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August 27, 2007
Just Briefly
My blog posting as of late has taken a turn for the infrequent.The seeming infinite busy-ness of life is getting in the way of doing fun things like this. Fortunately, that which is keeping me away from blogging is also fun, albeit in different ways.
Most specifically, coaching cross country amid my already harried first job schedule is what is currently consuming the majority of my time. And starting, quite literally, right now, I'm also taking graduate school classes (again) because I have that pesky Master's degree that I'm oh-so-close to finishing. So, if I can imagine life as busy in this moment, I'm scared to envision what will happen in a few more weeks.
This weekend I'm running my first official 50 mile race. I've previously raced about 40 miles during one of The Coastal Challenge stages, and I've run 48 miles across the Grand Canyon. But I guess this experience will be a little different.
I haven't had time to ruminate much on this endeavor, and I'm hoping that's a good thing. Here is what I have thought about: This course covers the same 25 mile loop (5000-ish feet elevation gain per loop) twice. Last year I ran the Grand Teton Trail Marathon in 4:56, which covers 1 of these 25 mile loops, plus a bit more. This year, I feel I have improved endurance and tolerance for big elevation. I also feel I have slower leg speed. I'm hoping that my strengths will enhance my experience, and my weakness won't be too relevant in this particular race. 11:27 won it for the women last year, but I guarantee that the winning time will be significantly faster this year. I will make every effort to run a close-to-even split between the two loops. That's about all I've got...
I forgot, I will make the time to finish a nutrition plan and gather my supplies this week, and that's really it.
Posted by Meghan at 7:59 PM | Comments (12)
August 20, 2007
The Middle Teton
I apologize in advance, this is going to be a long entry. So, here's the short version: My sweetie and I climbed the Middle Teton. It was challenging.
Now, here's the long version: I admit it, I'm a trail hiker and runner. Place me on a trail, and I'll go wherever it goes, around a hill, into a valley, up over a mountain. I've never really gone to the top of a tall mountain via a route, rather than a trail. However, in celebration of my 29th birthday (which is actually later this week), my sweetie and I did something a little bit different (for me), and summited the Middle Teton, in the Teton Mountains, Wyoming. My sweetie has spent a fair bit of time climbing and mountaineering, so summiting the Middle Teton via its easiest route is rather vanilla for him. For me, it was quite a challenge.
The weather in the Tetons had been crap on Friday and Saturday. Some sort of unsettled system came in and sat over the region, dumping lots of rain, hail, wind, thunder, and lightning from morning until evening each day. Sunday's weather prediction was the same as Saturday's, so we knew that we might not be able to summit. We decided to head out anyways with Gore-Tex, and turn back if the weather was foul.
We left the trailhead at Lupine Meadows, elevation approximately 6700 feet, in Grand Teton National Park, at 5:10 am on Sunday morning. The drive to the trailhead was incrementally quite foggy, but we could see an encouraging star-filled sky through the fog breaks.
We hiked for 2 hours on a good, well-graded (runnable, if one wished to) trail about 5-ish miles and 2000 feet elevation gain to a place called The Meadows. The Meadows often serves as a base camp for climbing the Middle Teton and the South Teton. Interestingly, the trail to The Grand Teton (the tallest and most popular mountain in the range) diverges from The Meadows. There were a few groups camping in The Meadows, and we passed quietly through in the still early-ish morning hours. At The Meadows, the trail ends, and the route towards the Middle Teton begins.
Just above The Meadows, there are two route choices up a nearly 1000 foot tall steep pitch. My sweetie thankfully led us up the easier of the two routes. It was mostly huge, van-sized boulders, some scree, and a little bit of slippery dirt. At one point, as we contoured across some slippery dirt, I became somewhat nervous. Below us, a stream of snowmelt undercut a huge snowfield. If we had slipped here, we would have been washed underneath the snowfield by this whitewater! We made it to the top of this steep pitch without issue, and the route flattened for a bit.
Now about 3000 feet into the climb, we observed that the sky was clear and the sun was warm. For the moment, the weather was looking great. Soon, the route steepened again, and we scrambled over some more huge boulders. Fascinatingly, we could hear water rushing underneath the boulders, but we couldn't see it! Of course, in many places, all I could see was a dark abyss in the gaps between boulders. Once we topped out over this pitch, again the route flattened into a more gentle climb to The Saddle.
