Re(-)Laps(e)

Who is immune?  None of us.  It's happened again - I'm hooked.  Back on the daily with it.  I was just doing it here or there in the summer, but now I can't stop.  I've relapsed on trail-running!

The rush of the race.

This type of relapse, however, can often be healthy.  Daily running is the greatest anti-depressant and cognitive enhancer I know of.  I do use a plethora of nootropic supplements for keeping mood upbeat and thoughts focused, but these alone don't cut it.  Summer is ever the season when I  take a break from running, switching from getting on the trail 5-6 days a week to just 1-3.  Largely this is because it just doesn't feel good to run in the heat (although I'm sure some of the admirable freaks that enjoy the Badwater Ultra 135 mile footrace in Death Valley would disagree with me).   Also, when work gets busy it discourages me from running much because my jobs tend to be physical and on-the-feet.  I discovered this past summer, in which I was sedentary instead of traveling, that losing that daily run habit can cause my motivation to fall stagnant and thought-loops to lean in the direction of depressive (case in point:  this is my first blog entry in quite a while).



The goal is ever seeking balance:  finding the sweet spot of how much cardio activity is the healthy amount which allows greatest satisfaction with all other aspects of life.  In the same way I speak of running relapse, I also know from personal experience that one can overdose (colloquially termed "over-training").  The worst overdose of running I put myself through was just a few years back...

Training on Methodist Mountain.

. . .it is December 31st, 2016.  I am sitting in blissful solitude in my 1977 Dodge Sportsman RV Beaver Coach that I have parked & plugged in behind a mini-golf course in Salida, Colorado.  I am staying up until midnight, but not to watch a ball drop or toast bubbly wine, but rather to sign up for the Run, Rabbit, Run 100 mile foot race in Steamboat Springs.  With two trail marathons under my belt and having read all of the ultra-runner literature I could get my hands on, I know this is my year - the year I go from marathoner to ULTRA-MARATHONER.  The idea gives delusions of Ubermensch possibility.  Run, Rabbit, Run is a qualifier for the Ultra-Mecca that is Hardrock 100.  I'll train as hard as I can. . . warm up with the Collegiate Peaks 50 in Buena Vista in the Spring, then be ready to kill it at Run, Rabbit come September me thinks.  January turns into February turns into March.  I wake up each morning at dawn, down some ground coffee beans steeped in a French-Press glass pitcher and stirred with coconut oil, unsweetened cocoa powder, and butter (I went into ketosis all of December to teach my body to burn its own fat & now keep a paleo diet as inspired by Timothy Olson's eating habits).  Throw on some minimalist running shoes (Inov-8 Terraclaws, Vibram 5-Finger Spyridons,  or Luna Venado Sandals) and run a few blocks down Rainbow Boulevard to the dirt road & trail-system that will take me all the way up Methodist Mountain.  The weather is chilly and the ascent is steep, but I am elated at the exertion in each step & leap.  When open dirt-road gives way to trail & then forest the change of scenery inspires awe.  I get to look down at The Arkansas valley, and then plummet back down to my house-on-wheels.  After this half-marathon, AM session I walk across the street to the town's aquatic center for a soak in the mineral-infused pool and even swim laps for cross-training.  Then, there is a short window of time to scarf some lunch before I work the evening shift as head-server / manager-on-duty / bartender at the small family restaurant where I work.  The job is tiresome and I am on my feet the entire time in semi-fancy, non-slip, overly narrow restaurant type shoes.   This goes on week-after-week, month-to-month.


All of the sudden it is May and almost time for my first ultra-marathon:  the Collegiate Peaks 50.  But something has worn away at my feet in the last month.  In particular, there is a pain in my right foot that is present anytime I am on it (which is often).  "No pain no gain!" is the mantra I feed my head.  This must just be part of the deal.  The week before Collegiate Peaks I should be training moderately and resting my legs the day or two before.  But I'm not .... I am preparing to move to Denver for the summer and I'm cleaning my RV, walking / running a dog I am taking care of, and staying up late into the night repairing a busted iPad screen.  I can't take it easy. . . there's so much going on.  The small-town life isn't what I need anymore.   It's time to go - so I'm on the go.  Doing this, doing that - preparation, packing - gotta move, gotta get to the big city, "Can't wait to be in class again!"

The backdrop of Collegiate Peaks 50 (photo not taken during race).

