Pine Ridge FKT

On Monday, July 20, I set out to run the Pine Ridge Trail in the Nebraska National Forest faster than anyone had ever run the trail. I was able to achieve that goal, but the day was much more than just a fast-ish run.

With most organized running events cancelled for the summer, I was interested in establishing or lowering a Fastest Known Time (FKT) somewhere near to our home. I had initially thought about establishing the FKT on the Homestead Trail between Lincoln and Beatrice, Nebraska. This trail appealed to me for a couple of reasons. At the time, Nebraska did not have any existing FKTs, and I was familiar with the trail from riding it with Tarah and Acadia a few years ago. While perusing the Fastest Known Time website, I noticed that someone set an FKT in western Nebraska and my interest shifted to the Pine Ridge Trail.

I started researching the trail, but couldn't find a lot of information online. I mapped the route and gathered a bit of beta from the route establishers. I knew it was going to be a hot run so I kept my eye on the weather and waited for the coolest day. The route is a point to point route so I needed to figure out transportation. I thought about having Tarah drive down with the kiddos and meet me at the far trailhead or stashing my bike at the far trailhead and pedaling back to my car. I decided since the trail was only 17.5 miles one way, I would just yo-yo (run the trail in both directions) the route since the trail was the most direct route between the two trailheads. I naively even thought that I might be able to yo-yo the trail in about the same time that it took the initial duo to do the trail oneway (5:19).

The day began with a 2:15 AM alarm and was in the car heading towards the Forest about 2:45. Shortly after sunrise, I arrived at the trailhead to discover that there wasn't a parking area. Luckily about a quarter mile down the road I found a picnic/camping area to park at. I got my gear finalized and then started to walk back to the trailhead.

At 6:37 I clicked my watch and started climbing the steep trail up a bluff. When I got to the top, I was treated to some beautiful views and some rolling prairies. Within the first mile, I discovered that despite there being a trail, there wasn't much of a path. The trail was marked by painted fence posts, but the trail was through thick tall grass growing on uneven ground. About a mile and half in, I crossed a fence and the trail turned to defined singletrack and I was able to really run. This clear path came with its own problem; the path often didn't follow the actual trail and I ended up going off course and needing to back track to the trail.

About five miles in the trail became so overgrown that I was routinely running through knee and hip-high brush that was sharp and full of ticks. The area had also burned in 2012 and there were tons of downed trees along the route. About 6 miles in I had my first real scare; I startled a doe and her fawn(s). I heard a loud hissing sound, like nothing I had ever heard before, and had no idea what it was until I saw the deer start bounding away. When my heart-rate slowed back down I kept trekking and pulling ticks and stickers off my legs.

At ten miles I thought my attempt was going to have to be aborted. I was running along the bottom of a canyon when I came upon some cattle. They kept trotting in front of me, but unbeknownst to me there was a fence at the end of the canyon. I had unwittingly herded dozens of angry cows into a natural and man-made corral that blocked the only way forward. I backed up and moved to the side, but the cattle were not going to get out of my way any time soon and wasn't about to try to move through the herd. I ended up scrambling up the canyon wall and skirting around the congestion and getting to a turnstile without too much trouble. Just on the other side of the fence, I ran into a wide creek and had to get my feet wet.

After the cows and creek it was a lot more wading through brush and hunting for trail markers. Eventually the trail climbed up and down a couple more bluffs and I was greeted with beautiful panoramas. The last mile or so was pretty clear but the trail was steep and loose so my pace was still hampered. I finally stopped my watch after four hours and 48 minutes, when I reached the Coffee Mill Trailhead.

Setting the FKT was only half of my planned outing, so after snapping a few pictures, I started hiking back the way I had come. I figured I would hike (walk) up the butte I had just run down and then start running again when the terrain leveled out. Though it was a little easier to see the trail in revers since I had just used it, it was still quite difficult to navigate. I did a bit of running but still was spending a bunch of time (and energy) route finding.

Probably about six into my return trip I lost the trail. I pulled the route up on my watch and headed in the right direction towards the trail but couldn't find any fence posts. I followed paths in the right direction but could never get on the actual trail. By this time I was running low on water and it was the hottest part of the day. I wasn't worried, but I was frustrated.

