Looking Forward

I just reread my 2017 year in review and goals for 2018 posts and had to chuckle. As usual, this year didn't turn out nearly the way I had planned. As I said in my last post, I'm not going to go through goal by goal and decide if I succeeded or failed, or half-assed that particular thing. It's not even worth it. 

I was thinking about future 2019 goals during my run this morning. I don't think I'm going to set any that are too specific. Don't get me wrong - I have my list of 40 things (see post) that I'm hopefully going to accomplish. On top of that, I got my dumb ass involved in a pull up contest. Somehow, I'm going to do 40 pull ups, in a row, unbroken, by my 40th birthday. Or try, anyway. But I'm not going to say how many miles I'm going to run, or how many days I'm going to ride my bike to work... 

I will end up accomplishing my running miles goal for 2018. I have about 5 miles to go and 8 days to do them. That should not be a problem. Thing is, I didn't really like having that goal. By December, all I wanted was to take time off from running and let my body (and mind) relax. I wanted to ride my bike (even if it is on the trainer) and I wanted to go climbing. I didn't want the pressure of seeing that stupid number on Strava and thinking I may not make it, which in turn would piss me off.  I even went so far as to lower my goal by 50 miles, only to realize I was going to get the original total without trying too hard. 

My biking miles goal has been laughable this year. I quit looking at it, not to mention trying to accomplish it, months ago. I don't want that for next year. I have too many other things I want to do. That whole list, like I said. If I accomplish the things on that list, I will accomplish plenty of milestones without having to call them out individually. 

So. Few actual goals for next year. Just a list of experiences. I bet by next December, I'll be sick and tired of not having any goals.

2018...

I had an entertaining conversation with my favorite trail sister (and one of my best friends) the other morning while we were out running. We were talking about how much we are looking forward to 2019 and what a great year it's going to be when I mentioned that 2018 sucked. Wow, did I get called out on that one, and boy is she right. Lydia immediately asked how, exactly, 2018 had sucked... And I couldn't actually answer her. Thank goodness for friends that keep you honest and put things into prospective for you! 

I had big dreams and high hopes for 2018, and some of them materialized and others didn't. Nothing ACTUALLY sucked, though. 

I'm not going to go through my list of goals one by one and lament over whether or not I accomplished each one individually. There's no point, really. I will say this, though: I ran a lot, had some of the best races of my life, and also some of the worst. I guess you just don't get the good without the bad. I had a race experience I will never forget (another post for another day), and another I WOULD rather forget. I'm left, however, with a peace and a sense of belonging for my races next year that I never thought imaginable. I survived uninjured, for the most part. And feeling pretty good about my running. 

Oh. And I (well, my husband and I, didn't do this one by myself) got a new kitchen. As in, gutted what we had and started fresh. And it's the kitchen of my dreams. It's been finished for over a month now, and I'm still pinching myself every time I cook in it, wondering when in hell I have to leave and go back to my old shitty one. Okay. It was a royal pain in the ass while it was being installed. I've never actually gotten sick of eating out before. But man.... 

I’ve skied, I’ve camped,I've gone cool places and seen cool things, I’ve ridden my bike, I’ve run, I’ve climbed, I’ve laughed and I’ve cried. I’ve thrown parties, gone out with friends, and I’ve gotten to go hang out with my family.

At the end of it all, it was a year that truly did not suck. And I am SO grateful for the experiences I‘ve gotten to have and the people I’ve met... 

Here’s to 2019!

Cheers!🍻

The 40 Things...

Well, here it is. My list of things I want to do, accomplish, or experience in 2019. I’ve tried to keep it realistic and attainable, not necessarily wildly crazy things that are nothing but pipe dreams. I’m not trying to climb Everest this year. Or ever, really, but you get the idea. Some of these things I’ve done before and want to do again, some of them are new... 

Here they are, in no particular order:

[]1. Leadville Trail 100

[]2. Volunteer at race(s)

[]3. Canvass and Cocktails

[]4. Take a photo safari (or a weekend, anyway)

[]5. Take a solo camping trip

[]6. Climb Playing Hooky

[]7. Take Pivot for a hike

[]8. Go backpacking 

[]9. Go for a night run

[]10. Rent an RV for a weekend

[]11. Do a long-ish gravel ride. Doesn’t have to be organized. 

[]12. Have dinner at The Fort. Or The Buckhorn Exchange. 