May 6th, 2017:  the morning of my first ultra in Buena Vista, CO.  I don't feel rested, but isn't that just the way? - "this is ENDURANCE SPORT, dammit!" is the manner in which I reason.  "I'll be fine."  About ten miles into the race myself and a few other running bodies miss a turn because a patrol car is blocking the indicator ribbon.  We get off course for a few miles. . . never encouraging.  Get back on track. . . feeling okay. . . make light conversation with other runners under-the-influence of endorphins.   Keep going. . . "ackkkkk."   My soles hurt.  It's not right.  I try to keep moving - it's 18 or 19 miles in and I'm choking.  I don't want to move - but I do.  I keep moving, however it is a forced, painful fast walk.  Luckily this race included an option where a runner could drop down to the 25 mile distance if he / she wasn't feeling up for the full 50.  I concede to this option, but even completing 25 miles is rough.  My time is 5 hours and 17 minutes.  Instead of finally running an ultra, I've run a race that ended up being 1.2 mile less than a marathon, and it has taken me about an hour longer than my marathon times.

This isn't especially encouraging for the outlook of how Run, Rabbit, Run will pan out.  The thing is, Run, Rabbit, Run does NOT have the option to drop to lower mileage, so I'm stuck in the 100 mile distance IF I AM EVEN going to run it.  There are doubts. . . I spend the summer taking a construction class in Denver to learn the basics of the building trade and work a couple months with a framing crew on a condominium project in Lo-Hi.  It's hotter than Hell most days.   The pain in my right foot and the somewhat train-wreck attempt at Collegiate Peaks made me realize I needed to take it easier. . . not run so much.  I do start to get out again - running along Cherry Creek, the trails of Green Mountain, on the treadmills at gyms.  My foot feels better a bit, and I'm encouraged that I can at least take the chance and make an attempt at Run, Rabbit, Run.

Run, Rabbit, Run 100 Course Profile

I leave Denver (the place was awfully crowded anyhow) and head northwest to Steamboat Springs for the Run, Rabbit, Run 2017 ultramarathon.  Smoke from forest fires is abundant in the Rocky Mountain air - there are numerous fires throughout the state, including a bad one right by Steamboat.  On the morning of the race, however, the wind changes and the air clears, much to the relief of the runners & race directors.   I had decided to invest in shoes with thicker soles to protect my feet from further injury (settled on a pair of Altras that were a similar model to the ones Jason Schlarb wore when he set the course record for Run, Rabbit, Run 100 a few years previous).   Combining that with Injini toe-sock liners worn beneath merino wool running socks DID do wonders for my feet - I finished without gaining a single blister!  And by finished I mean technically Did Not Finish or "DNF" for short.  However, I got a little over 70 miles through the course, which was and is the longest I've ever run.  And boy, is it a whopper of course, with a total of about 20,000 feet of ascent and 20,000 feet of descent (lots of mountains!).

Courtney got the "blue ribbon" at Run, Rabbit Run that day.

I had a blast.  The first 30 miles felt the best, which is probably why I've now settled on 50K ultras as my preferred race distance these days (I've run three of them in the past two years).  I did over-exert my body again this past spring when I raced in the Behind-the-Rocks 50K just a week after running the Canyonlands Half-Marathon, and working on my feet every day in between.  Did I injure my feet?  No.  But was the second half of the 50K much fun?  No.  Did it hinder the potential for finishing in faster time.  YES.  It took me over an hour longer than my previous two 50Ks, and not because I'd lost by ability for speed, but rather because I did not give myself the rest that I needed for optimal race-mode.  Over-extension, over-doing it. . . overdose.

That's how we learn though, isn't it?  Trial & error.  Thankfully, I wasn't injured permanently.  Now that I give myself the rest I need and mostly wear beefy-soled Altras instead of "barefoot" type footwear my soles aren't bashed at so intensely (though I do like to throw the Vibrams 5-Fingers on from time-to-time for the free-toe feel and to strengthen muscles that benefit from barefoot running).   I'm not sure I'll attempt a 100 mile race again, but perhaps have a go at a 50 miler.  As endurance athletes, we're ever tempted to push our limits, but cannot know what those limits are until we've pushed ourselves far past the "comfort zone."

The careful dance of pushing limits & recharging accordingly.

P.S. If you're curious to absorb a most inspiring tale of endurance legend, look up Courtney Dauwalter's account of how she went blind and bashed her head during that Run, Rabbit, Run 2017 race but still managed victory, and then went on to smother the competition at the inaugural Moab 240 just a month later (or listen to it on the Joe Rogan Experience podcast episode with her as guest). 

