Wednesday, May 7, 2008


2,400 vertical

The day was on track for me to leave work at 3:35 and go meet George for a run up Green. Nothing going on at work, until, of course, 3:30 when I am readying to leave an issue arises. I listen intently, nervously checking my watch. OK, 3:39, i'm out, but wait, another issue. OK, this will really have to wait till tomorrow. I race out the door and rally it across Boulder trying my best to change clothes all the while. Dang it, on time for me is late and I know George is even more punctual than I. I whip up to my usual parking spot, but much to my surprise, all 5 spaces are full, as well as option 2 and I don't want to park at the Gregory TH due to it being pay and the high risk of getting your car broken into. It is 3:51, so I consider zipping up there to catch George, but I am miffed and in a hurry, so I go 60+ and screetch to a halt and park as close as I can along Baseline. Now I can't find one of the 2 shoes I intend to wear. In my haste I tear the car apart looking for it but nothing. Fortunately I have a few backup pairs, but now I am pre-occupied by the fact that I may have lost one of my best shoes (that I paid for).

I haul ass up the trail still getting my act together. Sierra gets in front of me and I trip, stumble and swear. This is supposed to be enjoyable, not contribute to high blood pressure. As expected there is no sign of George at the TH when I arrive at 3:59, he has a family to get home to. I take off up the trail hoping he is not too far along. I ask a few people and get confirmation that he is ahead, but by ~10 minutes. My legs feel amazingly good and I am highly motivated. Nothing gets me going like being pissed and late. Unfortunately, Sierra is not as motivated and dilly dallys her way along and stops for water every chance she gets. I could set a PR, but that would probably mean losing the dog, so I stop a LOT to wait.

I bump into the guy who looks homeless higher up the mountain and says that George is only 2 minutes ahead and kicking my butt. I lay it on hard for a while, but never see any sign of him. I hit the summit in 40, but it is starting to rain so we keep on boogying. A crack of thunder puts a bit more pep in our step and we are down in 25, still no sign of George but we tried hard.

OK, all that hurrying, now what? Oh yeah, sit in crazy traffic all the way home to Broomfield. Despite the bitching I had a fun run regardless. It was really nice out and I felt strong, just a little held back by the dog. And of course once I calmed down, I found my other shoe, sitting out in plain view.