Month: December 2014 Page 1 of 2

I have the mental map of every twist, turn, root, tree, hill, curve of the trail on this run.

http://www.strava.com/activities/231609333

Just 1 gel and a little water.
It was drizzling at Council Crest but I didn’t linger. Very muddy.

Excellent footage, excellent topic.

In my experience, there a lot of mountain athletes who share these traits. There is the dopamine / endorphin chemistry that occurs when pursuing outdoor activity. The thrill of climbing mountains, moving fast through complex terrain, up or down.

Everyone has ups and downs in life, I’ve personally never experienced what he’s talking about – the kind of depression that keeps you in bed for days. I get antsy when I don’t get outside, when I’m not doing something physical.

There is also a stigma about depression and mental illness and I just like that he shares what it’s like. And he’s humble about it.

[vimeo 105194950 w=500 h=281]

depressions – a few moments from 30 miles in the canyon. from the Wolpertinger on Vimeo.

Hard work today.

http://www.strava.com/activities/230648012

This is my new favorite run from bSIDE6. I love being about to get on the steep trails and and suffer a little bit during the day. Winter rains are causing the trails to become muddy and slippery. I’m still running in road shoes because of the road approach. I slid a few times descending.

It takes me most of the morning to mentally prep for a run like this one. The distance: I need to visualize every section and see myself moving quickly through each one. The weather: if it’s raining or cold – I need to prep for being cold and wet and getting muddy. I came back with mud all over my face today. Don’t know how.

I took my iPhone in a ziplock bag on my small waist pack today and took a few pictures. There is a natural desire to share experiences, especially solo experiences, but it’s so difficult to stop and take a photo. It slows me down, I get cold – I worry about capturing what I think would best describe the experience. It’s impossible. I concluded today that if someone wants to know what it’s like… they can read about it, they can ask me, or they can join me.

I’ve never lived in a place that is a perpetual state decay and growth, but that’s the best description of the PNW that I can think of – the forests are dripping with moisture, moss covers everything, decomposed organic matter everywhere, green everywhere.

Mile 8 was at a 6:44 pace… which is fast for me. I was pressing very hard coming back along the Esplanade. I think I scared a woman running as I crossed under the Hawthorne Bridge – her accoutrement was fitness chic with pearl earrings to match.

I was drooling, face caked with mud, OK if I puked, grunting my exhales LOUDLY.
I got after it today. Run happy. Perfect.

And I knew this was going to be the case but I didn’t want to believe it. All the running I’ve been doing didn’t do much for my climbing. After Sunday’s jaunt to Hood, my hip flexors are sore and my legs are tired.  Ran today and felt terrible.

Today’s run thought: There are no mutants, only people who work really really (really) hard. Harder than you think possible. And when that kind of work is put in – then it makes movement look effortless. There is no secret, only year after year of hard work.

http://www.strava.com/activities/230091592

I’m not going to run this route again. At the point on Burnside where there is no shoulder and traffic is approaching down the hill at high speed, I caught my left foot in a blackberry vine and nearly tripped into the road – tripped enough that I had my hands out to catch my fall.

I texted T on Friday and within 2 minutes we had plans for Sunday.  First day of the season, no expectations, just get out and stretch the legs a bit.

I was up at 5 making coffee and boiling water for tea to carry in the vacuum bottle. We were on the road to Govy by 6am. After signing in at the climber’s registry, we started up to Silcox hut. Windy right from the start, but the sun was shining and the horizon was clear with only a low broken cloud layer beneath us.

Escape pod.

Right away I realized how thin the snow cover was;  the road was chewed up cat track with gravel and exposed rocks everywhere. The snow was slightly better when we reached the hut and tucked behind the east wall to have a snack before continuing up.

Right away we made the mistake of trying to stay just to the right of the run coming down Palmer glacier. I’ve made this mistake a couple of times and it turns out to extremely icy. I think the wind coming over the ridge hits this spot and blows the snow down to an icy surface. We ended up traversing right and getting on the cat track as we made our way to the top of Palmer.