Eventually I decided to just move in the direction of the trailhead through the terrain that posed the least resistance. I ended up seeing a road in the distance and made my way along a fence line to the road. Thankfully when I reached the road, I had enough service to pull up Google Maps on my phone. I terrain finally allowed me to move more quickly, but I was now out of fluids so I was forced to slow down. If I stayed on the road, it would be 12 miles back to my car, but I could also just get to another trailhead that would allow me to shave some miles off.

A couple miles down the road I came to a house where I asked to refill my water. While I was explaining my adventure and chugging water, the home owner offered to have her husband give me a ride to the trailhead just down the road. I said that would be great but I didn't want to put them out. When her husband came in the house, he said that he'd gladly take me all the way to my car if I wanted. After 31 miles of less than ideal foot travel already completed for the day, I took him up on the offer.

It turned out that he grew up in Madrid (Nebraska) and had lived all over the country since, including Ogallala. We had a nice conversation and it was great to be covering ground more quickly, though the road conditions didn't allow for great speeds. When I got back to my car I changed my clothes and checked for more ticks. Hydrated and slightly cleaner, I bumped down the road to town where I got a burger, fries, and a malt from a local food stand. From there it was just a three hour drive home to a shower and a comfy bed.

Western States

My Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run Experience

In December of last year, I learned that I got into the original 100-mile foot race via lottery. I had two tickets in the lottery, which meant that I had less than a 3.5% chance of getting drawn. With my name on the entrants list, summer and spring plans were in place.

This was the first race that I actually trained for. I bought two-time Western States champion, Hal Koerner’s book and followed his training plan almost verbatim. The plan was twenty weeks which gave me January and part of February to take it easy, work on some nagging niggles, and do some extra strength training. In addition to Hal’s book, I also used some of the ideas from the Roche’s Happy Runner. The training plan kept me focused and gave me weekly goals to shoot for. It was nice to not have to think about what or how I was going to run and just follow the plan.

Since I have more responsibilities than just running and recovering, most of my days started with a 4:00AM alarm so that I could get my miles in before the kids were up and before school. Tarah was also training for a marathon at this time and making use of our treadmill, so this meant a lot of cold, dark runs.

Training was going swimmingly until April when I ended up with plantar fasciitis, at least that’s what I self-diagnosed. With a change in work footwear and a night splint, it seemed to mostly dissipate and was able to keep running. At the end of April, I raced a flat 50K (3:49) before hitting the meat of my training plan. Big weekends had me feeling fit and ready to roll.

May and early June were pretty uneventful with lots of miles and most Saturdays at our local state park so that I could get in trail miles. One weekend, I headed to Fort Collins to meet my volunteer requirement and met Kyle, a sponsored athlete who had three top-ten finishes at Western States (he got his fourth this year). We were able to run about 13 miles together after our volunteer shift and this gave me the confidence to really go hard at Western. That night I knocked out another 17 miles when the family went to bed.

Two weeks out and on my last long run, I slipped with a couple of miles to go and strained my right quad. It didn’t bother me for the end of my run, but the next day it was painful so I shut down my training. I knew I had the fitness and that we were going to be hiking quite a bit during our trip out to Squaw Valley. I ran few times and hiked a bunch carrying either Bryce or Acadia during our travels.

When we got to Squaw Valley on the Thursday before the race, we caught up with friends and took in the spectacle that is “Statesmas.” I did a short run Friday morning then cheered Tarah on in her 6K uphill challenge. I then finalized drop bags to access dry socks, fuel, extra bottles, headgear changes, and headlamps before getting briefed and enjoying some super expensive pizza for dinner.

I went to bed with an alarm set for 3:45AM so that I could be ready to run at 5:00AM. Of course I didn’t sleep very well, but I woke up rested and ready to start the run that had controlled a good portion of my life for six months.

Going into the race I had three tiered goals. My A Goal was to run twenty hours. My B Goal was to run sub-24 and earn a silver belt buckle. My C Goal was to finish.

