Zircon's Observations

Another one in the books.

2010-06-04T17:53:00.000-07:00

Just closed out another school year today. This year was a great one. Got through National Boards and this group makes me wish I could follow them up through the grade levels. They all got to evaluate me on the last day. Then, what began as a lark six years ago during my first year at Valle Crucis was tradition upheld, I asked each class to do their best Mr. Hiatt impressions. I guess I caught this group pretty off guard or maybe it's a testament to their sweet nature but they made fun of themselves and each other more in their impressions of me. Usually kids who really get into this are the ones I have harped on all year long for one thing or another. Most of the time these impressions give quite the insight into the world through their lense. Some of the kids who have given me the hardest time throughout the year usually do the best and most entertaining impressions. I guess they spend a lot of time rehearsing with friends and family. Either way its always a nice pressure release for the end of the year.

Twelve Years Ago Today

2010-05-16T04:59:00.000-07:00

12 years ago today I graduated from college, went out to lunch with my family and then they departerd. An hour or so late I climbed into the back-seat of my friend Dan's Cheve Corsica and settled in for the short drive down to Asheville in the company of a beautiful young thing who I wowed with my mastery of 80's music lyrics. We ended up at the JCC contra dance in Asheville with a sizeable Boone contingent and had a blast dancing through the night. Post dance we grabbed a beer at Barleys before heading down to a friend's lake house in Brevard. The rest is history. Amy and I met and life has never been the same. Two beautiful reminders of our love rule most of our lives these days and neither one of us would have it any other way.

A sound of summer

2010-05-11T15:41:00.000-07:00

I was sitting on the front porch last week in that peaceful hour between putting the kids down for bed and complete darkness. I was looking out over a pasture fairly glowing with green and the hints of leaves budded and almost ready to unfurl in the woods at the edge of the yard. A few juncos were at the feeders and a beautiful indigo bunting was nervously flitting back and forth between the farthest feeder on the porch and a few trees that gave him a good vantage point on the whole scene. There was a small amount of background noise from the creek across the way and some distant chirping when I heard it. A ghostly spiralling etherial call floated through the dusky air signalling for me an early beginning to Summer thoughts. It was the call of a lone veery sung out from the shelter of the deep woods. Amy and I call it "our bird". A playful reminder of when we both seemed to become aware of its haunting call during our first summer together twelve years ago. Its song seemed to follow us nearly everywhere we went that fine Summer (perhaps a testament to how much time we spent outside together during our courtship) Since that time we always seem to hear this call distinctly during our Summers in the high country. It is a seasonal song usually heard from the deep shaded green darkness of the trees. I have never actually seen the bird itself. Perhaps I have heard it this early before but with the leaves still yet to fully burst forth up here it seems a little early. Nonetheless, I am always glad to hear it and it never fails to make me smile.

Dusting...

2010-04-08T07:48:00.000-07:00

Well this has certainly been neglected for quite some time. It's not as if there hasn't been anything going on. Perhaps it was just time for some balance. But now I think it's time to get back to this. I'm coming out of a fog. This winter has been a cloud of pressure. National Boards was although an alltogether positive experience still like lugging an imaginary elephant about in my day to day life. There was the physical presence of my old green messenger bag toting two binders worth of information I rarely ever looked at but felt naked without ready access to them both. This winter any other year would have been something I couldn't have dreamt up in my wildest imagination. I still tried to take advantage when I could but felt hindered. Not that I really did alot early on except worry about if it would all get done. I still got quite a bit of use out of my skins and skis in the old Christmas tree farm/ development just up the ridge from the house. Although short, the outings were always sweet and got me out even on some of the coldest days with my faithful companion Palmer who loved to try and bite the heels of my boots as he charged down the fall line to cut off my arcing turns. What an epic winter. I definitely got some great days in with new friends and old. Winter culminated with a trip out to Utah with Ryan, his friend Jimmy, and my old neighbor Paul from Idaho. We stayed at my cousin's condo in Solitude and skied four days at three different resorts. Needless to say, the free heel affliction has become a chronic condition. I'm hooked for sure. It was great getting to see Mom and Grandma on our last evening there.

Now it feels like summer already and with the sun I am awakening. Life has charged forward in most excellent ways. Swimming lessons are under way and should finish next week. T-ball began this past week and Carter is psyched. He also rode his bike without training wheels on Friday of course we have no pictures of this momentous event or his subsequent Greenway ride yesterday. We did get out for a Price Lake jaunt Gracen's first real hike all by herself. I hope this is a sign of what's in store for us this summer. Yes we are already training for our Western adventure. This time we will have a trailer in tow for some extended camping. We are all so excited we just can't stand it.

Free Heel Fever

2009-03-03T16:13:00.000-08:00

I've gone and done it. Against my better judgement I have acquired a new passionate hobby. I'm blaming a whole host of people on this one. I'm not going down alone here. I've been surrounded by these crazy tele people for a while now and I guess they've finally whittled down the resistance. I'm convinced it's some sinister plot. Whatever the circumstances I am now the proud owner of a complete telemark ski set-up. Skis, bindings, boots, and poles (and some ascension climbing skins). There's even a helmet to keep me from completely destroying myself. I thought for sure that my gear acquisition would certainly have doomed us to a quick, warm, and snowless spring. However, apparently someone had other plans as we got the biggest dump of snow in the past ten years Sunday. We got over ten inches at the house and I was actually worried that I might not make it to the resort to take advantage. Thank goodness for the best all-wheel-drive vehicle in the world. The sube was a champ and got me down the back way to meet Todd Nolt, Lynn Willis, Corie Klamborowski, Nick (Todd's cousin-in-law), Shack and Ahn at the old caboose site on 105 to carpool up to Sugar Mtn. We ended up meeting up with Rich and Heidi Campbell, Mike and Susan Trew, Burton Mumaw, and two other guys who just all happened to be skiing tele. It was an incredible day of conditions and company on the mountain to enjoy breaking in new skis and equipment and beginning to find the groove of the free heel turn. In short I'm hooked. It will probably be the last day of the season but I'll hang onto this good vibe well into next winter.

