It seems as if its been months (which it probably has) since I've made a post here. Finally have time on my Bishop climbing trip here to catch up on all my recent adventures but the first thing I came across was my Imogene photos so lets start there.
My running so far had been a more personal experience and a focused effort in running for myself and a great attempt to get out into the forest to places I have yet to go. Racing was one of those things that I had never done and due to my competitiveness in climbing, knew that I would eventually do with running. So knowing this I set my sights on the regionally popular Imogene Pass Run that goes from Ouray, CO to Telluride, CO. The race is 17.1 miles (10 miles up, 7 miles down) and reaches an elevation of 13,500 ft. So I trained, did my motions to get ready for the event and it was finally here. For the first time in a long while I was extremely nervous about the event the next day. I have never been in a foot race and I was completely unsure how everything would unfold.
The old man jumped in the race last minute. Due to the fact he was already sporting a warriors beard, he was not scared and is seen here imparting sagely advice to a young son that lacked such a powerful facial feature.
All ready for the early morning, everything was laid out so we could grab everything and go.
Prior to the start of the race I was thinking that I would be able to grab all sorts of beautiful photographs of the race but as soon as things started, it was obvious to me that these starting photos would be the last photos I would take of the entire race. It was quite an incredible and terrible experience at the same time. When I began running it was about solitude and losing yourself in your own mind in the depth of the forest and here I was on a road with 1200 people getting ready to race up a dirt road for 17.1 miles...crazy and surreal experience is the only way to define it. Definitely not the way I want to always run but valuable in its own way.
A nervous Zak getting ready to make a fool of himself.
The goal of the race was to complete this in under 4 hours, it seemed a decent and reasonable goals based off some of my recent training. I could recount my entire race but I think that might take pages and pages. I found that in general I was performing much to my expectations. Right about the 5-6 mile mark is where the elevation gain began to take hold and I found myself walking a lot more than I had wanted but looking around at all the other hundreds of people around me...walking was the norm. I could tell that I had reached the point of delerium around a mile to the summit when I had ripped the top off of a Gu and then forgot I had it in my hand...five minutes later I remembered due to the fact the Gu had been crushed and dripped down my hand and all over my shorts. It was exciting to finally see the summit and to have people cheering us to the top.
Prior to the race I had felt that reaching the summit would be my crux and that my downhill skills would rocket me to the finish. Throughout the race I had wanted to take photos and take in the scenery but as it turns out, my competitive side pushed through I found myself so focused that even on the summit I allowed only a brief over the shoulder glimpse of the amazing valley and mountain range below. It was on the way down I quickly realized that the sheer brutality of the way up had devastated my legs and I immediately began to have trouble on the downhill. Add to that, my stomach decided that it was time to make me feel like I needed to throw up. From what I have read, throwing up on a race can be a great way to reset the stomach and get things back to normal...but for some reason I didn't have the courage to make myself vomit (which ended up being a huge mistake) and instead endured the painful trudge down the mountain. I found myself walking a majority of the way down but pushing through to the finish i found myself coming in at my target time still. I finished with a 3:53 and a 4 hour long stomach ache. But the glory was there, I accomplished my goal I didn't injure myself in the process. Never thought I would say I was proud of 412th place, but out of 1200-1300 people, I will take it.
This is the rear view of the finish line, I was hoping to catch my old man on his way in, but I spend most of my time on my hands and knees and laying down attempting to subdue my stomach and I ended up missing the photo op.
