And So It Begins.

With my first full week of marathon training under my belt, I think that the Hal Higdon Novice 2 is actually going to work with my schedule. I modified it a bit, but the only thing I'm really sacrificing is some bike rides with my husband. Which sucks, but in the summer I'm a busy gal. And Friday's rest day will allow me to put in the requisite minimum 60 hours to study for my sommelier certification test... the same week as the Portland marathon! I can't wait to get up over fifteen miles, but I know I have to take it slow to avoid injuring myself. I will be the first one to admit that I may not be cut out for marathon running, but I'm already dreaming about it, and getting guilt about not running harder or farther. It's a weird, weird thing...

Colchuck Lake Overnighter

Couldn't get people to join me for this one, so I took off optimistically for what I termed a "tourist hike." Leavenworth is five hours from Portland, so I left Sunday morning and arrived around 1:30 via US 97, which is butt ugly from Goldendale to Ellensburg. I was surprised at how close the trail is to town - it's only an eight mile drive to where charming Icicle Road intersects Eightmile Road, and from there only four more to the popular Stuart Lake trailhead.

The trail is about 4.5 miles to the lake, somewhat longer than the mileage I had read. The hiking is challenging but not harder than your average Gorge hike. Think Table Mountain or Silver Star. With a pack, I was hot, but it was not bad at all, and extremely well-marked for such meandering, rugged terrain.

At the lake, campsites are not immediately apparent. There is one at the outlet of the lake  but the others are on the south side of the lake near the approach to Asgaard Pass. In the picture below, you can see the lake with the pass, Dragontail Peak and Colchuck peak from left to right. Asgaard looks scary as shit here, but in the late summer it is mostly a very steep scramble. It's the shortest of two entrances to the Core Enchantments zone, and many hikers do it as a long dayhike to circumvent the permit process.

I explored around the rim of the lake a bit, and decided to do more in the morning. I backtracked to the first campsite near the privy.

At camp, I took plenty of pictures, ate dinner, read my book and mused about life and why I do things like drive five hours to go sit by myself on a rock and eat dehydrated food from a bag. No doubt this was a gorgeous lake, but not necessary as a backpack. I guess I thought it would be fun. And it was, mostly, until my night-time visitor. At about midnight, a large animal clambered up the boulders about five feet from my tent and then hovered near it for the rest of the night. I would hear it intermittently, scared out of my mind. The fact that I never heard my bear canister and stove jiggle from my kitchen area baffled me, and I couldn't understand why the animal was just hanging out. Was I being stalked? I yelled, made noise, and prepared to do battle with my trekking poles, but in reality all I could think was to kiss my ass goodbye if it came into my tent. I swore up and down never to camp solo again, despite every other uneventful experience I have had. Eventually, I relaxed and drifted off for a few minutes. And then, at 4 am I heard the metallic click of hikers carrying trekking poles and mountaineering gear, and saw the faint glow of first light. My relief was intense. I got out to relieve the bladder that had been bursting since midnight. After fumbling around with my gear for a bit and journaling about my experience, I got out again. This time I noticed I wasn't alone.

This large goat was hovering near my toilet area, about 10 feet from me. At first, I was surprised in the way that you are when you realize you are a) being watched, and b) in the presence of wildlife. I was calm enough to take a picture before shooing him away. He didn't exactly shoo particularly fast, and in fact it took quite a bit of noise and a bluff charge on my part before he scampered up the trail a bit. "Wow, that's pretty cool," I thought. "Now, on to breakfast." I started to move towards my kitchen when I noticed he was back, and had noiselessly shimmied into the trees behind me. What the hell...? I tried to scare him off again, and this time he just stared at me with creepy narrow-set eyes. We carried on like this for about fifteen minutes until I started to feel a little threatened. It occurred to me from his sounds and movements that this was my night-time visitor! While I knew he wasn't a threat to me, his persistence was getting a little freaky. Once he got too close and I lobbed a rock in his direction - this seemed to provoke him a bit. At this point, I gave in. I'm stubborn, but I'm not that stubborn. Touché, goat. You can have my campsite and whatever dried pee you can find, you weirdo. I hastily stuffed my backpack full, and he escorted me out like a damn security guard. Fuck you, goat.

Summer Will-Do List

Not me. Yet.