Born Too Spun

Today, as I set out from Rotary Park for a five-mile run up Mill Creek Rim & back, a dear friend of mine sent me a text saying he's ". . . been thinking about maybe getting into running this year.  Any advice would be helpful.  Diet maybe - or philosophy?"  This communique immediately filled me with joy, for it boosted my motivation to run as well as got the gears turning on a blog that's been kicking around my brain the last few days.  Ladies and Gentlemen, this is for the born-too-spun:

By Android Jones (https://androidjones.com/)

And just what am I talking about, anyhow?  Well, let's revisit our Kosmic Blue Titan from the last blog, who's persistently running around the extra-galactic track in order to pump his heart so that we might be born & live & die within the Big-Bang of his heart.  Now you see him again in the image here . . but he's spinning discs.  Yes, our overlord titan is DJing tracks of fierce rhythm to make The Eternal Jog not only exercise but a Cosmic Rave!  (image credit: Android Jones).  Which is to say, my first advice to my friend who has inquired and is an avid raver himself, is that the joy in running is similar to the bliss we find on the dance-floor at festivals and parties.

Possessed by rhythm at the inaugural Bass Center.

In my first blog I mentioned that the "runner's high" is what gripped me - what kept my coming back for more.  It was not just the high isolated, but rather in combination with the music in my earbuds which was, at the time, Soul Coughing's album El Oso.  While Soul Coughing is a full band with instruments & vocals rather than an EDM producer, that album is heavily influenced by the dance music style of "drum & bass" (or "dnb" for short).  Fast-forward to a few years later when I am first beginning a steady cardio routine in my second season (2010) working at Yellowstone National Park, and I have bought Bassnectar's album Cozza Frenzy through the fairly novel (at the time) medium of electronic download.  I use the stair-stepper at the gym in Mammoth Hot Springs or jog up & down Old Gardiner road, entranced with this fresh sound I am hearing in Bassnectar's tracks. This heavy "dnb" style along with the tribal textures & far-out lyrical content from various underground rappers is uber-motivating. . . motivation-to-motion.  This is what EDM is all about.  I doubt I would have got into dnb and then also dubstep (which is generally a slowed-down version of drum & bass), glitch-hop, house, etc. if I hadn't been MOVING.   My brother joined me at the first Bass Center festival in Broomfield and, while he's never been much of a bass-head himself, could tell that "something was going on there." (he took the photo above.  He also encouraged me to start this blog.  Thanks, Paul!).   

English DJ Hatcha performing in NOLA.

The mixture of endorphins released on the run combined with bass-tracks is why I do what I do.  So my first advice to my friend (who is a dedicated "bass-head" and will travel far & wide to see Bassnectar all over the states) is to utilize the music we love to dance-for-days-to out on the trail.  Get a small mp3 player or a phone that can attach to you in some way & hit the dirt.  I suggest finding a trail with rolling hills to get a roller-coaster effect on training runs.  I've found the "rolling-coaster" is the best ergonomically & makes the expedition very fun (in Salida, CO Backbone or Little Rainbow trails are both excellent.  In Moab I suggest Pipe Dream.  Horsetooth Reservoir area is great in Fort Collins, just watch out for big cats.  In Denver I suggest Green Mountain trails or Lookout Mountain in Golden.  Yellowstone is a little tricky because of all the dangerous animals, but Old Gardiner Road between Mammoth Hot Springs & Gardiner, MT has enough visibility to be mostly safe.  New Orleans is very flat & that's one of the main reasons I left).   Purchase some bass-savvy earbuds (there are many on the market these days, I've been satisfied with Yurbuds), charge up the ipod, and hit the trail day-after-day.  Find some quality shoes that are comfortable & can grip out in the bush (I use Altras because I like the wider toe-box).  You'll overcome the initial discomfort in capillaries opening up in your chest the first week.  As you initiate your mind to discover the runner's high, you'll want more & more.  Push yourself to the point where you're elated:  ecstatic-in-motion.  Remember The Blue Titan. . . imagine the Big Banging heart. . . imagine him at the decks, throwing on your favorite remix.  Cozza mutha fckn' frenzy, cuz baby we were born too spun!