[]13. Scramble one of the Flatirons

[]14. Have a picnic at Wash Park

[]15. Run a 14er

[]16. Spend a whole day snowshoeing 

[]17. Go white water rafting

[]18. ACTUALLY take a Lyft/Uber ride

[]19. Go day drinking on the train

[]20. Finally try cross country skiing 

[]21. Have a hot dog from the stand at Home Depot

[]22. Sleep under the stars

[]23. Spend 40 nights camping 

[]24. Midget Wrestling 

[]25. Spend a day SUP-ing

[]26. Ski a double black. On purpose. 

[]27. Go bouldering. Outside. 

[]28. Have a girls' cocktail night

[]29. Leave the country

[]30. Do an Irish car bomb....

[]31. Drink whiskey by a campfire

[]32. Take the Jeep offroad. Drive some of it. 

[]33. Ride the fat bike. In the winter. On snow. 

[]34. Go ice skating outside 

[]35. Find Zapata Lake

[]36. Go to the PBR rodeo

[]37. Brew cider

[]38. Go swimming in a river. Try not to scream about how cold it is. 

[]39. Run to work. With all my shit on my back. 

[]40. Ski in July. Or at least June. 

I'm calling it #the40yearsproject. Follow along!

40 Things for my 40th Year

I turn 40 in 2019. It weighs on my mind, and it doesn’t. Turning 30 somehow seemed like a MUCH bigger deal. Funny how life and time puts both into perspective. I’m actually kinda excited about that whole thing. It’s an opportunity. I’m old enough to know better, young enough to not care...

When I was a senior in high school, one of my final exams was to write a list of 100 things I wanted to do before I die. I wrote one, aced it, and continued to add to it for a few years. I still have that list. I find it every now and again and chuckle at the things that I wrote then, and how I feel about them now.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about things I’d like to do, goals I’d like to accomplish, experiences I'd like to have. What I want to be remembered for, all that sappy bullshit that’s way more important than anyone wants to admit.  

So. I’m going to come up with a list. Forty things I want to experience or accomplish in the year I turn forty. Nothing necessarily life-altering, not necessarily hard, just things I’ve always wanted to do and haven’t quite gotten around to. Or things that I've done in the past and always meant to repeat. Besides, I’m a list maker. There’s something super satisfying about accomplishing goals and checking them off. 

I guess goal number one will be to come up with this list. Tune in soon, and follow along in my shenanigans. It’ll be fun! 

Kitchen Tribulations

We're getting our kitchen remodeled. It's going to be beautiful. Just as SOON as its finished... 

I looked the other day. It was April when we started looking into what it would take to get into this mess. That was six months ago. 

We met with contractors, we met with kitchen design people, we made our decisions, and we started buying all the things. 

We also told the contractors we would do our own demo, just to save some cash. 

Long story short, our house has been a disaster for months. 18+ boxes on cabinets hanging out in the hallway, the 8' x 3', 400 lb. butcher block counter top in the hallway, all the plates, pots, and pans out of the kitchen cabinets in boxes in the spare bedroom. 

I'm grateful for the mess. I'm grateful for the mess. I'm grateful for the mess.... That's become my mantra.  It's such a first world problem. Not even a problem, really. More of an annoying inconvenience. 

It's going to be beautiful when it's finished. And I've learned a few things along the way:

We have the best friends. EVER. They came to help lift that countertop up and into our house. 

Bathroom windowsills make excellent drying racks.

Boxes are awesome cabinets. And pantry. And storage. 

They also make great cat trees. 

The grill doubles as a toaster. Grilled bagels and smoked salmon FTW!

Soon enough, this whole mess will be over. Still can't wait. Bring on the kitchen warming party!!!!  ...AFTER I figure out how to make flan in the new oven.

Bike Lovin'

I fell in love with my bike again this week. 

It was my friends birthday trip and his goal was to ride his way across Colorado. He invited us along and promised I'd have plenty of places to run. It sounded like fun, so we agreed to tag along for the days we were off. 

I haven't actually liked my bike in a long time. Like five years a long time. Maybe closer to six. But, it was one of my best friend's birthdays, so I figured I'd say least ride one or two of the three days we had with the group. 

I packed three biking kits and two sets of running clothes. I was mildly worried that I hadn't packed enough running clothes. 

I don't have any idea what happened. Maybe it had to do with being somewhere beautiful. Maybe it had to do with good company. It certainly didn't have a damned thing to do with feeling good on the bike, because, frankly, I felt like absolute shit this first few miles. We were riding in Black Canyon of the Gunnison, more specifically, up the road that led there, and it was straight uphill out of the gate. Ugh. THAT was one of the better mindfucks I've had in a long time. 