EPIC (A Story of Appalachian Alpine Adventure)

2009-01-18T14:03:00.000-08:00

I have lived in North Carolina (more appropriately the mountains of NC) now for longer than I have lived anywhere in my life. Although I grew up in California and spent all of my memorable childhood there, it is really these mountains and the experiences I have shared with good friends here that have shaped me as a climber and outdoor enthusiast. I started ice climbing in college, as just one of the many new and challenging outdoor experiences I gained since moving out to NC over sixteen years ago this past December. I have really grown to love the sport of ice climbing even if it is not an activity that is always readily available to climbers in the South. Maybe that is something that ads to the attraction of each experience you get out here. Climactic conditions as well as a schedule coinciding with those conditions makes for a normal ice season of anywhere from 0-10 decent days of climing any given year. I am very fortunate to live within relatively easy driving distance of at least a couple of enjoyable ice crags. Talking with other climbers there are a lot of stories out there about ice climbing in the South. Some are true and some are the stuff of myth and legend. So when I heard the tales of a 2000 foot ice climb in our very own Western NC, I was more than a little skeptical.

My friends Lynn and Jasyn have spent the last three years trying to find this elusive beast and after last year's experiences had narrowed the location down with a little helpful beta from a climber in Asheville who had actually done the climb and some verification from a few other reputable sources I was feeling pretty good about the validity of the claims. Weather conditions this past week had lows in the low single digits and even subzero range for a few days in a row. Rather conveniently this weather window happened to time perfectly with the weekend. A plan was formed mid-week that included Lynn, Jasyn, another friend Pace, and myself. I was told to expect a very long day. Headlamps and extra warm clothes were mandatory as it was likely we wouldn't top out until the very end of the day and would be descending in the dark. All of us showed up at Lynn's house at 6 a.m. Saturday morning well prepared and psyched. We made it to a church parking lot in the community of Celo Knob the northernmost high point in the Black Mountain Range which includes Mt. Mitchell the highest peak east of the Mississippi. After a quick scout of a local waterfall on private property that was for sale, we headed back to the church to sort gear and do the final load of packs. We were out and walking on the trail by somewhere between 9 and 9:30 a.m. Although we traveled over terrain mostly devoid of trails, the going was not too bad. We made good time and were to the base of the gully we were to climb by 11, and although there was already a party of two not far ahead of us (one of whom happened to be the guy who had given Jasyn and Lynn the beta) we were climbing by 11:30. We roped up in teams of two each team tied into a single 50m 8mm line doubled over. That left about 80 ft. of climbing before you were simul-climbing with your partner. The terrain was like a very steep frozen creek bed with mostly low angle thick ice that poured over drops of 10-20 ft. every hundred or so feet. As the lead team passed gear they simply unclipped and allowed the following team to sport clip the in-situ gear. It was a great system that had all four of us about a third of the way up the climb in a couple of hours of sustained effort. Jasyn who lead the first mega-block with me following, cruised like a champion moving very efficiently. Lynn and Pace followed quickly behind us and those first two hours were a very satisfying feeling of continual movement over good ice with enough vertical steps to spice things up just enough. The temps were perfect probably in the high teens although none of us felt cold under the constant movement. After somewhere between 600-800 feet of climbing Jasyn began to run out of gear to place and the flow became extremely thin to where we needed to walk around to reach the next section of ice. There we switched team positions and Lynn and Pace took the lead with me in front with Jasyn trailing. Another 4-500 ft. up we caught up with the party above us who were bailing at about 4 p.m. for a commitment in Asheville. We decided to continue on and up not knowing the next time any of us would have the opportunity to be on such a magnificent climb. We had been well warned about a heinous bushwack to eventually reach the top but all of us agreed that we had come to do the climb, felt we had the time to continue, and were prepared to finish the descent in the dark. An hour or so later our progress had slowed considerably and as the sun departed the temps began to drop making the ever thinning ice to become increasingly brittle. At some point as Lynn led a steep and sustained section Jasyn and I decided that we were running out of time to continue and that it was questionable how much longer the gully would hold climbable ice. We decided to unrope stash most of our gear in the packs and scramble up the side of the gully in the woods trying to keep up with Lynn and Pace.