The Saddle seperates the Middle Teton (to the north) and the South Teton (to the south). I think The Saddle is about 10,800 feet elevation. From there, the view back down the canyon we came from is fabulous, as is the westward views into the rest of the mountain range in Idaho. From The Saddle, the easiest route up the Middle Teton turns right (north) and proceeds towards, into, and up what is called the Southwest Couloir. My sweetie, having summited the Middle Teton several times, took us on a slight shortcut that bypassed The Saddle, to the base of the Southwest Couloir.
Via this shortcut, we climbed up and over the very top edge of a snowfield. Here, the going was finally getting tough, for a new mountain climber like me. The terrain was steep; the rock was loose; the snowfield was exposed. Physically, I was not challenged by this route. Mentally, I was becoming quite challenged. I unabashedly shed several tears here and told my sweetie that I didn't want to go any further. I knew the route would continue to become more difficult; I was uncertain if the weather would hold for the time it would take us to make it to the summit and back down again; I was just plain scared. In those few moments, I was really quite satisfied with making it this far. My sweetie was most supportive and encouraging, and I got my wits about me to start moving up again. Once above this, the route climbed some more big boulders and scree to the base of the Southwest Couloir.
To show you how much of a mountain climbing novice I am, I had no idea what a couloir was until yesterday. Basically, a couloir is a steep gash/gully carved out of hard rock. From the base of the Southwest Couloir, it was about 1200 vertical feet through the couloir to the summit area. This couloir was filled with loose rock and scree, and intermittent hard rock exposures. We climbed up, and up, and up. The loose rock and scree was really steep hiking and hands-over-feet scrambling. The intermittent rock exposures required a few actual climbing moves, using foot and hand holds. In the grand scheme of climbing, these moves were simple and straightforward. It was actually quite fun and easy to make the moves, though I feared my ability to down-climb them on the descent. I'm confident that I shed a few more tears over wondering whether I was going to make the down-climbs on the descent, but my sweetie assured me his assistance should I need it.
Once at the top of the couloir, the summit is a short but terrifying scramble up a jumble of highly-exposed (Think: multi-thousand foot drops on both sides of you) rocks. As I scrambled, I hollered with equal parts terror and exhiliration. At 10:30 am, 5 hours and 20 minutes after leaving the trailhead, we arrived at the summit of the Middle Teton, 12,804 feet elevation. I was shocked and elated and amazed. The views were truly amazing. It was also windy and cold. My sweetie gave me the grandest of hugs, as well as my birthday gift right on the summit! He gave me concert tickets to The White Stripes, and the tickets nearly blew off the mountain in the wind! We could only stay on the summit for about 15 minutes, because it was so cold and windy. We took some pictures, chatted (well, shouted over the wind), and stared open-jawed at the 360 degree view of the world. Besides, we were watching the puffy white clouds begin to gray, and we knew that, at some point, the weather was going to turn.
The couloir descent wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I was quite scared by the hard-rock down-climbs. As promised, my sweetie talked me down them, telling and showing me where to put my hands and feet. There was a lot of exposure, but the rock was solid and easy to stand on/grip. During this descent, I talked about laying down on/kissing the more stable flat ground, whenever we got to it. Slowly, surely, carefully, and without incident, we exited the couloir. This time, we took the long way over to The Saddle because it was easier, and so we could see the views that The Saddle offered. And, the views didn't disappoint!
We had originally talked about resting and snacking at The Saddle (Believe it or not, aside from the time on the summit, we hadn't yet taken a legitimate rest break.). However, Mother Nature was beginning to show her colors. At well over treeline, The Saddle isn't a great place to be in a thunderstorm, so we kept heading downhill. We then set our sights on The Meadows, 2000 or so vertical feet below us, as our resting spot. As an aside, we had encountered 5 other people while climbing that morning. Three women were headed for the South Teton, and 2 other women summited the Middle Teton a bit after us. All of us got early starts on and off of the mountains, because of the volatile weather way up here. However, on our way down from The Saddle, we met up with 2 guys who were headed up the Middle Teton in the early afternoon, in what appeared to be declining weather! Sometimes I don't understand humanity, and I guess I should stop trying. I hope that they safely summited! The descent back to The Meadows was uneventful but slow because of the technical terrain. Jumping, swinging, and scrambling through the boulders was hard but fun work!
Once back in The Meadows at treeline, we opened our packs on a wide rock and gorged ourselves. At this point in the day, The Meadows was busy with people, mostly those along the route to the Grand Teton. Strings of guided groups, and small, independent climbing parties marched up and down the trail. It was fascinating to see the spectrum of people who were headed for the Teton Mountains' tallest mountain! Several fat marmots hovered nearby, watching us eat, obviously having successfully obtained food from humans before. We watched the now-gray clouds froth and fold high above us, and we listened to the distant sound of thunder.