I highly suggest anyone who wants encouragement for trail-running read Christopher McDougal's Born To Run.  He posits that we're "born to run" - showing evolutionary evidence for how endurance-running made Homo Sapiens who they are, and how our ability to out-last our prey on the hunt gave us the upper-hand (er, foot).  In the same way, I emphasize that our desire for rhythm (think early tribal drum circles) pushes us to move & sculpts us to grow into splendidly fit meat-machines.  The sensation I would feel when I lived in New Orleans & stayed up for three days going to rave-after-rave and dancing my heart out / banging my head off, is the sensation I feel at mile 22 of a marathon, Infected Mushroom or Excision blasting in my ears.  Gaining a habit of trail-running will, for the rave-inclined, give a healthy outlet for enjoying the tracks you love but out in nature with sunshine & mountains rather that in a dingy club fueled by Red Bull, tequila, and MDMA (not that that isn't fun, but we need healthy alternatives for a balanced lifestyle).

May The Blerch be with you.

While Matthew Inman (a steady ultra-runner) would disagree with me about utilizing music on the run (he thinks it "distracts from THE REAL PAIN"), I suggest anyone starting out in endurance running read his hysterical comic series on why he runs:  https://theoatmeal.com/comics/running.  As my curious friend knows, finding the absurdity in any endeavor is of top-shelf importance (the character to the right is the motivational "cupid-demon" from The Oatmeal, The Blerch). 


In other blogs I'll touch on nutrition, shoes, mileage, etc., but hopefully Born Too Spun shines light on the core of what can drive us to move, and how our festival / club spirit applies to day-to-day exercise which will eventually get you to sign up for a 10K or half-marathon.  And then in no time you'll be cruising 50Ks, wondering how you got in such damn good shape, and feeding on high-calorie feasts to fuel the frenzy.




In addition to Soul Coughing's "El Oso" and Bassnectar's "Cozza Frenzy," here are some of my other favorite abrasive-bass albums to jam on the trail:  Infected Mushroom's "Army of Mushrooms" and "Friends on Mushrooms."  Bassnectar's "Reflective Part 3."  Anything by The Crystal Method.  Dirtwire's "Showdown."  Feed Me's "Existential Crisis."  Daft Punk's "Alive 2007."  Most GRiZ albums.  Liquid Stranger's "Weird & Wonderful."  "DeadLanguage" by Mr. Bill & Esseks.  Nine Inch Nails' "Things Falling Apart."  Anything by Rezz.  Anything by SoDown.  Tipper's "Tip Hop."  Here is a mixtape I put together with heavy bass tracks made specifically for running / exercise:  

https://soundcloud.com/peer-broozer/jock-jams-for-bass-gypsies

Inspiration, Mythology, Aspiration

In the early days of my time living in Salida, CO (2014) my roommate showed me a story that Aubrey Marcus told on The Joe Rogan Experience podcast describing his revelations while in the grips of an Iboga trip (Iboga is a plant which contains ibogaine, which is in a class of chemicals known as psychedelics or entheogens.  These chemicals cause increased awareness, consciousness, and in higher doses can lead to full-on out-of-body visions).  Here is Aubrey's story (from https://www.aubreymarcus.com/blogs/aubrey-marcus/truth-in-ibogas-eden):

 I first saw the big bang… Near infinite planets and worlds exploding out from a single point and hurling into space. As they moved many of them would spark life, and that life would spark more life. But eventually the momentum would wane. The planets would reach their outer extremity and then slowly they would start to retract. Then the retraction would gain momentum, exactly converse in momentum to the explosion of the big bang, and like candles on the back of a fast moving car, life itself would extinguish. Faster and faster the planets would suck inward until they once again reached a single point. Then BOOM, another big bang. This was a heartbeat, and the heart itself was in the barrel-chest of a translucent blue Titan… And this titan was methodically running. The Titan was God, and the heart keeps pumping as long as he is running. That is the force behind life. God’s love is the commitment to never stop running. But just as this image was starting to sink in, I realized there were thousands of blue Titans, each with their own universe hearts, running around a track in a race that never ends. And then of course, there were thousands of tracks. That is the nature of infinity.

