blogging from Denver

I'm in Denver. It's sunny and 30ish, so not bad for March 14th. Here's an update on the events that have occurred recently: Susan Komen Romp to Stomp 3K Snowshoe Race: what someone stabbing a knife into your lungs must feel like. So, I knew that the race was going to suck, but this really sucked. It all started when we had 5 minutes to the gun upon arriving at the start. Warmup you ask? Nay. So, I strapped snowshoes on for the first time, never having taken a step in them and prepared myself for racing at 9600 ft. in elevation (also having never done previously). The gun sounded and we were off. I asked my friend from college, Denver native, previous cross country runner what pace to take. He said, "something slow." "Okay," I said to myself. 8 min/mi is pretty slow. I started at my 8 min/mi pace only to realize I was leading the damn race. Now, for a previous sprinter, this is a good thing. Your leading the race, setting the pace, not a bad deal. I was feeling good. Lung felt fine; legs felt fine. We were on groomed snow, so not really needing the snowshoes. All of a sudden, I see the track veers right, into the woods. Suddenly we are now single track, going uphill and fast. Now, I'm feeling some twinge of exertion. And then it happens. We're about 400 meters from the start, and my lungs start to feel like someone set them on fire in my chest. I go into oxygen debt and realize I'm slowing down. FAST. My 8 min/mi pace becomes 9, 10, shit: I have to walk. Okay, I still can't breathe. Time to stop. Yep, that's right. I usually run a mile or so warm up normally, and I have to stop about 500 meters after starting a race. I step to the side of the track and let Sweet by. Along with about 30 other people, even before I can catch my breath. My 3K race, turned into a 3K walk/jog of hell. So, after humbling myself greatly, I regain my breath and continue on. Uphill, uphill, uphill, are we ever going to flatten out? Finally the course plateaus and I can jog. And now, we descend. A nice and easy 45 degrees down bubble on a single track with snowshoes onto mixed powder and track. (Not safe) Finally get down level again and have to walk some more. I drag myself to the finish line into a crowd of people that doesn't part; I feel like puking on their snowshoes, which Sweet did apparently. Apparently, this course was designed by a chick who is the national champion of snowshoeing. I'll look her up and give you names after I get back to my base of operations.

3K race: "I wish that had turned out better."

Vail: next post (involves a blizzard, hellish driving conditions, and illegal substances) I'll get some pics up ASAP.

Altitude training/running: soon to come

Current condition: damn my lungs are still burning and now i have a bug living in them.