Here I am, thinking I'm hot shit because I've been running all summer, thinking that a few thousand vertical on the bike should be no problem... Ha. Was I wrong. 

In any case. I made it up the climb and into the actual park. I'd never biked a national park before. I LOVED it. We ended up going about the same speed as the cars, but for once it didn't feel totally lame to stop at most of the overlooks. At least we were riding bikes in between, not just starting and stopping a car every four and a half minutes...

Not gonna lie. I enjoyed every second of that ride. Well, at the top at least. And the descent was something to behold. The crosswinds were something else. And for the first time in my life I wasn't scared. I mean, it wasn't the most fun I've ever had. But I made it back to the car without squealing like a banshee.

The next day, it didn't even occur to me that I shouldn't ride my bike again. I mean, I still had another day after that to run, and that was all I had intended, one run in three days. It's my buddy's birthday trip, he wants to ride, I'm gonna ride. 

The start of day two was way more pleasant than the first. Everyone still took off ahead of me, and, frankly, I was kinda pissy about it. Kindly, my husband waited for me and rode with me for a bit. 

He wanted to go father than I did that day, and I finally told him to go on and I'd just turn around when he caught back up to me after he'd turned around. 

Of course, I regretted that decision as soon as it was out of my mouth. In true Matt fashion, he'd taken off like a bat out of hell. He knows me, you see. He knows that if I have more than thirty seconds to think about choices like that that I make that I'll change my mind. 

Well, he was right. I almost yelled for him to come back. Then I looked around at the beauty around me. And I made the choice to enjoy my day. 

Boy did I. We were on the north, less traveled side of the Black Canyon, the Black Mesa. The absolute gorgeous that was the scenery took my breath away. It was a completely different perspective than I'd ever experienced before. And some how, some way, I started loving my bike again. I started focusing on the amazing places it can take me, somewhere between the speed of driving a car and the slowness of running. 

That may have been one of the best days in a long time for me. Somewhere along the line I freed myself of the anti bike attitude I've developed over the past few years, like enjoying my bike was somehow wrong. I finally let myself relax enough on the bike to really enjoy it. And it was awesome. 

Needless to say, I really didn't think twice about riding for a third day in a row... Good thing I brought three kits!

Race Dreamin’

What a satisfying feeling. I'm sitting here, finished with my race, beer in my hand, watching what's left of the field come in. For once, I did better than I thought I could. For once, there was beer left when I finished. For once, I had a dream race. 

Zero Achilles issues. Zero plantar issues. Zero nausea issues. Zero dark places in my head. Zero of the predicted thunderstorms.  Just perfect weather and amazing company around me. 

Pre-Race Obligatory Selfie

I wrote those two paragraphs sitting on a curb in Leadville following this year's marathon. The last time I attempted that race, I was unceremoniously ATV'ed off the mountain after puking my guts out for miles on the way up the hill. 

That year, it ruined everything. I was signed up for the Leadwoman competition, a crazy series of races that included the coveted Leadville Trail 100s - both the mountain bike AND the run. And my god I wanted that run. That was the whole reason I signed up for the series. Besides, I also wanted to do the Silver Rush 50, so I was actually saving myself some cash by doing the whole thing. And the bike ride wouldn't be all that bad, I ride a bike every now and then....

I figured out I was allowed to continue each event, and I didn't ACTUALLY have to finish any of them at long as I started them all. The Silver Rush was a finish, including a great prize for being female DFL, but that's another story for another post. The infamous bike ride was fun, but I quite willingly quit at mile 28 and decided to just go drink beer and watch my friends finish. After all, I had a 10K to run the next day, and a 100 miler the following week......

Long story short, I got to that run I wanted so badly, and I felt amazing on race day... Until mile 23 or so. Until the lovely plantar fasciitis reared its ugly head. I'd made it the first two crew points on schedule, unheard of for me. Then came the lightning bolts through my arches. 

I walked the last eight or so miles into the party that is the Twin Lakes aid station. I made the cut off, which I wasn't expecting to, with about 15 seconds to spare. My crew was there, asking what I needed and how I was doing....

I had to pee. The port-o-potties were about 35 feet from where I had sat down, and I could barely walk to them, my feet hurt so bad. 