This reading immediately fascinated me.  In college I minored in religious studies, and have ever had a passion for reading & understanding the mythologies of different people & cultures which use archetypal symbols & characters to explain what we're doing here in this existence.  In Marcus' tale of The Blue Titan, there is a new idea of a god, and it includes the Big Bang as his heart and him being The Runner that pumps such heart!  Now I have literal visionary inspiration to run.  When I hit the trails in my red gym shorts along The Arkansas River & smile with endorphins as the hound Molly (my Salida running companion, who recently passed) takes turns galloping in front of or behind me, I imagine The Blue Titan - our Cosmos the heart - the more he runs & faster the more he keeps up against the other Titans!  In studying mythology, we accept that no one story tells a complete truth, but rather that a given myth is revealed to drive the people that need it in that time & place.  

Now here is a myth for us in these modern times.  A reminder to exercise - to move your heart & blood, that you to might be as The Blue Titan who keeps our very planets & stars in motion.  I think often of this myth each time I run.  It was the catalyst that got me really moving on the trails of The Arkansas River Valley, and pushed me to aspire to being more than the downtown drunk, more than the lost wanderer, more than the disenchanted suburban kid. 

Now I cannot be too lazy for too long. . . if I am, I will betray what I know to be God: the inter-cosmic running titan.  I am grateful to Aubrey Marcus for sharing this vision, and grateful to Joe Rogan for creating his podcast which is a platform for inspiring us to be the best we can be in the health of body & mind.  The population of this planet desperately need to receive new wisdom in a time that we can no longer depend on the old systems which no longer serve us.  

"I pump my legs to thee, O Kosmic Titan!"

On the wild steppes, history vanishes in the dust.  Only the mythmakers remain to say what was, and is, and will be.  from Magic: the Gathering card "Nomad Mythmaker."

Haste in The Furnace

Here is the account of my recent outing into Fiery Furnace:

 When driving along the 18 mile paved road that traverses Arches National Park, my eye often catches a feature in the landscape that is known as The Fiery Furnace.  I've stopped & taken photos from the viewpoint, but never delved INTO the region, as it requires a day-use permit from a ranger at the visitor center.  Today I am off from work & am going to take advantage of the low rate of visitors that Arches experiences in January & February.  A young ranger informs me that a hiking permit for Fiery Furnace is mine if I pay a $6 fee & watch a short video.  The video is fairly painless, and she comes in when it is over to reinforce some of the bullet points (mostly: "Mind the cryptobiotic soil.  Don't poop out there, please").

One of the guiding arrows

I tie the permit to my little runner's backpack & hit the road for Fiery Furnace (a 14 mile drive from the park's visitor center).  While it may be a more wise decision to slowly hike through The Furnace on one's first visit, I'm craving getting my legs up to speed for the thrill that is running in the wild desert.  There's no exact trail with blazes & cairns to follow, but rather minuscule light-brown plaques with white directional arrows to point me in a suggested route.  The ranger I'd got my permit from encouraged me to "get off path" to some extent. . . ". . . That's what The Furnace is all about - open exploration."  She said the "Dead End" signs are mostly off-shoot trails that will lead to an arch.

Skull Arch

The first run through takes me over an hour & nearly 4 miles of jogging, trotting, and turning around when I don't seen an arrow in a while.  The features are gawk-worthy - many mushroom-esque stone spires which turn from beige to a "fiery" light orange & rusty red at the top.  I'm not able to move in a way to keep my BPM in a consistent cardio-zone, but am realizing how much fun it is getting dizzy & lost in this maze.  I run into another party eventually, and the folks are caught in a dilemma where an arrow seems to point towards a path which turns into a dark, steep crevasse.  "We've been here nearly 35 minutes." I take a try at descending in this spot & terminate my attempt quickly. . . there's no way it can be a "suggested route," it's far too dangerous of a drop to pursue without ropes.  When I trace back to the last arrow & veer to the right instead of left towards the crevasse, I see the next intended arrow high on a stone wall pointing to guide the explorer in another direction.  I inform the disoriented party about the arrow and am off running again, to get lost a few more times before  completing the counter-clockwise loop & reaching the parking lot.  The weather is optimal for a day out in the desert & I want to milk my hiking permit, so after I stop at my minivan to charge the phone & eat a snack I give the route another go, curious to test how my time & mileage changes now that I'm a bit more familiar with where the arrows are at.  It takes me just a little over 20 minutes with a total distance of about 1.5 miles.  I still stumble into a few wrong turns I have to reverse from, and also stop my timer to take a look down a "Dead End" path where I will find "Skull Arch" (one of the guys in the group I'd run into earlier tipped me off to it).

