Sorting It Out In The Aspen

The last week on the road has flown as I've been spending my time in the Aspen area. It's been 10 years since I left a shoebox sized studio apartment attached to a duplex on the side of a hill just above a river. I seldom had visitors and as one friend put it, “Your place is so small you have to step outside to change your mind!” When I lived in Aspen I was either working, skiing, hiking, riding my bike, or running. My home was nothing more than a place to eat, shower, and sleep. Such is the active mountain lifestyle in Colorado. I occupied the shoebox for 3 ½ years before I packed up and did something totally different by working 2 years with a start up company in Boulder. Burned out I retreated to my hometown of Houston which has worked out surprisingly well as a base of operations.

I started this segment of what I'm calling a, “Blowin In The Wind Roadtrip”, by climbing 13,900 ft Drift Peak. It only seemed fitting for my current drifter ways. It was a splendid hike/scramble along a rocky ridge to a relatively rugged summit. I had been noticing the peak above Blue Lake, just north of Climax mine, for years and my guidebook had nice things to say about it. Being located near highway 91, between Frisco and Leadville, made it a perfect pit stop enroute to Aspen. After the hike I pressed on to Leadville for lunch before the drive up and over the exceptionally scenic Independence pass into Aspen.

Since then it's been catching up with friends remembered and a few forgotten. It's interesting to note how many have jumped into the family thing later in life. While my friends of equal age in Houston are sending their kids to college, my friends of equal age in Aspen are changing diapers. The good news is that although each guy was nervous about becoming a father all seem to be quite happy to have made the leap. As one friend put it, he had plenty of time to get all of the skiing, partying and whatever out of the way and now feels a lot more patient to be dealing with the challenges of fatherhood. I don't see myself making that sort of leap but its interesting to see.

For whatever reason I thought a running race of 14 miles with a 1,500 feet of elevation gain and 1,700 feet of elevation loss would be fun to do so I showed up for one Saturday morning on a whim. The race is called the Mt Sopris runoff and is point to point from the settlement of Emma to the town of Carbondale. It's run in conjunction with the Carbondale Mountain Fair. I haven't raced in over 2 years and have no real desire to do so but I was curious as to how I'd do. I always maintain a decent level of fitness so I expected I could cover the distance respectably on the wings of muscle memory.
 
Around 7:30 am a pack of 80 or so runners lined up with a view of 14,000 ft Capital peak in the background and off we went. I immediately tried to muster up the pep in my step that I had 10 years ago but sea level living, an aversion to speed work, and too many flat miles in Houston had me adjusting my pace accordingly. Based on knowing my athletic ability I figured I could cover the distance in around one hour forty five minutes.

I noticed I was breathing a little heavy through the first mile but I figured I'd warm up and things would get a little easier. I found my climbing gear for the 6 ½ miles of steady ascent as I paced off a cute young super fit lady. My shallow goal at that point was not to get chicked. That's slang for getting beat by a woman.

The climb never got easier but I maintained an even effort. I thought my even 8 min pace for the first 3 miles was pretty good for uphill at altitude but it seemed to be a bit slow for the 20 or so runners ahead of me. I'm good at even running so I new I'd reel a few in as long as I focused on my own race. Damn, my breathing continued to be heavier than normal. Steady, Steady.

The pavement ran out about a mile from the summit Prince Creek Pass. As I rounded a corner near the top a scarecrow looking dummy of Jimmy Buffett, lounging on a chair, greeted runners with "Margaritaville" blaring over some speaker. The aid station crew appeared to have already had a couple of Margaritas. I requested a sports drink as I shuffled through. Then began the downhill.

I figured I might make up some time but the dirt road was rough and rocky. The footing was a little dodgey. Again, I tried to muster up the pep in my step that I had 10 years ago but it wasn't quite there. Nonetheless, I passed the cute young lady that I'd been pacing off of for the last 9 miles focused on catching the next runner in the distance.

The rocky dirt road eventually led to pavement and things flattened out a bit. I dug deep and passed one runner then another. As the grade eased my flat land conditioning added a little advantage. While running at high altitude in the mountains makes runners an ace on uphills and uneven terrain it doesn't bode well for speed on the flats. When I lived at altitude I use to do speed work on long gradual downhills. It was the only way to get the turnover and proper stride for flatter terrain. 8,000 ft is too high to develop real leg speed.

As I rolled into the last mile I overtook one more runner but he had a little extra in the tank and pulled a ahead. I began to feel a little nauseous as I tried to pass and backed off. He pulled away as I rolled through the finish line 4 seconds behind with a time of 1 hour 46 minutes and 11th place overall. Fourth in the 40-49 age group. It's good to know I can still fall into the mix but the experience failed to ignite any real interest to get serious about racing again. I'm just happy to be able to maintain a good level of fitness.

Tomorrow I'll move on from Aspen. Unlike other times of travel I can't say I'm feeling a clear direction or the enthusiasm I normally do. Perhaps it truly is time to do something different or maybe I just haven't yet found my stride in the moment. As usual I'm fortunate and grateful to have so much freedom but its important that I feel like I'm moving the right direction. I guess I'm feeling a little uncertain as for my reasons to roam right now. It feels like my timing is off or something. At least I picked a nice part of the country to sort it out.