What a most horrible feeling. Here I was, in the race of my dreams, and I couldn't walk 35 fucking feet to go pee. I felt amazing from the tops of my feet up, my belly had zero issues, my legs felt strong, my head was all there for once... But I couldn't walk the 35 fucking feet to go pee. 

I got a stern talking to from my crew and decided to drop. I was probably one of the hardest decisions I've ever made in my life. To this day I question whether or not I should've continued, whether or not I could have made that next climb. Years later, and it still bothers me. 

Best. Crew. EVER.

The next day, I told my husband that all I wanted for my 40th birthday was the Leadville Trail 100. And I was willing to do anything to get in again. 

But, I digress. 

It's been two years, and the decision to drop still weighs heavily on my mind. I still wonder what if. What if it was all in my head? What if I had tried just a little bit harder previous to that aid station? What is I'd just kept going against my better judgment? Would I have that damned buckle I've wanted for so many years now? 

I turn 40 next summer, and I still wanted my birthday present. Matt and I had talked about how to get me in again. Sign up for Leadwoman again. Then I'd have to do that mountain bike race I care nothing about. Sign up for the running camp... Yeah! The first so many to sign up get in! Great idea!

...Or. If I finished the marathon I could always put in my number for a coin and a spot in the run. This year, or I could defer to next. Which would give me my birthday present. 

I had zero expectations when I started this race. Never in my life had I had so little of an idea of how a day was going to go for me. Enter the above...

I put my number in the drawing. Lo and behold. I NEVER win shit like that. But I did. I screamed when I realized it was MY number that they'd called. I hugged the person nearest me. Not even sure who they were, didn't care. 

I got in line to get my letter, tears welling up in my eyes as I stood there. I got my 40th birthday present. I texted Matt. I cried. I started telling stories with the guys that were called just behind me in line, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged in that group of people.

I GOT IN!!!!!

I feel like I've arrived. I feel like I'm ready. I was able to tell stories of my own about puking, about injuries, about DNFs, about all those seemingly rites of passage that ultrarunners seem to have to endure. 

So here I am. It's been a few months, and the sheer excitement has worn off a little bit, and I'm starting to figure out how this journey of a lifetime is going to play out. Research, training plans, do I find a coach...? 

I have a year and a week from today to figure it out. And I just can't wait to start the process....

Today's run, in a word, sucked. It was windy and it was brutally cold... There were ankle deep snow drifts, and I'd managed to forget my gaiters. There was plenty of ice, too, and I've never been so happy to have MicroSpikes attached to my feet in my entire life. My face was numb. I mindlessly wondered what it would take to get frostbite on the end of my nose. My hands were so cold it took a long time in a hot shower before I could regain dexterity. 

-BUT-

I was having the time of my life. I was out with my (relatively) new running buddy, Lydia, and it was all giggles. We were miserable. It was so bad, all we could do was just laugh, and then laugh harder. Neither of us wished we were anywhere else. I guess that just goes to show how resilient the human spirit is. Or maybe it really just has to do with attitude. We were shouting, leaning into the wind, watching the snow blow around and whip up into little mini snow-nadoes just down the hills.  All I could think was, "Wow. THIS is what it means to live." I hadn't felt quite that alive in a long time. High stepping through the snow, half getting blown over by the gusts.  The cold air in my lungs, the wind whipping my ponytail around my face and straight into my eyes... (WHY didn't I braid it today like I normally do?) The tears streaming from behind my sunglasses, freezing to my face...

These are the moments I live for. These are the experiences that make life worth living. These feelings are what set you free. And, to be totally cheesy, this is why I run.

Life is a journey, we've all heard that before. A journey to go places, to meet people, and to figure out what in the hell it is we're supposed to be doing in our time on this earth. 

I've been struggling with that particular one lately. The fact that I'm almost 40 and still working an after school job at a bike shop weighs heavily on my mind. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my job. Well, most days, like normal people. But at the same time, I feel like something is missing. Like I'm meant for something bigger, something where I feel I actually make a difference in peoples' lives. Not quite sure what it is that I'm supposed to do, or, really, how to figure it out. 

Don't get me wrong. I am happy. I love my life. I'm super grateful for the wonderful experience I get to have, the places I get to go, the fact that my husband is awesome, not to mention super tolerant, of my lack of a "real" job. But it's for these very things that I feel I have to give back. 

The question is, how? In what vein? Where do I start? HOW do I start figuring that out? 

This one is going to become part of my mission for this year. It's something I'm going to try to explore on every run, during every experience, in my spare time... And maybe, if I listen to my instincts, I can figure it out....