The race starts with a monster climb to the top of the ski resort – 2,550 feet in four and a half miles. In addition to the hill, we also had to contend with miles of hard packed snow. After about an hour, I hit the top of the escarpment and started cruising in the snowy high country. When I topped out I was surrounded by a pack of elite female runners, but as the course leveled out, most of them put the hammer down and didn’t seem them until the next day at awards.

cruisin' some early miles

As I ran conservatively on the snow, I knew that my A Goal was likely off the table, but that was fine. I was feeling good and moving smoothly. I buzzed through the first couple of aid stations and decided not to change my shoes at mile 15.8. My first little hiccup occurred about 22 miles in when I needed to go to the bathroom. I pulled off the trail and found a spot to take care of business. I ended up losing a bit of time and was getting frustrated with being passed while I was at a stand still. Once I was back on the trail, I cruised into the first major aid station at Duncan Canyon a couple of miles down the trail.

Crossing Duncan Creek

Thanks to the volunteers, I was in and out of the Duncan super quick and ready for a descent and little dip in Duncan Creek before climbing up to Robinson Flat where I would get to see Tarah and the kids for the first time. The creek was a little deeper than I expected, but I made it across and climbed pretty steadily to an amazing aid station. I changed out my socks and hat, and grabbed some extra water bottles for the rest of the canyons. After having my physical needs addressed I ran down the road to see the family and give some quick hugs and kisses.

fresh sock and hat - ready for some hugs

love at 50K

Unbeknownst to me at the time, this is where my race came undone. With my heart full from seeing my family and the downhill nature of the course I ran every step of the next ~16 miles to the Middle Fork American River before the climb to Devil’s Thumb. Thanks to beta from a friend I took my time cooling off in the river before slogging up the climb to the next aid station. My enthusiasm in this section and the subsequent descent to El Dorado Creek would end up being my demise as I blew out my quads barreling downhill.

On my climb up to Devil’s Thumb, I started having some bladder issues not unlike what I experienced at Never Summer 100K last summer. I had a reoccurring urge to pee and would stop and relieve myself, but only pee a little amount. My urine was still light colored so I knew I wasn’t getting dehydrated but it was super frustrating to have to stop every few minutes to pee. I eventually made it up to the aid station and checked in with medical and they didn’t have any concerns or suggestions. I ate and drank some more then dropped down to El Dorado Creek and climbed up to Michigan Bluff where I would see the family again.

I passed quite a few runners on my way into Michigan Bluff and fed off of the energy of the crowd to keep my momentum going. I once again left the aid station with a full heart and prepared to keep rolling. I knew that I would see family again in about an hour at Foresthill and just kept running and walking as the course permitted.

Michigan Bluff aid station

I hit Foresthill at about an hour under 24-hour pace and was still feeling good. My 13:19 split is a 100K PR and didn’t really see why I couldn’t continue to keep moving smoothly. Upon getting out of town, I sat down and dumped my shoes out then kept moseying down the trail.

My pace was really beginning to fall off and my legs were aching as I continued to work my way closer to the finish. I took time at a couple of aid stations to try and massage my quads and roll them out using duct tape and water bottles, but it wasn’t very helpful. As I was doing the math in my head I knew that sub-24 was going to be unlikely, but I was hopeful I could bounce back.

On the section down to the Rucky Chucky River, I started chanting, “Get to the f-----g river,” and forced myself to move as quickly as possible. I wasn’t setting any speed records, but I was moving well enough to get back on track. At the river, I heard someone ask about sub-24 and a volunteer said if you power hike the ups and run the rollers it was still possible. I climbed into the raft and prepared to conquer the final 22 miles.

Still hanging on to a sliver of hope for a sub-24

on the far side

On the far side of the river, I changed socks for the last time and grabbed my music. The next section was a solid climb on a dirt road and I “ran” the entire two miles to the top; I was on a mission. Unfortunately that mission was quickly derailed at the Green Gate aid station at the top of the climb.  I had my only sub-par experience with volunteers at this aid station, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time. I had water and fuel in my pack so I didn’t really need much, but not a single volunteer acknowledged me at the aid station and I ended up leaving the aid station with twenty miles to go and just barely on 24 hour pace with a bad attitude.

