Five Weeks Worth of Foolishness

Question and Answer
Question: How does one know when it's been a really long time since one posted an entry on one's website?
Answer: When one goes to log in and add an entry, one discovers that one has forgotten one's password and has to be reminded of what it is so one can log in and add one's latest entry. So one sends in a request via the magic of the internet, and there is a nearly instantaneous response which involves some kind of database, one has to imagine, along with some type of an automatic response system, and within (literally) 30 seconds, one receives a message in one's mailbox telling one what one's password is so that one can go ahead and log in and start posting. Pretty amazing stuff, wouldn't you say?

Anyway, this might turn out to be one of those long and winding kinds of roads since we're covering 5 weeks of material, so consider yourself forewarned (and we all know, to be forewarned is to be forearmed, whatever that means).

Estes Park: Part 1
When we arrived on the eve of May 31, it was raining. And it was cold. And for the next week-and-a-half, it rained quite a bit. And it was (for us desert dwellers) cold (by cold, I mean the highs each day were in the 50's and at night it dropped into the 30's and there was one afternoon when I looked out the cabin window and saw these weird white flaky things blowing around through the trees - which turned out to be snowflakes). So we spent a lot of time playing board games and reading and doing puzzles and cozying up around the fireplace. And then it warmed up just a bit on the day of the EP marathon (high in the mid-60's) which was actually pretty comfortable temperature-wise. And I have to say that it's kind of cool to run a marathon that only has 104 participants. For one thing, parking really isn't an issue. I drove down to town about 1/2 an hour before the race and was still one of the first people there. For another thing, the lines for the port-a-potties are really short. For a third thing, you're pretty much guaranteed to finish in the top 100 (I wound up 54th). And finally, there's not much of a pause between the starter saying, "Go!" and you crossing the start line. In fact, there really isn't a pause at all. They say, "Go!" and you go. Imagine that.

Estes Park: Part 2
Things started getting difficult, though, right after crossing the start line. I was running along at a decent clip, but for some reason (perhaps because we were at 7,500 feet?) I was finding it difficult to breathe. But I ignored that (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) and barrelled through the first two miles, then turned to head up a four-mile uphill stretch that led to the high point of the course (just a smidge over 8,100 feet). As before, it was tough to breathe, but I ignored that (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) because I was chugging along and starting to think, "Hey, maybe I can do a sub-four-hour marathon at altitude. Wouldn't that be cool?" And it all was okay to the top of the hill, when we veered to the right and headed back down towards town, at which point I figured I could pick up the pace a little bit since it wasn't so hard to breathe going downhill (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) and then we ran along a river for a couple of miles and I saw my cheering section at around mile ten (mom, Katie, Carrie, niece - plus Connor, who was not part of the cheering section because instead of cheering for his father, he was sitting in a chair moping rather than cheering, because this was the "most boring thing he'd ever had to do. Ever."). And my pace was still pretty good to that point, but I was starting to feel fatigued, and I knew I'd better start taking some walk breaks soon or I was going to be in trouble. So I decided to take a quick walk break every mile and see how that went, and it was okay as we circled around the lake and passed the halfway point, but then we had to head up another couple of quick hills and my legs were dead and I was doing a lot more walking than I'd planned on. But I still held onto my pace through mile 18, but at that point I was facing another two-mile uphill climb and I knew I was done. I just couldn't breathe well enough to run uphill anymore. So I decided that I was going to enjoy the scenery, enjoy the beautiful weather, and not worry about my time, and I walked the uphills and ran the flats or downhills for the final 8 miles and was really, really glad when I reached the finish line (though not as glad as Connor, who had been rolling on the ground, moaning things like, "Torture. This is torture," because he was so bored of waiting for his father to finish the race - my niece was also less than impressed with my performance, because she kept asking, "Why is Uncle Brian so slow? Why are so many people finishing ahead of him?"). So I finished with my worst time ever, and my diaphragm was cramping and I was more than a little dizzy and had to pause to catch my breath every fifth step when I walked back to the car with Katie, but other than that, it was a beautiful course and a beautiful day and there's nothing wrong with being humbled just a bit every now and again.

Estes Park: Part 3
We still had another week in EP and the weather got quite a bit nicer, though it was still fairly cool. But we managed to get in several hikes and saw lots and lots of snowdrifts on the trails and took Carrie up Flattop Mountain, which really had a lot of snow - so much that Carrie and I both had completely soaked feet by the end (on the other hand, Katie, thanks to her magical Gore-Tex boots, was completely dry - which she pointed out at least 27,000 times on the trip down the mountain). And then we piled back into the car at 3:30 in the morning and drove and drove and drove until we finally arrived back in the Old Pueblo, where it was (and still is) really, really hot.

Rockin' and Rollin'
However, after only two days back in the Old Pueblo, I got up at 3:30 in the morning and drove to the airport, boarded a plane, and flew to Seattle with my Team in Training group for the Seattle Rock 'n' Roll marathon. And the weather there was cloudy and pleasant (although on the day of the race it was nothing less than beautiful - not a cloud in the sky and temps in the mid-70's). Contrary to the EP marathon (which, as mentioned before, had 104 participants) this one had 25,000, so things were a little different at the starting area - as in, it was really, really crowded, and when the starter said, "Go!" the only people who "went" were the elite runners way up at the front of the pack, and everyone else kind of stood around until they called for the next group to move forward and said, "Go!" again, and that group "went" and we all shuffled forward about 50 feet, and so on until, about 20 minutes after the race had started, our corral reached the starting line, and this time when they said, "Go!" we finally "went" (but the other 20 corrals behind us were still shuffling and waiting). And then on the course, there were actually people all around. And not just one or two, but lots and lots of people all around. But it was all good, and everyone in our group managed to finish (with a combination of smiles and tears), and I put in a lot of miles (35) and was really tired by the time it was all done (and wore out a pair of shoes). And along the course there were beautiful views of Mt. Rainier (from the Lake Washington Bridge and with the stadiums in the foreground) and also of the Seattle skyline, Puget Sound, Lake Washington, etc.). And then we got back on the plane and flew back to Tucson, where it was (and still is) really, really hot.

Speaking of which…
Running during monsoon season in Tucson is really, really tough. Because it's a wet heat, and sweat doesn't evaporate when it's this wet, it just sits there on your skin and soaks into your clothes and drips into your eyes and makes it look like you just got out of the shower. Plus there are all these little bugs that like to swarm around after it rains, and when you run through them, they stick to the sweat on your arms and neck and face and legs and they get in your eyes and get trapped between your teeth, so that when you finish, you look like a really wet, sweaty person who's covered in bugs. So that was pretty much what my run was like this morning.

And finally
We finally decided to get a new car, and after much searching and dilly-dallying, we got a Toyota Prius. So we now have four vehicles parked in and around our home, which is pretty ridiculous (though we are planning on selling one as soon as we can find a buyer). When I drove the car home and showed it to the kids, the response was unanimous. "This car is way too nice for us," they said. And it probably is. It's not a rusty 1989 pickup truck. And it's not a soccer-mom mini-van. Plus, it's got automatic windows and locks. Yow.

All right, my fingers are cramping and my brain is numb, so until next time (which will be sooner than 5 weeks from now, I promise), may your skies remain blue (unless you're praying for rain), may your roads remain uncluttered, and may your batteries remain fully charged. Happy Birthday, America.