It has been nearly a year since our first trip up to Columbine Cabins. Robb + I headed up on a whim after a few friends recommended the area. Since then we’ve been up there four times, always in the winter. In the past we have opted for the more Read more…
Sometimes I have a million + a half words to throw down on a page. Words about the trail or words about my feelings or words of advice or…just words. Other times, I have no words. Or at least I don’t have words that make any sense or follow any logical thought process. That is me, right now. I have a lot on my mind, but it doesn’t quite make sense yet.
While I’m here in Switzerland I’ll be spending a lot of time on the trails. There will be plenty of day hikes and long runs, just because I can. Trails will become a huge part of this little adventure for a few reasons — they are cheap, they take you to amazing views, they make me incredibly happy and they bring people together. The first two a pretty obvious, so when REI asked me to share what trails meant to me I wanted to share the effects dirty single track has had on my life!
Okay, this is getting a little bit ridiculous. It’s been nearly three weeks since I ran the Steamboat Marathon and, while I have a few failed attempts saved, I am yet to actually write about the race. In my defense I haven’t had time to write about anything but what’s really holding me back about this race recap is the gigantic gap between the important parts I want to share and coherent writing.
The race was important to me for a few reasons – it was a road race I had a few time goals for, my mom + friends + Jeremy spent the weekend in Steamboat for this race and because, at the end of the day, I learned how to have fun even when I was hating life. But for some reason I cannot figure out how to put the experience into words — not necessarily because it was so profound but because my brain is so exhausted with EMT training/medical jargon the thought of trying to process the experience into words freaks me out.
On Friday morning I started the longest run of my life – the Run, Rabbit, Run 100 in Steamboat Springs.
On Saturday evening I finished the race still running with a big ol’ goofy grin on my face.
I walked away from the race a smarter runner. I played it safe from the start. I was hyperaware of my body and addressed niggles as the popped up, not hours later. I ate consistently and consciously, without puking. I kept moving forward with purpose. I ran across the finish line.
Exactly 0% of my weekend went as planned. Well, I guess I did make the drive to Steamboat and my car was momentarily parked in the Dry Lake Trailhead parking lot, so maybe 4% as planned? Everything else…was not at all what I had planned. Some of it was kind of expected, some of it was very unwelcome and none of this insanity is made up, trust me!
Before I even made it to Steamboat I managed to lose my headlamp in the bag I had packed to take with me and forget my wallet + credit cards + ID in the bag I usually bring but chose to leave behind this weekend. Of course I didn’t realize my wallet was chilling back home on my bed until I pulled up to a gas pump 70 miles from home with an empty tank. Oops. Lucky for me this happens more often than I care to admit and I had a backup plan in place – a rarely used credit card I had stashed in the Forester!