I knew the final push of the race broken into very manageable chunks by numerous aid stations and just tried to focus on getting to each aid station with the tiny steps that my legs were allowing me to take. The uphill sections were still my best sections, but unfortunately the majority of the remaining course was downhill which was excruciatingly painful with blown quads.

To help understand what I mean by blown quads, do a wall sit to exhaustion (a couple of minutes) then instead of sliding to the ground or standing back up, stay in that position for a few hours. That is what my final hours felt like.

Despite my physical discomfort and the agony of continually being passed by runners and their pacers, I knew that I had plenty of time to finish and ultimately that’s what I came to California to do. As my pace slowed, I cursed Gordy and his lame horse, but I kept moving forward.

After the race, a friend asked what kept me going. Part of it was my desire to complete an audacious task, but mostly it was the fact that I knew others were watching. I didn’t want to let anyone else down. Although Acadia and Bryce are too young to understand now, they won’t always be and I want them to know that their dad didn’t give up. As a teacher, I always ask my students to do things that they think are difficult and to keep trying to find a solution or complete a task; I couldn’t do that in the future if I DNFed just because my race wasn’t going how thought it should. That said, I totally understand now how and why “racers” as opposed to “runners” DNF; those miles at the end were horrible. If I came to an event to race (not to run or to finish, to race) and was reduced to a shuffle and couldn’t achieve the goal that I set out to accomplish I would call it a day and start preparing for another event.

Nearly two hours after leaving Green Gate, I finally rolled into Auburn Lakes aid station where I grabbed my final drop bag and picked up my second headlamp just to be safe. If all had gone flawlessly, I would have been in Auburn by this time and able to go to bed, but instead I still had 15 miles to cover and I knew it was going to take quite some time. With my backup light stowed it was time to keep moving forward.

The next aid station would bring me to within single digit miles of the track at Placer High, but that section was my slowest of the day and it seemed like I would never get there. I finally made it to Quarry Road and ate a quesadilla and hoped that I would rally with the sunrise nearing. The next section was a bit of a climb up a dirt road and I was able to power hike pretty well. I passed a couple of runners and their pacers and was thinking that I had turned a corner, 24 hours after I started. Unfortunately the road gave way to technical trail and I lost my momentum.

At the next aid station, I put some icy hot on my quads hoping to make the remaining miles a little less miserable, but it didn’t seem to have any effect. At this aid station, a spectator made a comment about being 95% finished, which had me feeling a bit of relief, but which wasn’t entirely true since we were at mile 94.3 of 100.2. I didn’t see the sign with exact mileage and lost a bit of mileage on my watch in the canyons so I didn’t realize until No Hands Bridge was taking forever to materialize that I was actually only 94% finished at Pointed Rocks aid station.

In the final miles, I ran/hiked backwards when the trail conditions allowed as that put much less stress on my quads, but most of the trail was too technical to make use of that strategy very often.

Eventually I made it to the fabled No Hands Bridge and three miles to go. I ate an Oreo and shuffled across the bridge and admired the beauty of the place that I was moving through.

Two miles later I was at the final aid station and it was a mile of pavement to the track and the finish line. I continued to make my best time on the ups and hurt the most on the downs. I passed a couple of runners near Robie Point, but was passed by 11 runners in the final mile down to the track.

I had imagined what it would be like to run the final meters on the track, ever since my name was drawn back in December, but it was nothing like that. I thought that I would run to just before the finish line then pick up Bryce and run across the line with Tarah and Acadia at my side. That did not happen. Acadia was in a funk and wouldn’t run and my hurt so much I couldn’t even jog. I managed a smile as I walked across the line, but I wasn’t as overcome with emotion as I was after my first few ultras.

I made it to Auburn

I accepted an ice-cold water bottle and my medal then shuffled to the medical tent to put my legs up and lay down for a bit. I was content, but sure that I was done with the distance and not really sure what the big deal about Western States was. I understood the history of the race and the recent über competitiveness of the field, but as a mid to back of the packer, I wasn’t overly impressed by the course or the event. I have been fortunate to run in some truly spectacular places around the US and Central America and I am not sure that the Western States Trail is one of those places. Save for Green Gate, the volunteers were awesome, but not any more so than the volunteers at other trail races. I’m sure this is a bit of sour grapes, as I didn’t have the race that I hoped for, but it seems that greatness of Western States is exaggerated.

laying in the shade

After some delicious breakfast, the longest, hottest awards ceremony ever, and some good conversations, we left Placer High and headed to the hotel. I watched some soccer ate some super tasty tacos and burritos and started researching Vermont 100.

