was in the lead. This worried me, because I was hoping to play it safe on the initial climb (last year I went out way too hard, as I often do, and blew up before the summit), and I didn't think that would involve me taking the lead. I was right to be worried, and by about halfway up the climb I was redlining and fading fast. It took about another quarter mile for anyone to pass me, but when I got caught I got caught by three runners.

Shortly after they passed me we hit the snow. This slowed me down a ton, because although there was a well-established trail of footprints through the shin-deep snow, the footprints must have belonged to midgets, and I just couldn't make them fit my stride. Plus, my poles had become essentially useless as they sank into the snow with each step. I decided to break them down right then.

I hit the summit in about 54 minutes with another runner about ten steps behind me. (For reference, my PR up the west face is in the high 40s, and although the snow slowed me down today, it didn't slow me down that much. I'm just nowhere near top form). Because of all the snow, the trail of the summit was buried and the course instead plunged straight down a snowy spine. I thought "no way" and told the guy behind me that he'd better go ahead unless he wanted to get stuck behind me. He bombed down the spine while I slipped, crawled, and picked my way down after him.

I continued creeping along the snowy ridge like the wimp I am, and it didn't take long for my friend Jon and another runner to fly past me. (Anyone who's run in MT101s knows that their traction is a joke, and they were clearly the wrong choice for the day.) But soon the snow ended and I was back on them almost immediately. I flew past Jon behind the other runner, and I stayed on his heels until we hit the bottom of the descent, when he suddenly jumped off the trail (I think there was something in his shoe).

There was an aid station at the bottom, but all they had were jugs of water for refilling bottles. No cups. I was thirsty, but there was nothing I could do without wasting time, so I continued along the Pipeline trail wishing I had brought a handheld rather than my poles. I settled into a 6:40ish groove and was right on the runner ahead of me almost immediately, but it only lasted for about half a mile. I was quickly reminded that I have not run much this year and that very little of what I have done has been on flat terrain. For the rest of the Pipeline, 7:30 was the best I could manage, and the the gap between myself and the guy in front stayed pretty constant.

If Pipeline lit the fuse, the climb up the game trail blew me up. I felt awful, and I pretty much gave up on life right there. To add insult to injury, I lost the trail almost immediately. (In fact, I stayed on the trail last year during the race, and I have yet to replicate the feat, despite many attempts to do so.) I crawled and scrambled up through the brush, and when I finally hit the ridge (after .25 miles and 550 feet, according to my Garmin), I could tell I was nowhere near the trail. So, I looked around and saw Jon and another runner run past a course marking a couple hundred feet below me on the ridge. Crap.

I scrambled down the ridge and got back on course, but by then it was pretty much over. I made it down the steep, technical descent of the ridge and limped back to the start on the final miles of singletrack, taking a major digger with less than a quarter mile to go.

In short, today was not my day. But I am glad I went, even if I was ten minutes slower than last year. (I'm not sure how I placed, so I'll update once results are posted.)

My pride still required that I hit at least 30 miles for the week, so in the evening my brother and I met at the Dray Canyon trailhead for a run/hike/crawl up the Big Baldy direct route. We ran at a leisurely pace up the Dry Canyon trail, hiking the steepest parts, and after a mile we turned onto the actual Big Baldy trail and set into a steady hike. By the time we were a quarter mile from the summit ridge, the combination of mud and a thin layer of snow made the trail so slick that we were forced to crawl until the snow got deep enough for us to post-hole our way (with bloody shins) to the lightning rod on the false summit.We were running out of daylight, so we turned around there. After a very slick and sketchy descent off the top we were able to make decent time on the run back to the car.

I had my Garmin tonight, so I can give a better picture of what the Big Baldy trail is about. According to Connect, it was about 2200 vertical feet from the Dry Canyon trail to the false summit in just one mile. Take that, Grandeur.

Anyways, 13.5 miles and about 7000 feet makes for a pretty good Saturday.