Begin Epic. While in the woods which were a steep collection of rododendron thickets and other small brambles growing out of a 45-50 degree slope of frozen turf mixed with sections of slabs thinly iced over or covered with old powder snow, I was lured further away from the gully trying to make vertical progress. Jasyn remained alongside the gully trying to stay within sight of Lynn and Pace. My forray ended up committing me to some pretty exposed turf and ledge link-ups that I had no interest in trying to reverse. Long story short I was now committed to my own personal rodo-grovel bushwack hell. And of course I had no-one to blame but myself. Jasyn decided to drop back into the gully with Pace and Lynn following their own sketchy turf climbing nightmare albeit he was now unroped with a nice precipitous tumbling drop below him. The next two hours were spent battling upwards with fully loaded pack through surprisingly resilient and springy underbrush between exposed steps of sketchy turf climbing. About every fifteen minutes or so one of the others would yell at me to make sure I was still ok and near them. I began trying to angle up and to the right hoping eventually to meet the gully they were in but it never happened. By 6:30 the rest of the team had abandoned the gully and was now heading up and left to intercept my path. In the failing light I was able to calm myself enough to find a small clearing, sit down, take stock, eat and drink a little, find my headlamp in the growing dark and even get fresh batteries into it albeit at the end by feel. About 45 minutes later I could see Jasyn's glowing headlamp approaching from below and to the side from the gully. I could also hear him battling the same style of thickets I had been fully enmeshed with for the past hour or so. Lynn and Pace were not far behind him. As I waited I started to get a little cold, so it was difficult to not want to launch onward and upward as soon as he got there just to get warm again. Did I mention the snow had started to fall? Nothing big just a light but steady stream of small flaked that glinted dazzlingly off our headlamp beams.
By 7:30 we were regrouped and I was happy to turn over the route finding to anyone willing. Jasyn first and then later Pace would weave us through the thickets with a seeming sixth sense, that still involved the occasional grovel but a much less intense battle than I had performed on my own. Of course maybe it was just that I now had three companions to share the misery with and just follow blindly. After a seemingly endless hours of weaving ever upwards I took over the lead again and within about 15 minutes heard the wind roaring as I approached the ridge and summit of Celo.
After a brief celebration we noticed that although there was a trail or make that trails now before us, none of them were marked and most seemed to disappear into thickets of you guessed it underbrush and rododendron. We spent the next hour bumbling around finding the marker for Young's Peak which we now know to be the summit of Celo Knob, although Youngs Peak was not on our map. We had now been on the move for the better part of 9 hours, it was cold, dark, and the bushwack climbing had taken its toll. An hour later we finally had discovered the official ridge trail and quickly arrived at the marked intersection with our descent trail. It was now 9:30 and I finally felt we had a moment worthy of the celebration flask I had stashed in my pack. This would be tantamount to the enduring image of president Bush standing in front of the mission accomplished banner.
The descent trail although a well blazed was its own special slice of epic fun. It followed a relatively steep ridge straight back down to the base with pretty much a fall-line direction. At some point all of us busted it on this trail. It was brutal on the feet and more so on my quads constantly trying to control my descent. At least each of us had a treking pole to stay mostly in balance. The technical nature of the trail and my wasted physical and growing mental deterioration was forcing a pretty slow pace. And the real kicker was that our descent trail would dump us out on a road over 8miles by road away from where we had parked. Jasyn had previously scouted out a series of logging roads that would get us back to our car. But that was about a year ago and he had done this previous travel in the daylight in much better conditions than any of us were now in. Lynn and Jasyn had met a lady that lived at the base of the trail we were on but we quickly realized that it would be midnight at the earliest before we would reach her house. The likelihood that she would even answer her door was pretty slim. In the end we opted for throwing ourselves on the mercy of the Yancy County Sherriff's Dept. We told them our predicament and they graciously offered to send a deputy to give one of us a ride to our car.
We popped out at the trail-head at 1 a.m. knowing that the calvary was on the way and indeed two minutes later headlight rounded the bend with our saving chariot. Before we knew it Pace was back with his truck and we now knew it was over. Or so we thought.
Twenty minutes later as we approached Spruce Pine, the cars belts started screeching for no apparent reason. They eventually stopped, though their silence was accompanied by the loss of power steering. Pace pulled over at a closed gas station. Turned the car off and then back on. We drove on now with a battery warning light glowing on the dash. 10 minutes later the headlights were beginning to dim and we all knew our night was not over. We almost made it to Crossnore before the truck just conked and Pace pulled over in an empty parking lot. Thanks to Jasyn's AAA membership we called at 2:30 and a truck was there by 4 a.m. We got towed to Boone, where Pace was able to get his fiance's truck and shuttle us all back to Lynn's house. I crawled into the warmth of my own bed at 6 a.m. snuggling up against a deliciously warm Amy who had been wondering just what had happened. We had actually kept all the significant others in the loop throughout the evening thanks to excellent cell reception on the mountain, so she knew at 1 a.m. that we were safely off the trail and would soon be headed home. I decided not to wake her again with news of the tow truck issue. In the end we all made it home safely to our families tired but uninjured with a great adventure shared. We all agreed it was some of the most stellar ice climbing any of us had done, but hardly worth the bushwack to the summit followed by the steep technical trail descent. If we go back and I hope to some day we will probably rappel part of the route and walk off like the party in front of us did.

Waterfall for sale.

Our objective the prominent frozen drainage on the left.

A great sequence of Jasyn heading up one of the steeper sections during the first block.

Lynn and Pace following us on the fun part of the day.

Lynn with Table Rock in the background.

Wrapping Up 2008 the right way...

2009-01-01T10:37:00.000-08:00

After several days of running around to get all of the possible family visits in (read that stuffing ourselves with as much delicious holiday grazing as can be had in a six day binge) we returned to Boone and a gorgeous weather window. It just so happens that my old friend Tim was in town (from Ecuador) visiting his inlaws with his lovely wife and was itching to get out as was I. We got rolling just as the Hardy's country ham biscuit deal was wrapping up but just in time to score a few for the road and headed for Table Rock. I had the old second edition NC guide book and we talked about possible routes as we caught up with each others lives.
Amazingly enough the gate was still open to the parking lot and the day was shaping up into one of the prettiest of the month. Mid-fifties and blue-bird skies. Final route decisions were made in the parking lot. I was thinking something really laid back and in the sun in the 5.6 range. Tim was eyeing something a little more sporty. He picked out Second Stanza. It's a four pitch 5.8+ just past lunch ledge that joins with the final pitch of My Route. Neither of us had done it and failing to see the + after the 5.8 rating and with just a little apprehension I agreed to give it a go. The little voice in my head was having quite the vociferous debate.

"Well you said you needed to get out on unfamiliar terrain and push yourself a little.:

"Yeah but the last climbing I did was back in August and the other night I couldn't even muster a pull-up on the ice tools in the basement."

"Well it's only 5.8 (yes this would come back to bite me) and besides Tim will be leading the crux pitch. The other two pitches were ONLY 5.6 and 5.7 how bad could they be. "

The braver voice won out and we hiked around to the base arriving at the small ledge in good time. My first impression was "steepnesss" wow did that first pitch look steep. At 5.6 I figured I could get my feet wet without too much embarassment. The first pitch was awkward and as I overgripped my way white-knuckled through every move and trying to find a groove I have been out of since I can't remember when, I realized how much I really needed to be doing this. OK so I grabbed a cam to keep from pitching off the awkward mantle but falling on a 5.6 for good style just ain't my thing these days. (It's never been my thang). I finally clawed my way to the nice ledge belay and tried to generate enought spittle to let Tim know that I was off belay after fiddling in a gear anchor. Tims grunts (although I think possibly played up a little to assuage my bruised and shaken ego) were a little satisfying. Eyeing the next pitch while he climbed up to me I knew it was all him.

In fine Henkels style he cruised the pitch which looked even steeper and more intimidating than the one I had just thrutched through as he stemmed wildly into the almost overhanging awkward 5.7 crux. Did I mention the awkwardness of the route. I guess it's been way too long since I've been on something I didn't know like the back of my hand. This is far from the climbing I had done in college when I dreaded repeating routes too many times. As I rallied myself and sketched my way up to Tim the second weaker voice was really screaming now, "I told you we weren't ready for this. Now we're two pitches up on a gear anchor with a 5.8 roof to pull on a rising traverse. LOVELY" I wasn't ready to hit the total panic button yet but my more assured voice trying to reason that it was only one crux move and that I could probably gut my way through it was getting more and more faint. Long lost was the earlier dream of soaking up sun drenched pitches of the kind of laid back climbing I'd become so accustomed and addicted to. Now was the reality of not overly cold yet shaded pitches of steep challenging climbing and a slow growing fear of the unknown (adventure?) Tim kept the banter light hearted and up-beat picking up the slack for my increasing brooding silence. He moved just below the crux got in a couple of pieces and then leaned back to get a nice long look and plan out his moves. Just before setting off he zipped his shoes back to me on one of the free double ropes (now I was really sketched). But then just as quickly he fired through the crux on what appeared to be nice large holds. The silent internal psych-up or psych-out continued as he quickly worked his way throught the rest of the traverse and set up a belay thankfully well within earshot and mostly within view of the entire pitch.