Despite the relative suffering of the last 30 to 35 miles and my initial denouncement of the distance, I quickly realized that I need to run another hundred miler. I did not run to my potential. I know that I can run faster.

Stepping back, I know that my race actually went really well, especially for a distance debut. I did not have stomach issues. I did not have foot issues. The sleep monsters did not attack. I did not chafe. My gear was dialed.

In the future I will measure my training in hours instead of miles. This would allow me to focus on race specific training as opposed to pure fitness. I would have benefitted from more time hiking at 15% to 20% grade on the treadmill and hammering downhill repeats, but with daily and weekly mileage goals staring me in the face and a busy schedule, I couldn’t be bothered with too many slow miles. I will also use my plan as a guide as opposed to an end all be all. I like to run commute, join social runs, and take impromptu stroller runs, but I felt like I needed to follow my plan to a T, and I probably did for my first hundred.

Thank you, Tarah, for supporting my crazy ideas and letting me run for hours on end.

Thank you, Acadia and Bryce, for inspiring me to be my best and making me stronger by letting me push you the stroller, pull you in the bike trailer, and carry you in the backpack.

Thank you volunteers for making my and everyone else’s race possible.

Up and Around and Back Again! [NM & CO]

32 days. 32 crazy days full of adventure, of pushing limits, of exploring new places, of living life to the fullest. 32 days alongside my mister with no expectations other than to get in there. Our summer was cut in half because of grad school commitments, but we made up for that once we were able to hit the road.

We finished up a course in the History and Philosophy of Education on June 26 and were on the road by 9AM on the 27th. There was no holding us back. We had places to be (well, not really, but the idea of taking seven days to make it to Nebraska as opposed to one was too much to ask for) and sights that we wanted to see on our way there.

Our road trip began with a visit to Aztec Ruins National Monument in northern New Mexico. We learned that these ruins are neither of the Aztec persuasion, nor are they considered ruins by the Puebloan people or the Navajo who later inhabited the area. Rather, they are a home to the spirits of those who once lived there. Shortly thereafter we crossed the state line and said good-bye to New Mexico and hello to colorful Colorado.

Aztec Ruins National Monument

We buzzed through Durango and picked up a couple of things at the visitor center (and checked to make sure we weren't going to encounter any road closures due to fire) before heading north to Silverton. The sights were amazing - forests and water seem to be in abundance as soon as you leave New Mexico and we soaked it in. 

At one mountain pass we couldn't take it any longer and climbed out of the car to enjoy an overlook. That overlook led us to a trail, which led us to an exploration of trails leading up Engineer Mountain, through wildflowers taller than Chris, and eventually into afternoon thunderstorms. Having spent plenty of time in storms, we decided to turn around when we saw our first bolt of lightning in the distance and got in some trail running on our way back to the car.

Tarah Running

Chris Running (This one is especially great if you zoom in!)

We made it off of the mountain safely and then drove into Silverton. We wandered around town and checked out the train depot before heading into the national forest for some free camping. We ended day one of 32 with cans of beans and some bread followed by a sunset hike up to a high meadow lake. We crossed over rivers, found ourselves embraced in a warm red light that covered the mountain after the sun went down, and eventually found our way back to our trusty tent.

Red-tinted Skies in Colorado

The next morning we worked our way north on the million dollar highway between Silverton and Ouray. It was incredible (especially at 7AM when hardly anyone was on the road). We stopped at a small pullout before Ouray and were blessed with the sight of a majestic waterfall that we didn't even know that we had crossed over. A little further down the road we pulled over for good to try our hand at high altitude hiking on the Bear Creek National Scenic Trail.