After about 30 minutes of feasting, people-watching, marmot-avoiding, and resting, we headed back down the trail (Trail! Oh glorious trail, how I've missed you!) to the trailhead. Thunderstorms were now prevalent, and we were happy to feel sprinkles of refreshing rain here at the lower, warmer elevations. At about 4:15 pm, or just over 11 hours after beginning our journey, we arrived back to the trailhead.
We drove a short distance to a place called String Lake to swim, and to conclude our adventure. My sweetie fully-submerged himself, but the snow-melt water was way too cold for me. I waded in to my thighs, hoping to mimic a post-run ice bath.
In all honesty, the mental fatigue induced by being beyond my comfort zone for such a long time was much greater than the physical fatigue of a 16-ish mile, 6000 foot alpine peak ascent. I was simultaneously thrilled at our accomplishment and shell-shocked by mental fatigue! My sweetie and I went through a tremendous bonding experience, though. He worked very hard to teach me how to climb the mountain, and to keep me safe and motivated. I implicitly trusted him and his guidance as we accomplished our goal. At this point, just 24 hours after-the-fact, I have little desire to climb another mountain. However, I anticipate an attitude shift and I predict that there will be more mountain climbing in my future!
My sweetie took a bunch of pictures, so I intend to post some later this week.
Posted by Meghan at 4:57 PM | Comments (14)
August 16, 2007
Cross Country Season
Another cross country season has begun, and I'm thrilled to be again coaching my local high school's cross country teams. You might recall that this team is now the defending state champions in their class.
After just 4 days of practice, I'm confident that they are going to have another great season. They have arrived to the season in fine shape, and it's only going to get better from here.
We did this week's long run on a wide open trail in the early morning. The sun was low and dimmed to a golden orange by the thick Montana wildfire smoke that has permeated every nook and cranny of the wilderness. At one point, the trail contoured a hillside and I could see for a good distance both in front and in back of me. I stopped to watch my runners strung out along this hillside contour, lit up by the morning sun, all running very well. A singular emotion struck me quickly in this moment: pride.
Posted by Meghan at 9:06 PM | Comments (6)
August 14, 2007
Top Of The World...
...In both a literal and figurative sense.
Last weekend I ran the Bridger Ridge Run. I had a fabulous time running, hiking, scrambling, and scratching my way along the Bridger Ridge. "The Ridge," as locals call it, is the mostly-above-treeline-often-knife-like top of the Bridger Mountains, which extend north out of Bozeman, MT. The route is rugged and technical, moreso than any other running route I've seen before. To get a feel for what the world is like way up there, go here, click on clients, then click on events, then click on the movie image to watch a clip of a movie made from the 2003 race.
Pre-race:
The starting line is way out there, at a place called Fairy Lake. Fairy Lake is about 15 miles out of Bozeman on a paved road, then 7 miles up a windy, rock-jammed Forest Service dirt road. I find the logisitics of getting 250 runners out into the middle of the wilderness to begin a point-to-point course pretty fascinating. Somehow, it all worked and everyone was seemingly in place when the race started at 7 am.
Mile 0 to Mile 2.3:
The race begins with a 2.3 mile, 1800 foot climb from the Fairy Lake Trailhead to Sacagawea Peak, elevation 9665 feet. The route switchbacks happily up through a mostly treeless valley, topping out at a saddle seperating Sacagawea Peak to the south and another peak called Hardscrabble to the north. At the saddle, the race route turns south and heads for Sacagawea's summit. I hit the summit at 47 minutes.
Mile 2.3 to Mile 7.4:
Logic would tell you that once you climb upon the ridge, you get to stay there, right? Not quite. From the peak, the route contours the ridge for perhaps a mile before it performs a literal nosedive back off the ridge and into the trees again. Ross Mountain, the next mountain along the ridge, is impassable for foot travel. So, the trail dives about 2000 feet back off the ridge with perhaps just 1 or 2 real switchbacks to ease this alarming descent.
Many people made this and the other wild descents at miraculous rates of speed using either highly honed skills or reckless abandon. I possess neither the skills to blast such a technical descent (Though I sure desire those skills for when I return to this race next year!) nor the desire to flail uncontrolled off of a mountain (Especially after I saw a woman take a fall hard enough to remove multiple inches of skin surface area from multiple body parts.), so I picked and poked my way into the downward abyss.
After this giagantic and awesome tumble off the mountain, the trail contours nicely for several miles around the flanks of Ross Mountain and into Ross Pass, where the first aid station is located at mile 7.4. Ross Pass, elevation 7680 feet, was a welcoming, sunny, green, glowing meadow, containing an array of exuberant aid station workers. It seemed a nice place to linger, but I looked at the big climb ahead and moved on. I passed through Ross Pass at 1:47 into the race (59 minutes for this section of trail).