First Go

Take Two

The Fiery Furnace is quite the playground for an Arches visitor that is looking for more of a challenge & spontaneous exploration rather than just a rigidly marked trail to follow.  I enjoyed running through it, although it's probably best as a slower hike or canyoneering expedition with the right gear.

Rim Valley Dream Creek

Some of these blog entries will highlight my favorite runs around the town of Moab.  Here is the account of yesterday's trek:

Moab Rim > Hidden Valley > Pipe Dream > Kane Creek Blvd.





One can start & finish this loop from a number of locations (all of which include ample parking for any size vehicle).  I choose to start at the "Moab Rim" trailhead on Kane Creek Blvd. - just a mile or so outside of town (If heading south on Main Street, take a right on the road in between McDonalds & Burger King. . . this is Kane Creek Blvd.)  This is my favorite starting point because you climb about 900 feet in the first mile.  It really gets the cardio pumping!  From this trailhead a hiker / runner has the option of the wide & edgy slickrock jeep trail known as "Moab Rim," or the singletrack "Stairmaster" option.  I choose "Stairmaster"  and am able to somewhat run for the first half of the climb, and then switch to a fast hike to finish my way to the top.  There is some packed snow. . . not much ice really - and plenty of clear earth / rock where the sun has melted any frozen water away.

Once at the top of "Stairmaster" it's worth taking a minute or two to gaze at the 360 degree views.  It's a clear, sunny day & I can see Arches Nat. Park in the distance when I look to the north.  Across the river, "Little Arch" is visible at the top of the red stone wall.  The La Sal range is to the east.  At this point I lose my long-sleeve undershirt since the path from here to "Hidden Valley" is upon an exposed plateau.  Here "Stairmaster" converges into the "Moab Rim" Jeep trail (as seen in photo to the right).  For the next mile there is gradual up-and-downs with some tricky footwork areas for sure (careful not to twist an ankle).  A fork breaks off where I choose to veer right as to gain higher elevation up more slickrock (veering to the left takes one on the "Sand Hill" route which I don't find preferable to run or hike on).   At the highest point of the loop I can see parts of Dead Horse Point State Park & Canyonlands Nat. Park  to my south-west.  Here I take a break to munch some dark chocolate, pretzels, and gummy worms.  I take sips of water here & there, but am not finding myself too thirsty since temperatures are not getting above high 30s or maybe 40 degrees Fahrenheit.

At the high-point of the loop: looking towards
Hidden Valley 

Another mile or so & the "Moab Rim" trail is now "Hidden Valley" trail.  It remains on exposed slickrock & directs me into a wash where cairns guide the runner along the path.  As I leave the slickrock wash & enter Hidden Valley, the elevation goes up slightly before dropping & the sun hides behind a wall of rock.  Hidden Valley is still covered with a white blanket of crunchy snow, but the trail has been used enough that shoes hit & bounce back without sinking in much (hard-packed snow is one of my favorite surfaces to run on).  Its about a mile or so to get through the Valley where I pick up considerable speed since it is so flat, and then begins the steep decent down to the "Pipe Dream / Hidden Valley" trailhead parking lot.  Here some of the boulders that make the trail are ice-coated & so I am careful where I step, though I try to keep considerable speed.  I've made it a personal challenge over the last few years to get fast down these steep, somewhat dangerous rocky sections of trail.  I've found in races that this technique is very useful in getting past some competitors who are not far ahead.

Along "Pipe Dream," looking north.

It's nice to be getting a tan on in the sunshine again after the chilly shadowland of the valley.  Upon reaching the trailhead ("Hidden Valley / Pipe Dream" parking lot, off of Rim Rock Lane off of Angel Rock Rd. off of 191 if one drives there), I am quite excited because I get to enter the "Pipe Dream" trail, which I've found to be one of the most enjoyable, mellow running trails near town.  It is rolling foothills that rise and fall gradually, and today the conditions are better than I would have expected for late January.  Much of the snow & ice has completely melted away leaving dirt that is not muddy, but moist enough to be firm under foot.  There are snowy sections, but it is packed snow that is easy to run on.  I manage to complete the "Pipe Dream" section without falling once (when I ran this trail last week, I bit some dirt on an icy turn).  When "Pipe Dream" nears town, there are several off-shoot trails that get you off the trail and onto roads.  I choose the "Aspen Ave." route, and am quickly pounding pavement for the next couple miles to get back to the Moab Rim trailhead where I started (Aspen Ave. > S. Mountain View Drive > Kane Creek Blvd.)