Rim Hiking on Bear Creek Trail

Rock Hopping on Bear Creek Trail

We picked our way through shale fields as we made a quick ascent, and then we kept right on climbing. I pushed as hard as I could and still my feet did not want to leave the ground. As we wound our way along cliffside trails we were granted more views of the previously mentioned waterfall, the river that it came from, and the mountain streams that fed into that river. We passed old mining camps, rock hopped across some streams, encountered a porcupine eating lunch, and continued climbing until we lost the trail about a mile before coming out at Engineer Pass. Feeling exhausted, I did not have the energy to search for the trail and so we turned around and made our way down. Each step was remarkably easier than the previous and it felt like a weight was being lifted off of my shoulders (or lungs, rather). 

Grizzly Bear Mine (Bear Creek Trail)

After returning to the car we drove through Ouray and made our way further north to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. We drove around the canyon rim and admired the beauty of nature. We paid for a night of camping in the park so that we could get an early start on a hike down into the canyon. The next morning we got our early start, but the descent freaked me out a little (okay, a lot), so we turned back and did a more moderate hike on top of the canyon before heading east toward Grand Junction and Colorado National Monument.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison

We were unsure of what to expect of Colorado National Monument, but we were pleasantly surprised. From the forests of the Rocky Mountains we found ourselves thrust back into our desert landscape. The red rocks had me in awe, and then I realized that we live amongst the same types of formations. We hiked the old monument road, the serpent trail, which was once one of the curviest roads in the United States. We drove along the park road and observed a canyon that was vastly different from that which we had been at in the morning. Instead of dark striated rock, we had a painted desert of rich reds, golds, and oranges in front of us. Monuments reached for the sky and we roasted under the sun. That night we hiked to the base of one of the monuments and camped out under the stars (and a couple of climbers that had begun their ascent of the monument at dusk). With the exception of some noisy night hikers that came through the trail junction in the middle of the night, we had a peaceful desert sleep.

Our Camp Was Surrounded By Monuments

The following morning we drove east to Boulder where we got some much needed sibling time. We stayed with Sarah and James for a couple of nights and spent our time in town exploring trails, eating good food, and observing the oddities that exist on Pearl Street. We made it to Chataqua Municipal Park where we climbed Green Mountain (a goal of Chris's for the summer trip) and did a little more trail running.

Wildflowers Were Abundant 

Our Colorado visit ended with a trip to Red Rocks Amphitheater and Dinosaur Ridge. Both places were incredible for different reasons. We hiked around, took in the sights, and learned a little more about the geological and archeological history of the area. In the early afternoon we had to call our short stay to an end and we drove north into Nebraska where the next phase of our summer adventure took place.

Moab's Red Hot 55K

Last weekend, Tarah and I took advantage of a semi-long weekend (no classes on Monday, but parent/teacher conferences) to head up to Moab for some racing and hiking. We would have preferred to be in sunny Florida or Nicaragua for the weekend, but Moab was still a great escape.

We made the four and a half hour drive on Friday after school and got to our super nice hotel (no really) about 9:00. The race didn't begin until 8:00 the next morning, but I needed to pick up my packet closer to 6:45 so we were up early by most people's standards, but for us it meant sleeping in about an hour later than normal. So after a delicious hot breakfast at the hotel we headed to the trailhead and race start just outside of Arches and Canyonlands National Parks.

While we were waiting around for the start we met a couple from Colorado and chatted them up for a bit and Tarah ended up hiking with the Maggie in Arches while us guys "raced" (well, Daniel raced to seventh place, I survived). 

The race started and I had again positioned myself way too far back in the pack. As we started our ascent up the the mesa I quickly passed people and settled into a nice pace. The weather was perfect and the course was beautiful. I cruised along the trails at a nice clip until the second aid station at around 13 miles. I hit the half marathon point in a little over 2 hours, shooting for a sub-six finishing time and then my race fell apart.

My shin/IT band/knee hadn't been feeling great leading up to the race, but I had rested and I felt great for the first third of the race, but the last 20+ miles were horrible. Every other step was excruciating, it felt like someone was putting a knife in my knee. On any terrain that was flat or downhill I couldn't manage much more than a hobbling shuffle, however anytime the course went up hill my leg didn't bother me and I could climb like a champ. At the first onset of the pain I tried some yoga breathing to try and alleviate the discomfort and that seemed to help, though it may have just been that I focusing so much on my controlled breathing that I wasn't focussing as much on the pain. I stopped a few times to massage my calf and shin and do some stretching (I'm sure some runners were shocked to come around a corner and see me standing on one foot hugging my leg into my chest), but it was all to no avail.