Volcanoes all the way down. Mt. Jefferson on the horizon.

The wind wasn’t gusting but was consistently in the 30-50mph range. I had a buff pulled up over my mouth and wore glasses – I should have covered up more and been wearing goggles.  The whipping ice and snow was exfoliating my face. When the wind slowly picked up I just turned my face away and down and paused until the winds calmed.

2800 meters, Hoodwand. Cold and windy.

A photo posted by Chris Rivard (@chrisrivard) on Dec 12, 2014 at 7:53pm PST

//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js

We traversed back left and made our way to the lift house at the top of Palmer, went inside and took our skis off and decided what to do. The skinning up high would be more wind blasted ice and probably not much fun to ski down. We decided to leave the skis and don crampons and continue up. The spindrift was covering everything – if I left my pack open for half a minute, it would be filled with snow. We stashed the skis outside the lift house in case they decided to shut it down and close the door because of the wind.

After climbing up for another 35 minutes,  to about 9400 feet, we went left and got a clear view of Illumination Saddle (one possible objective for the day). Tucked behind a boulder we had a snack, dispatched the Stiegl and agreed to descend, pick up the skis and bug out.

Ready to tear the skins off and ski out.

The ski out was icy and windy. Not super ideal conditions, but it was good to finally get out and on the mountain.

A few things:

• We were a little bit lax in our morning meeting. It consisted of a couple of objectives, subject to change based on conditions. It was an okay way to plan, but we should have done it before we left over coffee. Weather planning was okay – clear skies were forecasted, but I didn’t see anything about the wind.
• One thing I always try to improve are transitions. I usually put on my climbing skis the night before I set out instead of at the trailhead. My pack could have been better organized for food. Water was good – I carried about 2.5 liters plus the 20oz vacuum bottle. I didn’t put the insulated tube on the hydration pack though, so the bite valve froze closed.
• I did’t take the handheld GPS, but used a topo app with 15m quads on my phone – but I had my phone in my pack and it quickly went outside of the operating temperatures. The message on an iPhone when that happens is that the phone needs to “cool down”, it was actually frozen and rebooted after I put it in my pants pocket to re-warm.
• We took too long at the top of Palmer. I was thinking, would we be out in these conditions if there weren’t people around and if the lift house was closed? Not sure – but I think there is a false comfort in knowing there is shelter. I think in the future I’m going to avoid going anywhere near the lift house and rest/transition without relying on it; on a summit climb (leaving the lodge by 2am) the door is shut and locked.
• Never try to skin straight up Palmer … unless there has been a big dump and low winds. It’s always more efficient to stay right on the cat track.
• No more stopping at Silcox Hut – that should just be a quick gear check before continuing up.

Sharing a cold Stiegl and enjoying the view.

[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/134444684″ params=”color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]

I ran from the Esplanade to OMSI and then out onto the Springwater trail toward Oaks Bottom today. I wanted to run trails and considered running up to the Japanese Garden, but I didn’t want to run through downtown; and when I thought about it for a few minutes, I concluded I just didn’t want to see any people.  City people; rushing, cowering under their umbrellas, hiding in their hoods.

I started fast and when I got farther out on Springwater, past the homeless camps, past the lashed together dinghies on the Willamette that remind me of some PNW post-apocalyptic waterworld every time I pass, I slowed down… and then for a while I ran with my eyes closed.

It’s so flat and straight. With your eyes closed you find your lean. I was tracking just slightly to my left, not much. I tried to run a little longer, then opened my eyes to check my position, corrected and then closed them again. Like running in an sphere of energy, rolling along through 3 dimensions, the wind kissing my eyelids.

I found a trail. About 3 miles out, there is a trail into the woods off to the right, so I took it. And immediately I had to focus on my footing. I ran for a while through the woods and then came to a perch overlooking the river and stopped my watch.  I was directly across from the tower at the top of Council Crest. Looking up toward OHSU from the North part of the city, it looks like the tower is right behind OHSU. It isn’t; it’s some distance South.