One of the many petroglyphs (a bear's paw) near Hidden Valley.

Parts of this loop can be done in isolation.  Sometimes I will just go up & down "Stairmaster" to get a quick hill-climb workout, or even at a slower hiking pace to enjoy a sunset.  "Pipe Dream" is convenient particularly because it can be accessed from in-town.  "Hidden Valley" from the parking lot trailhead is a great morning hike /run, as the sun will shine on the trail which climbs up into Hidden Valley.   There is also a vast wall of native petroglyphs at the end of the "Hidden Valley" trail, if the traveler veers to the right and goes towards the wall, instead of veering straight / left towards the "Moab Rim" trail. 

"Stairmaster" trail is a great spot to watch Jeeps
crawl on the "Moab Rim" trail (Moab Jeep Safari '18)

Roots to Run Upon.

If you told 15-year-old Me that I would run a marathon some day I wouldn't believe you (even if you had a functional flux-capacitor in your vehicle).  Then if you said I'd even run races longer than marathons in the mountains, I'd probably scoff & go home to a family-sized bag of Doritos Cooler Ranch & a 2-liter Mountain Dew.  At that age I had just given up on playing junior-varsity lacrosse since I was such a lousy runner.  Attending practice & not getting play-time in games wore away at my self-esteem & felt like a waste of time.  I preferred hiding in my parents' basement to scarf down snacks & delve into level after level of computer strategy games like Warcraft II & Alpha Centauri.  So what changed 15 years later to make me so enthralled with trail-running that my day-to-day life would begin to revolve around it - to make me feel complete, even?

The initial spark (and I'm sure what grabs & hooks most runners) was my first time experiencing a "runner's high."  I am perhaps 23 or 24 years old & running loops around the Centerville Elementary / Middle School campus near my parents' house in Lancaster, PA.  The terrain around these schools is soft & grassy, with gradual hills that are common in this Piedmont Region.  I have headphones plugged into an ipod with Soul Coughing's El Oso album playing at about an hour into the run when I feel ELATED all of the sudden.  It is a new sensation & I want more!  I actually DESIRE to keep going & milking the exercise for whatever ecstasy can be obtained.  In the past running was always a chore, a pain, something forced on me. . . something to be avoided at all costs.  I don't realize at the time, but the combination of environmental factors involved at this moment is what I would forever seek in my runs: elevation gain & loss, earthy surface (as opposed to asphalt / track), cooler temperature (it was night time on this run though I can't remember what season), and rhythm-heavy music in the earbuds.

Fast-forward to me at age 29 & I've just moved to Salida, CO after tramping around for a few years working in various resort / tourist areas (In those "tramping years" I would run at times but never had made it a regular habit or competitive sport.  In Yellowstone I often ran from Mammoth Hot Springs to Gardiner, MT on Old Gardiner Road {saw a badger once on that trail}.  In New Orleans I remember running down St. Charles Ave. when Mardi Gras was just over & gazing bedazzled at all of the shining beads that had tangled into the trees' branches & twigs.)  My roommate plays an audio recording for me in which Joe Rogan tells a story about a vision he saw whilst in the grips of an ibogaine trip, and I realize that running might be as close as we get to godliness (more on this in another blog entry).  I begin finding the joy of longer runs among Salida's trails in the "S Mountain" and "Methodist Mountain" systems.  Where I once used to eat too many snacks & spend too much time at computer games, in these days I find myself imbibing too much alcohol at too many nights spent at the bars for too many hours.  While trail-running doesn't cure this problem all at once, it beings to give me something else to spend my time on.  It provides a new neurotransmitter reward source besides coffee, beer, & nicotine.   And you get to be out in the mountains, pumping the heart, listening to music, while watching the horizon transform at each bend of single-track & each hour that ticks towards twilight. 

I read a book by Dean Karnazes about "ultra running."  It begins to show the potential of human endurance.  I run more days & stay out longer when I do.  I read a book by Christopher McDougal.  I run my first marathon.  I read a books by Charlie Engle & Kilian Jornet.  The authors motivate more & more as well as entertain with the heroic stories that runners grow through.  Many are narratives of personal victory, while others are studies of how running relates to us anthropologically or physiologically.  Nothing is better fuel for understanding what I am capable of in my own pursuits as a now trail-race competitor.  I'm Peter Panic (AKA Pete Brewer AKA Peer Broozer) and in homage to these writers (and with a push from my brother)  I begin this runner's blog.