Now there was no back-out. I cleaned the anchor and set off delicately to just below the crux. It was all there. The holds were positive sharp edged and mostly within reach. I cleaned the last piece below the roof and launched up into the sequence only to run out of juice mid reach. I gave it the Klamborowski "College Try" at least half a dozen times before trying to figure out how I could cheat my way out of my predicament. The prussik cord I had over my shoulder was almost as thick as my double ropes and wasn't biting well. There was no piece of gear close enough to grab or clip a sling to aid through and there was nothing available for the pieces of gear that hung from my harness. The only way out was up and with much pulling from Tim I eventually dry humped my way to within reach of the finishing jug. Thank you Tim (Bones) Henkels for getting me into this ha ha ha.

Perhaps if I hadn't overgripped my way through two other pitches I would have had something left for that crux. Perhaps if a million other things had been different. In the end I'm blaming it all on Tim's shoes a full size larger than my own and three quarter high tops that were hanging off my derier through those critical moments for my failure at the crux. Whatever the reason the day was the best possible adventure to be closing out the year with and the company was unbeatable. Tim cheered and pulled and pulled and cheered and pulled some more on those skinny strands until I couldn't not get my big butt up that crux. I gave him a hard time for picking this winning route but secretly I really was thankful that he had chosen it and for the entire experience. It made the final 5.4 BOLTED pitch to the summit of Table Rock all the sweeter. As we coiled rope we even had our very own trail angel. A random hiker at the summit also named Tim gave us a snickers bar which we promplty split and inhailed after coiling ropes. Then after some summit shots in the waning afternoon light we walked lightly down the trail in gorgeous sunlight to the parking lot for some post climb home-brew libations while we sorted gear on the tail-gate.

I couldn't have asked for a better day out catching up with a good friend. Classic NC climbing experience. Pics should be coming soon. Tim has promised to send me his shots. I left my camera in the car and even if I had had it with me would probably never have thought to snap anything except maybe the summit shot. Glad I finally caught up with Tim as his visits are few and relatively far between. He and his wife head back to Quito tomorrow to finish out their contract for this year before finding out there next destination in international teaching. Safe travels to them and hopes that they may find better beer options in Ecuador in the coming year.

Zircon

Uhmmmmm your lead Tim!

Smiling only after having been levitated through the crux.

You know you're with a true friend when they're laughing "with"you (harder than you're really laughing).

Safe at the belay.

Fly Fishing Take us Away...

2008-12-20T10:43:00.000-08:00

Carter and I escaped the household this morning avoiding the IPTIP (Intense Potty Training In Progress) at our house and headed for the river. We took the garbage and recylcing and then tried to erase the traumatic memories of yesterday's playground accident and ensueing multiple doctor visits that resulted in the loss of Carter's top two teeth. Every day on the way to and from school I drive over the Watauga River on a low water bridge and look at the downstream side pool to see brookies stacked up there and often rising in the calm slick just before a major cobblestone riffle. We parked after our other duties and got Carter casting on the water with a couple of different lures while I strung up. Thirty minutes and many untanglings later I finally got on the water myself. The brookies were somewhat interested in Carter's offerings but never quite enough to strike outright. There was a lot of chasing but I doubt he was ever aware of any of it. All he knew was that he was doing a ton of casting without results. I worked the riffles downstream with an almost immediate hook-up with a sizable fish that played itself along just long enough for me to get excited before spitting the fly. Repeated drifts through the run brought no better results. After about twenty minutes longer with Carter's interest waning and him sitting down to wait til I'd had enough the fishing turned on. In the pool below the bridge I got my second hook-up and Carter realed in the nicest brookie of the day. No sooner did we have him back in the water and cast over to the same run for another immediate fish-on. Carter realed this one in as well. He was a smaller but fiesty brookie that had taken the larger stone fly nymph at the top of the rig. I pulled in two or three more alternating between the larger #8 stone fly and the much smaller size 18 bead head hares ear. On the final cast of the day I snagged a nice sized brown from the upstream side of the bridge. He looked to be pretty hurtin' though with blood coming out of his gills it looked as if he'd sustained some damage from someone or something else deep down. My size 18 in the corner of this mouth couldn't have caused what I was seeing. I got him back in the water pronto, but I'm not sure if he'll last very long. He did swim away stong. Hopefully he'll hang on. As for Carter although a little bored at the end he did admit that he had fun just being outside.

Fish-On!!!

Two handed trout almost makes up for two lost teeth

(not really)

The smaller fiestier fish for me!

Fa la la la la la la la la la!

Snow Day Ice Scouting with Carter

2008-12-01T08:33:00.000-08:00

Carter and I snuck out to scout some ice on my way to work this morning. We are into our fourth Snow Day already and it's only December 1. The conditions have been pretty favorable lately to ice production so I figured we scoot up to Linville and have a look see at BLC. I must say I had predicted it would be in much more substantially. This really makes me wonder about Daughton. On our way back from the overlook Carter and I stopped to run up the Flat Rock Trail. The rocks up top were a little slippery but the views of Grandfather behind us were well worth it. We had done this hike for the first time this Summer on our way down to Asheville. It was fun to get out on it today in light snow conditions. Looks like we're in for a full winter if this weather suggests anything.

Zipline

2008-10-12T15:56:00.000-07:00

Friday was the end of the grading period and a gracious school family had offered up a free team building opportunity for our staff. Not everyone was interested but the few that were came along and we had a blast. The McCoury's own and run Scream Time Zip-Line and they showed us one heck of a great time. Their staff was courteous and professional which of course allowed us to act like the middle school students we teach. But seriously the whole experience was great. We started on the more standard tour which included riding six separate zip lines back and forth across a deep grassy ravine. The next to the last zip brought you through trees before finally zipping down to the barn. We were shuttled to the top of the mountain in the signature Swiss Assault vehicles that the family bought just for the purpose. It was a pretty wild experience, but like a great story the final chapter of our adventure really made the day. We were driven back to the top of the mountain where we took a short zip over to the whole reason to be there, THE SUPER ZIP!!! 800 feet top to bottom and the ride lasted almost an entire minute of flying through the air suspended beneath our double axled pulleys singing out our speed over the cables. Now that's what I call a work day :-)

Hill Climbs and Bouldering Comps...