Mile 7.4 to Mile 10.6:
Once departing Ross Pass, the route climbs steeply and quickly, about 1000 feet in a half mile, back onto the ridge again. This hands-on-knees climb is an aggressive one, but it was over before I knew it. At this point, the ridge is gnarly with rocks, and it's just plain tough (for me) to move fast.
However, it wasn't long before I could hear the whooping and hollering of people at the second aid station, and that buoyed me along the rocks quite well. The second aid station was located at the top of the Bridger Bowl Ski Area, elevation about 8700 feet. Here in the wilderness, atop a big old mountain, about 100 people came out to cheer on the ridge runners! I was so excited to pass through this aid station that I forgot to hit my split timer.
Mile 10.6 to 15.6:
This was my favorite part of the course, as we hovered almost exclusively on the top of the ridge, the views were incredible, the runners around me were friendly and talkative, and much of this section was runnable. Here's a photo of this section of the course, approaching Saddle Peak, elevation 9169 feet, which was an amazing place. While I was there, the weather was beautiful and sunny. But it's obvious that Saddle Peak is normally a harsh place to be as there is no living thing up there, save for a few hardy lichens.
The next peak after Saddle Peak is Mount Baldy, elevation 8914 feet, the site of the third aid station. It was also a party of happy, cheering people on Baldy Mountain. I arrived here at 4:19 into the race (for a time of 2:32 from Mile 7.4 to 15.6). That's a seriously slow pace! What happened? Did I wander off course or take a little nap? Nah, I never stopped moving. Go figure.
Mile 15.6 to Mile 19.7 (Finish Line):
From the top of Mount Baldy, the trail takes another one of its infamous, abyssmal, downhill dives to the trailhead and finish line, located at about 4900 feet elevation. I spent these last 4 miles and 4000 foot descent either being passed by those miraculously fast downhill runners or passing those with blown out quad muscles.
From about 1000 vertical feet above the trailhead, I could see and hear the finish line, and it was a lovely sight. Now, to just scale down this crazy trail and get there! I happily crossed the finish line in 5:12, and was greeted by a boisterous crowd.
Post-Race:
This is a wonderful race. It's also a fascinating race that requires a unique skill set for fast completion. The men's winner set a new course record in 3:06:and change, breaking his own course record, and winning for something like his 8th or 9th straight time. He clearly has the skill set needed for this crazy course. I very much desire some better technical terrain skills, and I want to come back to this race with them next year.
I had just a bit of soreness in the days after the race, but not much. This is surprising, what with about 7000 feet elevation gain and 9000 feet elevation loss over 20 miles. However, I've been using Ultragen for recovery, and this stuff is truly worth its weight in gold.
Posted by Meghan at 9:50 PM | Comments (10)
August 4, 2007
Corner Turning?
Nah, probably not quite yet. A curve in the road distinct enough that it requires one of those yellow diamond signs telling you there is a curve ahead? Maybe, perhaps.
One of my summer bread-and-butter trail runs is a 6 mile single-track loop with about 1100-1200 feet elevation gain. My normal time for this loop last summer was 56-58 minutes. Up until 2 days ago, I hadn't yet cracked the 1 hour mark (by several minutes even) this summer. On Wednesday, I ran it comfortably in 58 minutes.
Today, I did a speed workout, an exact replica of the same speed workout I've done twice so far this summer. Both previous attempts at interval work were just plain sad. The workout is 5 x 1/2 mile with 2:00 jogging recovery. Today's workout went nicely, very nicely. I felt strong and solid, and my times reflected an notable increased fitness from the first two attempts.
I did the workout on the gravel road (barely) pictured below, the Old Yellowstone Trail. It seems I've gone around some bend in my training, perhaps as indistinct as the curve in this pictured road (It curves off to the right in the photo.). I'll take it!
Posted by Meghan at 1:49 AM | Comments (10)
August 1, 2007
A Close Call
Earlier this evening, my brother and his friend were driving to the Minnesota Twins game in downtown Minneapolis (My family lives in Minnesota.). They traveled through rush-hour traffic over the Interstate 35W bridge. Approximately 5 minutes later, the bridge collapsed, killing and injuring many people.
This was such a close call. Someone or something was watching over them, I'm sure, and I'm so greatful.
On a sad note, my heart goes out to the people who were less fortunate than my brother tonight.
Posted by Meghan at 11:40 PM | Comments (3)