Having peered up Asgaard Pass, I got the crazy notion in my head that I want to traverse the Enchantments in one day. The overnight permit system sounds like a pain and I'm not sure I want to deal with it. The car shuttle/hitchhiking situation might prove too tricky, however, in which case I'll just do Little Annapurna. At the same time, I decided to train for the Portland Marathon in October to get myself fit enough to manage the demands of the traverse. Also because I'm a masochist, and I just want to do it. I just need a little more snow-melt and I'm off and running...

1. Mt Aix Dayhike
2. Blanca Lake Dayhike
3. K.Katwalk or Lake Ingalls Dayhike
4. Robin/Jade Lakes or Lake Ingalls Dayhike
5. Wright Mtn via Snow Lake Dayhike
6. Pilchuck/Lake 22 Dayhike
7. Lyman Lakes Backpack
8. Mt Persis/Lake Serene Dayhike
9. Tank Lakes Backpack
10. Baker/Shuksan Dayhikes
11. Close hike (Norway Pass?)
12. Middle Sister Backpack
13. Little Annapurna Dayhike/Enchantments Traverse
14. Close Hike (Yocum Ridge?)
15. Portland Marathon

My First Half Marathon

The day finally came and went and now I'm left wondering how to keep up with running while balancing hiking, cycling, sommelier studies and a full-time work schedule. There is a race early next year on the PCT that looks appealing, so maybe I'll train for that as another early season opener. But I also have the goofy idea in my head that I'd like to do a marathon or an ultra, although the fact that i can hardly go down the stairs right now is making double my distance today look pretty fantastical.

I'll do a little write-up of the event for anyone who stumbles across this blog. First off, my training. I didn't follow any real training plan, although my regime loosely mirrored Hal Higdon's novice 2 program. Back in December I started running slow 3 miles on the trails at Forest Park and was soon running 6-9 miles. I did this about 3 times a week, with a long run a Saturday and cycling on Sundays. I generally kept to this, increasing my mileage every week. My splits generally fell between 9 and 10 minutes on pavement, but slower on trails.

Yesterday I was anxious about "tapering." I felt as though I was being too easy on myself and should've run more. I got fearful of eating too much and putting on weight when I should've been at my fittest. But I forced myself to rest the last two days, especially since I work on my feet. I ate cheese and roasted chicken, avoided grains and anything else that has been known to bother my temperamental stomach. My carb load dinner was just a huge salad and then fingering potatoes and brown rice with olive oil and salt. In the morning I had a whole wheat wrap with peanut butter and a banana and a sugar-free Red Bull (gross, I know, but sometimes my coffee addiction doesn't mesh with running). Whatever I did, it was right. I hit the trail slightly hungry but with no runner's stomach issues. I carried Gatorade and Gu packets.

The route starts off with a pretty nice downhill to the lake as a warm up, and then a short rocky staircase climb after which the trail is mostly rollers on gentle forest trail. Runners leave staggered, but I still had to navigate past walkers who had lined up with the faster runners. No big deal, the trail was wide enough to accommodate everyone. I hopped onto an 11 minute mile paceline for a little while, then about 4 or 5 miles in decided I was selling myself short and should kick it up. By the first aid station I was feeling the difference between trail and road running - it's much harder, even on a "flat" trail like Timothy Lake. But I plodded on, a little faster this time, now consistently in the low 10 minute mile pace range. When I got to the dam I began to feel confident that I would finish, and followed the scenic shoreline around the south side of the lake alternating between grimacing with pain and shooting around other runners when I felt a surge of energy.  The climb back up the hill at the end slowed everyone down - back in the mid-pack no one was running up that thing. I was shooting for finishing the 14.1 mile loop around 2 hours 30 minutes (actually under, but once I saw how much slower the trail was I decided anywhere in the vicinity would be fine), and finished with a time of 2:31. I was fifth in my division, middle of the overall group, and in the upper third of all women. I'm fine with that for my first half, especially since trail times are slower. I don't know if I left everything I had out there, but I certainly couldn't have done much better even if I had started off faster.

The weather was nice, the mosquitoes in the morning were heinous. Dr B and friends had gone biking in the area, so after my little post-race snack and nap in the back of my car we all went to the Ratskellar in Government Camp. I took the risk of drinking alcohol with a depressed immune system and had a crappy margarita with a salt rim. Mmmm, sour mix.