2008-10-06T18:45:00.000-07:00

Another glorious weekend in the high country. Perfect weather for the 2nd annual Howard's Knob Hill Climb (2 miles of pure hill) on Friday. Conditions were perfect. Bluebird skies and temps in the low sixties to upper fifties. Wayne and I were the only ones that I personally knew to compete in all three of the Triple Crown events. The race actually had a pretty decent number of runners and I was surprised that more people hadn't been up for all three. It started making me think I had a real shot at something until I saw a few other people with the characteristically low bib numbers that designated early registrants. I put the target on a few runners and lined up with Wayne for the start. Even though I hadn't run the Knob since last winter, I still had a distinct advantage from driving up and down it every day to and from work. And the few times I had run it gave me valuable information on where to walk and where to pick up the feet again. I made it the first mile when the gravel regains the pavement and then kicks up at a serious enough angle to bring almost everyone to a walk. I got passed by a woman who always seemed to race at my pace in the other two races. This is one of the people who passed Steve and I like three times on the 25k before I finally reeled her in for good on the home stretch. No big surprises on the climb. A lot of steep walking and plodding jogging got me to the final rising curve where I was able to inject the energy saved on the last walking section into a pretty decent pace that carried me through to the finish. Amy and kids drove past on that final hill and I caught them just before the finish line which was great as Carter ran with me up the final small hill into the finishing corral. 23:05 ended up being just good enough for third in my age group of 30-39. Again you've got to love a small town race. Of course to put things in perspective the winning time was 15:58. All in all a nice kick start to the weekend.

Saturday was the Hound Ears Bouldering Comp. I always do the safety/medical standbye of this event as a representative of our Rescue Squad. It's always a fun scene where I get to see members of the local climbing community at least once a year. Over 400 people from all over the Southeast showed up to enjoy "SPLITTER" sunshiny weather and temps in the upper sixties. I had some help in the morning with one of our younger members and we ended up getting on a couple of the roped climbs for fun. Most of the time I just hung out in or near the upper parking lot with the shoe reps. It's the same group for the most part from year to year and it's always fun just hangin out and catching up with these guys. Some of the more dramatic problems are also just off of the main parking area so you get to see some hard problems pulled with some pretty impressive top-outs on relatively high ball problems. All in all it was a pretty chill day. Amy even got to bring the kids up this year and we let Carter and Gracen scramble around on some low boulders. They had a blast. The scene at Hound Ears has gotten progressively better year after year. As I was standing around it was fun to eaves drop on all the conversations about problems completed. But one guy came up totally psyched with a completely filled out score card. He was a pretty big dude and he came up very proud of his card. He was showing it to one of the judges I was talking to, dramatically pointing with cigarette in hand, to a V1 which was his major accomplishment of the day. I couldn't help but think, "Right ON!!!" This is what this comp is all about. Here's this guy who is totally psyched having a great time and has found enough V0's to keep him happy for the entire day. Of course there are some people throwing down some seriously hard problems in the V9-V10 range but for the most part the Spray Lords of the past seem to have either left the scene or at least mellowed out considerably. I'll bet that same guy'll be back next year pointing confidently cigarette in hand at his latest accomplishment of probably a V2 or who knows maybe even a V3 and will be just as psyched. Or maybe heaven forbid he'll just come back and do a whole bunch of V0's again. Either way the event will be the success it has become as a great fund-raiser for the Carolina Climbers Coalition and the Access Fund. And I'll plan on being there again for my annual dose of bouldering.

Zircon

Welcome to the world of Middle School.

2008-09-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

If you just read the epic post before this then you need to read this tid-bit. So it's Friday and my friend Dave has been back at school for about three days. He has his pics of the race to share with the kids who have been super supportive. I mean how could you not be impressed by a teacher you see everyday accomplishing such an amazing feat. (OK other middle school teachers don't answer this question) But seriously. It's the next to last class at the end of the day (the day where Dave is actually moving around pretty well and well on the road to forgetting the amount of suffering it took to get through his race except for those nasty heel blisters he occasionally bangs into his swivel chair feet) and admittedly the one that most of the teachers find the toughest crowd. Anyway Dave is rolling through the slide-show (I know slideshow but seriously it rocks) and he shows Steve Ahn and John Moore finishing and then his own shots of coming across the line when... One of the smart aleck boys pipes up from the back with something about how finishing after Steve Ahn must mean that he really sucks. HELLO. Welcome to the middle school. No story or experience will ever truly crack the shell of complacency from our under-experienced charges. Nothing like a "gentle reminder" that no matter what you do you will never be that impressive to a 13-14 year old adolescent male. I don't share this to diminish in any way Dave's accomplishment, but merely to illustrate the challenges that we often face even in our own sheltered small community. Likewise I don't pretend that I wasn't as cocksure and self assured in my own way at this age(OK maybe I wasn't as brave as this guy was to say out loud the comment that seemed ripe for the picking). Dave was a little hot when he escorted our young would be comedian to my room. After a short talk with our hilarious comentator I realized there wasn't much I could reason with. He thought he was being funny in a really awkward unappreciated way I'm sure. And much to Dave's credit we were both laughing about the young punk before we headed out for the weekend.
Moral of the story: If you ever need a dose of humility or someone to take you down a notch(deserved or not), just stroll on over to your nearest middle school and see what kind of reception you get from your average student. Just also remember you were once in their shoes.