I wondered how cold the water was and if there was a strong undertow; and thought about putting on a wetsuit and swimming across the river; just to do it. Something about being tenacious and driven and intense and relentless. Never stop moving. Then I turned around and ran slowly and then more slowly back to the office – just joggin’ on the flats.

[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/95837948″ params=”color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]

Uncomfortable and on the edge of control is my preferred state.

That was my run thought today as I made my way through Forest Park. After 2 days of rest, I was giddy to be moving fast through downtown and up to the intersection of Burnside and the Wildwood Trail. I used the Google Pedometer to map out a big loop over to Council Crest, but it was 10.5 miles. I just didn’t have the time, yes motivation, yes tenacity, not enough time during the work day. 8 miles +/- per hour is what I can do right now. So I cut it short and went through the Arboretum. I always love looking at this shelter when I run by, but I never have my phone with me, today I did.

A photo posted by Chris Rivard (@chrisrivard) on Dec 12, 2014 at 1:22pm PST

//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js

When trail running, I strive to attain that edge of control and hold it for as long as possible; It’s when I feel most alive. It takes complete focus, all my mental energy.  I hesitate to subject anyone else to it.

I worked hard coming over the bridge back to the office. And then I worked harder. In the rain and wind with my clothes sticking to my wet skin I growled ferociously. Loudly.

Burn it down til the embers smoke on the ground;
And start new when your heart is an empty room.

The rain in the forest is different than rain under the open sky. In the forest the moisture condenses on the fir needles and falls in big drops; some landed on my head – PLOP! SPLASH!

FARSTER. It’s a portmanteau I made up today. It means run farther faster.
When you think it, it has to be in ALL CAPS. The other thing I was thinking in ALL CAPS today was:

INTENSE.

http://www.strava.com/activities/228225147

Good resource:
http://www.csun.edu/~dgw61315/fallacies.html

I was trying to find the name for taking an extreme position on something for the sake of argument. I guess it’s a straw man, but I thought there was another name for it –

Something about building character or having *the* experience turn into *experience* or digging deep or suffering or applying a little pain or stressing the system in an antifragile sort of way. Maybe all of the above.

Pouring rain, about 37 degrees at the office. Shorts in my running kit. Iffy conditions. Iffy. Not “full conditions” in the Ben Nevis sense,  but close enough for Portland. A few degrees colder near Council Crest and maybe I’d have seen some snow or freezing rain. It was touching 33/34 degrees up top.

So glad I wore a beanie under my brimmed hat to cover my ears… and I could have used warmer (+ waterproof) gloves. Making a fist and squeezing all the water out of the gloves does the trick and forces some blood back into my hands. I had trouble buttoning my shirt when I got back the office. Kind of numb all over.

The ghost whisperer shell mostly kept the heat in, but I was so soaked from the inside and outside on the way back.  I dreaded stopping at any crosswalks back through PSU – need to keep generating heat.  But I had the Marquam Trail all to myself, I saw not a soul.

I was a little tweaked when I got back to the office and put all the clothes I had including a buff as hat plus hoody; I drank mug after mug of Green Chai to try to warm up standing at my desk.

Good stuff today. Getting after it:
http://www.strava.com/activities/226248312

And my VO2 Max spiked to 66 – which is approaching mutant zone. Huzzah.

Also changed up my runmix to include such chart topping hits as:

• Word Up, (Cameo) listened to that one twice
• Bring tha Noize – Public Enemy + Anthrax
• Let’s Go Crazy (Prince & the Revolution) “…so when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills, you know the one, Dr. Everything’ll Be Alright…”
• Blue Monday (New Order)
• Push It (Static X)
• My Shit’s Fucked up (Warren Zevon) *2nd only to Lawyers, Guns and Money

You know… just the hits 🙂