I contemplated dropping, but I didn't have anything better to do than hike in a truly incredible setting, so I soldiered on. At about a marathon, we hit a rolling section of trail and I yo-yoed with few runners blowing past them on the climbs and getting passed on the descents. Every time someone huffed and puffed past me I wanted to shout "But I'm not even tired, and my legs feel great, I just can't bend my knee." It was really frustrating to be passed by runners that I knew I was better than, but I knew it wasn't meant to be that day. Perhaps February just isn't my month for ultras.

With about a mile to go I finished the final climb of the day and a course marshall, trying to be optimistic, told me it was all downhill to the finish and I cringed. I ended up passing at least one other runner in that section and was meet by Tarah a few hundred feet from the finish line. About seven and half hours after I started I crossed the finish line.

We hung out at the finish for awards, I ate some soup, drank some cola, and talked to Dakota a bit about the race he's directing in the San Juan Mountains. We caught a shuttle to the car, went back to the hotel to clean up a bit, ate delicious pizza and calzones at Eddie McStiff's, and then relaxed in the hot tub with about ten barely supervised kiddos.

The next day I ate a huge breakfast (eggs, gourmet salsa, hash browns, sausage gravy, bacon, sausage, french toast,  and hot chocolate - seriously, when in Moab stay at Aarchway Inn), Tarah ate a good breakfast and we headed to Arches National Park for a little hiking. The area around Gallup is pretty beautiful, but Moab is absolutely gorgeous. We hiked around in Devil's Garden and I decided to do my hiking barefoot, despite the freezing temperatures and snowy/icy trails. Other than a few areas of sharp, crusty ice the walk was great, and the expressions on people's faces and their comments when they thought we were out of earshot were awesome. We ended up taking the primitive trail back from Double O Arch and Tarah got her cardio workout in on some fear-inducing sections. On one particularly sketchy spot that Tarah had thankfully already traversed, I did a semi-controlled fall/slide on the slick rock down to the trail about twenty below. If Tarah had been behind me, we probably would have had to call in a helicopter to get us since we had another super sketchy section behind us. I came out unscathed and we finished our adventure as the trails were starting to fill up.

We're looking forward to getting back to Moab during the first part of our spring break in April before heading to the mountains outside of ABQ for another ultra.

The view at the start

Finishing up

Trailhead and trail guardians

Barefootin' it

Probably the second most famous arch in the park - Landscape Arch

Fair warning

Feeling great going up

At Black Arch overlook

The primitive trail

Heading back to the car

twenty twelve running recap

Last year I set a goal of running 300+ hours from January 1 to December 31, but unfortunately I didn't come anywhere close to that number. Apparently moving to a new country, becoming a teacher and starting graduate school take a lot of time and energy.

Despite not logging as many hours as I had hoped, I logged a bunch of very awesome hours, in a bunch very awesome places, with a bunch of very awesome people.

In 2012, I ran in the jungles of Costa Rica and Nicaragua, I climbed (and descended) two volcanoes on Isla Ometepe, I ran to and from a not so nearby village in the campo to raise funds for disaster relief, I ran to the highest point of Costa Rica (12,533 ft.) (and some other nearby peaks), I ran a 50 miler in our tico county two days before saying hasta luego al pais y nuestos amigos, I ran in the deserts of New Mexico, the forests of North Carolina, and the streets of my home town, I ran in Rocky Mountain National Park, I ran "A Real Mountain Race" put on by a legend, I ran into the pages of TrailRunner magazine, I ran my first half-marathon(s), I ran on roads, I ran on "roads," I ran on trails, I ran on "trails," I ran in cow pastures, I ran in brutal heat, I ran in freezing temperatures, I ran in sun, rain, and snow, I ran at dawn and at dusk, I ran with Ticos, Nicas y gringos, I ran with new friends and old friends, I ran with my wife, I ran alone.