Zircon

A Wild Wisconsin Weekend

2008-09-10T18:39:00.000-07:00

Where to begin??? How about the beginning. Friday after school I ran in the Valle Crucis Cub fun run. It's a nice 7 mile course that begins and ends in the parking lot of my school. The weather was good if not a little warm. I went out a tad fast in the first mile but quickly started giving it up to a slower pace with each subsequent mile. After mile four when the real hill started I knew it wasn't going to be a stellar run. I had been killing this course with the Triabetes guys all spring long but hadn't run over 5 miles since May. It was showing. Regardless I managed to power walk the big hill and get back up to speed by the tip top of the course, then pull a Dave Shack accelerating over the last rise and over into the downhill. I was closing in on a couple of guys and finally passed one at the last aid station at mile six. I felt sure he would overtake me in the end, but he faded in the last half mile. I almost caught one more guy at the finish but couldn't quite work up the mojo. I came in at a slightly less than stellar 58:31 or thereabouts. Once again the lesser goal was reached (under one hour) but I realize that to have loftier goals (like a 56 minute pace) you need to make some training effort to achieve them. Se la vie. It turns out that my time was good enough for 24th place and a nice little medal for the top 25. You gotta love small town road races. All in all a fun course but I should have been a little better prepared. I also didn't want to push it too hard because I knew what was coming after the run.

After some free Bandana's BBQ at the end of the race I said good bye to Carter, Gracen, and Amy, jumped in the car and headed to Reid Stewart's house. After a quick shower we hopped in his car with his son Benjamin and hit the road for Madison, Wisconsin and the 2008 Ford Iron Man race our friends Steve Ahn and Dave Shack were competing in. These are the guys I've been running on and off with for the past year as they trained to compete as a team of 12 type one diabetics. I hadn't been planning on attending the race until I had been talking to Heather Stewart our secretary. She was talking about how bad her husband (also a type 1 diabetic) had originally wanted to be part of the team but due to some health issues had been unable to make it happen this year. She also mentioned how badly he wanted to be able to see them race. I too had a huge desire to witness this inspirational performance. After a quick discussion I told her that if Reid was up for it I would be interested in road tripping together to be able to catch the race. After checking in with the boss I was definitely in and within a few days Reid had committed. He also wanted to take their first grader Benjamin along with us who is also a type 1'er. I have to admit that the idea of a 13 hour road trip with a first grader did not sound like the best idea. However as the weekend went on I also understood how important it really was for him to be there and see all of these other diabetics accomplishing something so impressive while exercising control over their disease. And to his credit I don't know many first graders that could handle an 18 hour day of cheering on racers as well as he did. But more on that later.

Reid powered out 12 hours of driving while I tried to hang with him. I lost the battle a couple of times but got to spend some good time getting to know him better while Benjamin sacked out in the back. We made it to Chicago just past sun-up and after a classic Cracker Barrel road trip breakfast I drove us the last hour or so into Madison. We hung out with Steve and family at the house we were staying at. The organizer of the whole team Michelle graciously gave up her house so the Boonies would have a quiet and comfortable home base. It couldn't have been located in a more perfect location imbetween the swim/ run course downtown and the biking loop. After catching up with Steve and then Dave who had come over to pack their bags for the transitions I gave up and took a nice nap in the back. I don't think Reid ever got any rest that day. In the afternoon I woke up and we all headed over to a reception for the friends and families of the Triabetes Team. It was a quaint get together where we got to hear the whole story of how this had come about. Let's just say that as with so many other incredibly powerful things in our world it started as an idea in a coffee shop. And like those other incredibly powerful things what made it really happen was the people willing to see it through to the weekend we were all now part of. After the reception Reid and Benjamin and I drove around to scout out the bike course for the next day. We found some good hills to spectate from and the easy access points (something that would pay off big time the next morning). Then we headed downtown to make sure we knew how to get to the start. We crashed out relatively early psyched for the race.
Sunday morning came early but we were all psyched. Steve left early to get driven to the race. Reid and Benjamin and I rallied and got out the door and over to the start of the race just in time. We parked a little ways from the lake and rode bikes down to the waters edge to watch the craziness of 2200 people swimming the first of two laps unfold. It was insane and we slowly made our way over to the transition area to watch the swimmers begin coming out of the water. If you have never seen an iron man or a triathalon period the first transition was high energy and singular focus for both racers and a small army of volunteers who helped peel wet-suits off the racers as they emerged from Lake Monona. The crowd was packed around the transition and I ended up only really seeing one of the team make the actual transition. The rest had been lost in the hoards of people exiting the water. Reid actually saw Steve Ahn and I finally saw John Moore although I can't be sure if the announcer hadn't called out his name if I would have. We were both wondering if the rest of the team was still out in the water and started getting really nervous as the cut-off time for the swim of 2 hours and 20 minutes rapidly approached. We stayed until the last swimmer to make the cut-off made it in with no time to spare. If you have a chance go to youtube and type in "The last guy out of the water" the crowd was going nuts when he made it and was an energizing start to our day as specators. At that point we realized that we must have simply missed them coming through. In wet-suits and swim caps with goggles it was almost impossible to tell anyone apart. We saw a couple of other Triabetes fans and heard the good news that everyone had made it through the first leg and all in good time. We were relieved and headed back to the car to head out to the bike course.

Pre-scouting the course enabled us to get quickly to one of the better viewing spots. Reid and Benjamin dropped me off first so they could head and get some snacks. I biked down to a good viewing hill after immediately seeing the lead rider for the team Bill Carlson rip through the intersection. (Bill was the first ever diabetic Iron Man back in 1983) This was his sixth Iron Man and he was leading the team. I don't know what else I can say except Ok well nothing, just let that sink in for a minute). A full fifteen minutes later I started seeing some of the other team members roll through aptly named Bitch Hill. Finally I saw Steve Ahn come through. By then Reid and Benjamin had made it out to the course as well as the whole Shack contingent. We cheered Steve through and then the following team members. Steve looked so strong and spotted me immediately at the bottom of the hill. All of us were wearing royal blue Iron Fan t-shirts that said Triabetes on them but he was smiling and having a great time. I was astounded to see Steve about half way in the pack of team members ahead of Iron Man veterans John Moore, Ann , and a couple of others. I figured that John would catch him on the run after having had an epic swim start complete with a blood sugar so low he was falling asleep in the water. Shack came through about 30 minutes behind Steve. He looked solid and in control though he baerely responded as I cheered him on up the hill towards his family (This was not the first time I had experienced "Silent Dave"). He did give me a sideways glance with just a hint of a smile to tell me that he was a machine. That he was! All of the team was looking in control. We were getting twitter reports that one of the leading members was out of insulin but he ended up just fine. After the initial cheering on Bitch Hill we headed into Verona where a whole street was blocked off for the race. We got some local bratwurst and cheered on the riders as they flew through the flat section of the course. Eventually we caught the team coming through on their second laps before heading back to the run.

After a quick drive back to the downtown area Reid, Benjamin, and I got on the bikes again and rode in search of the marathon course. After a quick stop for a beer and snacks we caught up to the team in various places. Again everyone looked strong. At one intersection I saw almost the entire team pass including Dave. He was dealing with IT band issues and in a fair amount of pain but still had a smile on his face when he told me how much it hurt. I got to ride along a little with Steve and John who had met up on the run and had decided to finish together. They seemed in pretty high spirits. I was able to catch them several more times on the course including their final turn-around for the home stretch of about 7 miles. I never saw Dave again but his family was out there cheering him on . Later I would find out he was pretty isolated on the course as he power walked faster than most of the walkers but much slower than anyone running. We headed for the finish line getting there in time to see several of the Triabetes team run confidently through the tape. Most of them had their Iron Kidz training partners with them as they crossed the finish line. (each team member had been paired up with a diabetic kid from around the country with whom they kept in contact with thoughout the year of training) The finish line scene was high energy. The announcer really had his act together as each individual came through to the announcement of their name, home town, and often tidbits about their life. It was made abundantly clear as each person came down that although we were cheering on an amazing team that was accomplishing something so incredible and meaningful that there was no lack of touching stories in the other competitors. It was a heady emotional experience watching so many people accomplish the seemingly impossible task of Iron Man. I think intoxicating is not an exageration. My adrenaline never stopped pumping all day long. Out on the course I even found myself asking the innevitable "could I do this" question. The smiles on so many faces belied the truth of what it must take to push yourself so far and so long. But then there were also the looks of utter agony. I imagined that these looks were the same as the ones I had worn months ago pushing through "JUST A MARATHON". It snapped me back to reality a little and reminded me of the recent conclusions I had arrived at in my own pursuit of endurance events. But back to our heros. After a few other Triabetes athletes crossed the finish line here came Steve Ahn and John Moore around the final corner picking up their Iron Kidz and Steve finding Zoe. I must admit I almost cried just watching this over the shoulders and heads of the throngs of people lining the finish. Both finished in just under 14 hours just as the sky started to spit at the crowd and finally release a steady drizzle that was unable to quench the high spirits of the finishers or the crowds. Quite the accomplishment I'm told. I caught up with Steve as he walked with Ashley and the kids. I saw utter relief and total satisfaction albeit with quite the dose of weariness mixed in with his expression.

Next we turned our attention to Dave. A quick touch base with Nate let us know that they had seen him at the final turn-around and at his courageous power walking pace would probably be at the finish line in about an hour and a half. We caught up with John for just long enough to congratulate him on not only finishing but also officially breaking the Hiatt blood sugar curse that seemed to plague him whenever I either ran with him or in this case simply happened to be in the neighborhood. We took the time to move our car closer to the finish just so we wouldn't have to stand around in the rain. But then the rain decided to quit of its own volition. We rode passed the Shack posse on their way up to the finish. They were in high spirits indeed. After the car shuffle we made it back in time to see Dave Shack (with IT Band issues and now giant blisters to boot) make the triumphant final turn, under the Iron Man Balloon and through the finish line. Reids wife Heather had been following the race all day long and had been our update person via cell phone. She had set up her own personal Triabetes HQ in her living room with two lap-tops and two phones running non-stop. Ah technology. I could almost here her celebratory cries all the way from Boone as she and our principal Wayne had stayed up late to see everyone finish online.

Words do little to express what I felt watching these guys throughout the day. I have never felt so much a part of something I had so little to do with. I learned so much in the past year about diabetes, determination, the hidden powers within people, and commitment to a cause and all this as a spectator. I feel amazingly blessed to have witnessed such a performance from such incredible human beings (most of whom I do not nor will I ever know). If you are reading this post and know anyone with diabetes please spread the word about TRIABETES. Also please check out the posts from the actual athletes themselves. Steve and Dave's blogs are both linked to mine and they have the rest of their teammates linked through their blogs. Also keep your eyes and ears open for the Triabetes Documentary that was created about the team.

Zircon

Loving Where We Live

2008-08-03T17:29:00.000-07:00

My sister, brother-in-law, and a friend of ours all came up to visit from Raleigh this weekend. They had all come up this Spring for the Banff Film Festival and it was fun to have them all together again. Besides any time Carter's hero (Uncle Kevin) visits its's a big occasion. Despite the somewhat depressing reality of having to go back to work on Friday after a very enjoyable Summer break, we quickly rallied with a great evening out at Valle Crucis Park with a large group of our friends for some grillin' and good music. We got home just in time to beat our guests arriving from the scorching piedmont.

Saturday morning Kevin (brother-in-law), Bill, and I headed up to Ship Rock by way of Bojangles of course. The morning was cool and surprisingly windy as we walked the parkway to the climbers trail. We were the first ones up on the cliff apparently and had our pick of routes. We settled in on the upper tier for a windy jaunt on Edge of a Dream (5.7). As I got out to the edge of the arete the gusts were buffeting me just a bit. It definitely woke me up and got the blood pumping as I placed a couple of extra pieces of bomber gear before turning the corner. I remember thinking if it stays this windy I'm not sure I'm up for Boardwalk. Shortly after getting there another group started setting up on Lost at Sea (5.8) right next to us. We took a few runs on Edge then packed up and headed down to Buffalo Nickel (5.7). This was Kevin's first and Bill's second multi pitch experience. By then the wind had died down but I still wasn't feeling up to Boardwalk. So we enjoyed ourselves on B.N. It's a great climb for a first multi-pitch outing. The belay is bolted and has a decent ledgy stance. It's a real do-able climb with some fun exposed moves alternating into a dihedral that makes you not feel so far off the ground. The summit is gained through a small cave that's blocky and fun. It's always nice to share an adventure with good friends. Bill and Kevin took everything in stride. We did fairly well with rope management and I was doing my best to display good multi-pitch practices. As we were topping out though the weather started looking pretty iffy. There was grumbling thunder behind Grandfather and a passing cloud started to spit a little rain on us. We weren't really able to savor the summit in favor a a hasty but still safe descent to get out of the elements. The double rope rap to the ground was uneventful save that it was only Kevin's second rappel. We had made him rappel off Edge of a Dream earlier so he would be ready for the big one. He did great and seemed to enjoy the whole show. The grumbing thunder was a bit of a false alarm as the clouds blew past and we were soon under bluebird skies. But, time was flying by so after a quick tour of the upper routes we hoofed it out and back home stopping only to pick up some Mellow Mushroom Pizzas to share at home. (Thanks again Bill).