In 2013, I don't have a long-term goal, but I want to complete my first hundred mile race, and quite possibly a 24 hour run, I want to traverse Petrified Forest National Park, I want to run up and down the highest point in Gallup (~3 miles with 900' of climb) in under 30 minutes (36:39 is my current best), I want to continue to explore new places and meet new people.

Running in the High Desert

One week later

2012 Book Blog

2012 was an interesting one for books. The year started with some great reads in both English and Spanish and then surprisingly our free reading time became almost non-existant as books for grad school were thrown at us as well as all of the delightful stories that get put into the mix as elementary school teachers. We did squeeze out a few pleasurable reads after the school year began, but the book consumption rates that we enjoyed while living in Costa Rica are no longer.         Chris threw himself at Vonnegut whenever he had a spare moment and we perused the bookshelves at Goodwill to pick up anything that wasn't already in our collection. That being said, his favorite read of the year was not by Vonnegut but instead by McDougall. His number one for 2012 was Born to Run. In my attempt to escape from our grad school readings I got sucked into The Hunger Games after our professor let me borrow them. I also revisited numerous old favorites and found some treasures on our own bookshelves that had been rescued from numerous yard sales over the summer and then forgotten about. My favorite read of the year though came from the Peace Corps library - Worldwalk topped my list in 2012. A summary of what was read:  Non-fiction: 13 (Chris - 12, Tarah - 9) Spanish: 11 (Chris - 5, Tarah - 9) Fiction (English only): 26 (Chris - 15, Tarah - 17) Total Books Read: 50 (Chris - 32, Tarah - 35)    And the list:                          The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven - Alexie (C&T)

Lorna Doone - Blackmore (T)

Educational Foundations** - Canestrati (C&T)

Maggie, Una Chica de la Calle* - Crane (T&C)

Catching Fire - Collins (T)

The Hunger Games - Collins (T)

Mockingjay - Collins (T)

The Witches - Dahl (T)

El Dia de la Venganza* - Daniels (T)

Robinson Crusoe - Defoe (C&T)

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao - Díaz (C&T)

Captivating** - Eldridge (T)

El Gran Gatsby* - Fitzgerald (C&T)

First on the Rope - Frison-Roche (C)

Hoja de Aire* - Gutierrez (C)

A Farewell to Arms - Hemingway (C)

The Murder Room - James (T)

The Dharma Bums - Kerouac (C&T)

Fear and Trembling - Kierkegaard (C)

Prodigal Summer - Kingsolver (T)

Where Men Win Glory **- Krakauer (C&T)

A Sand County Almanac** - Leopold (C&T)

Mere Christianity** - Lewis (T&C)

Call of the Wild - London (C)

Young Men and Fire** - Maclean (C)

Siempre dama de honor* - Marsh (T)

Dynamic Social Studies for the Constructivist Classroom** - Maxim (T&C)

Atrapados en el Ayer* - McCusker (T)

Born to Run** - McDougall (T&C)

Un Magnate Aventurero* - McMahon (T)

Moby Dick - Melville (C)

Worldwalk** - Newman (C&T)

Cuentos de amor, de locura y de muerte* - Quiroga (C)

Limon Blues* - Rossi (T)

The Catcher in the Rye - Salinger (C&T)

The Bookseller of Kabul** - Seierstad (T&C)

Juevos Verdes con Jamon* - Seuss (C&T)

The Confusion - Stephenson (T)

Quicksilver - Stephenson (T)

Tormenta Silenciosa* - Stevens (T)

Ana Karenina - Tolstoy (T)

Language Arts: Patterns of Practice** - Tompkins (T&C)

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer - Twain (C&T)

The Indian Frontier of the American West 1846-1890** - Utley (C)

Breakfast of Champions - Vonnegut Jr. (C&T)

Cat's Cradle - Vonnegut (C)  Deadeye Dick - Vonnegut (C)

God Bless You Mr. Rosewater - Vonnegut (C)  Hocus Pocus - Vonnegut (C)

Teaching in the Real World** - Zukergood (C&T)

* Spanish

** Nonfiction