This morning after a big breakfast Bill, Kevin, and I headed up to the crag below our neighbors house. I've been wanting to get on this for over two years and today was finally the day. We set up the ropes and I rappeled in while Kevin and Bill hiked down. Our first tr set-up was a little to the side of the main route but we worked the route below our rope line. It was pumpy but had decent holds and Kevin and I were able to top it out. Then I shifted the anchor and we all got spanked on the very steep and extremely pumpy main route. We made the short hike back to the house a little humbled to find that my saint of a wife and my sister had lunch all spread out for us. Shortly after lunch the guests hit the road back to steamy Raleigh. Amy and the kids and I went for a short hike up on the loop and on our way back collected enough blackberries for a small cobbler. All in all a stellar weekend to savor the blessings of living in Boone.

Bill climbing up to the first belay on Buffalo Nickel.

Bill at the first belay.

Bill and Kevin at the first belay.

Kevin rapping from the top.

A little fishing a little bushwacking

2008-07-31T04:58:00.000-07:00

I met Jeff Tuesday morning to check out Upper Creek near the Linville Gorge. He had fished the upper section just downstream of the lower falls by himself a couple of weeks ago when I had to bail on him last minute due to some home project chores. He said that he was fishing near a church-bus group that was raising quite a ruckus and had heard about a trail to a lower section a mile or so downstream. We both planned on just a half day outing but ambitiously thought we could fish the whole section all the way to the falls and so we ran the shuttle and jumped off at about 8 a.m. on the trail to the lower section.

As you can see the scenery was incredible. We were deep in an isolated gorge for the entire time. The water was cool but felt good wet wading. It was a seemingly endless display of small runs and riffles with a nice smattering of big pools every three or four hundred yards. We started catching fish right away on bushy dries. Most of the sections gave you one or if lucky two shots at a fish. They would strike on the first or second cast and might even chase a second presentation but let's just say that we missed alot of fish.

But about an hour in Jeff cracked the code with his freakishly large and gawdy cicadia pattern. His first cast into a decent sized run brought at least three or four fish out of hiding at the same time all trying to kill this thing. A few casts and missed strikes later he pulled out this beautiful brown. I quickly tied on a chernoble ant and we were on terrestrials for the remainder of the day.

Even the fishing spiders had figured out that this was the place to be

The day was beautiful. The stream a dream and we made slow progress up stream as each run and pool contained many fish to tempt us. A few hours in we decided to attempt to make more headway stopping only at the most tempting pools and runs. The wading was great although the rocks were slicker than snot. I had on my wading boots with studs and felt while Jeff had a decidedly difficult time wading in his Keen sandles.

We were still catching and landing little browns and brookies from three up to 8 inches. We missed some nicer browns but pushed on. The shots below were the last two fish I caught for the day in the same hole. I had been having trouble with the calm water pools. I kept spooking the holes on my first cast and then chasing fish up to the head of the pour in unable to entice them. In this last hole I was able to set up my cast by first casting downstream getting the right amount of line out and casting up to the head of the pool on the first go. The reward was a twelve inch rainbow. The shot below with my hands outstretched has the fish actually in the water in front of me after I dropped him while Jeff was setting up the shot. So I turned back to the hole and did it again and on the second cast caught the smaller rainbow in the picture below. I tried for the hat-trick but it wasn't meant to be.

Shortly after these shots we made a much more urgent attempt to move upstream. As pretty and inviting as the stream was wet wading was not a very efficient mode of travel when trying to cover some ground. Not to mention the very slick rocks we were moving over were constantly threatening to twist and sprain ankles. Finally Jeff found a small trail that paralleled the stream with some flagging tape and we immediately started making good progress. But almost as soon as we started moving we lost the trail and then ended up in the second part of our adventure. The Upper Creek Death Bushwack. The next few hours had us battling our way through rodo thickets and steep slopes. Mind you we were also hiking with fully strung rods. After two hours we finally gave up and broke down the rods to make the incessant rodo groveling a little more manageable. By the time we reached Jeff's car my shirt was completely soaked with sweat and I was definitely toast. We had originally planned on a half day outing figuring we could get out by 1 at the latest. We reached Jeff's car at a little past three. A nice little adventure to end my official summer on and a must do albeit with some slight alterations.

"Gorge"ous Day Out

2008-07-18T04:42:00.000-07:00

Jasyn and I got out to the ampitheater for a couple of the tried and true stellar routes. The Daddy and the Prow. Due to a lazy morning start and having to be back for Carter's last swim lesson we had to cut it short of the tripple crown, though we looked long and hard at either the Mummy or the 5.7 Sister Seagle to the left. The Daddy was in the shade until the top but we did bake a little on the Prow. We had the whole place to ourselves for the entire time passing a party fo three on our way out just past four o'clock. Here are some of the highlight shots.

Jasyn starting out and on the first pitch after the scramble on the Daddy.

The Ledge before the top of the Daddy.

Looking over to the prow and Jasyn on the first pitch of the prow.

Back to Center...

2008-07-14T09:00:00.000-07:00

We've been back from our Western Road Trip for about two weeks now. We had a great time hanging out with family and friends along the way. Check out more details at the family site. A few highlights aside from good time spent with my Grandma, Mom, and brother were our first visit to Moab and Arches National Park. There was a ton of snow in Colorado and the temps were still on the chilly side. Good thing we'd all only brought one pair of pants each for the trip. Hanging out in Frisco at Amy's brother's vacation house both ways was stellar. It actually snowed on us while we were there the first time. We did do some fun short hikes with the kids at most of our stops. Carter is a great hiker and really pulled out all the stops during our second time in Frisco when he hiked up to Mt. Royal overlooking the town. That was a pretty serious uphill slog for a four and a half year old. Arches was fun as well with short hikes out to some of the formations that the kids seemed to really get into.

The big awakening on the trip for me was the complete lack of motivation to do any running. It's not that I could blame this on anything but myself. I just started to realize that there were choices to make. I'm sure Amy would have watched the kids if I had really wanted to run, but I also wanted to get out and do some fishing as well. In short it would be pretty selfish to expect her to just take on the kids all by herself several times each day. So instead I chose to fish and just hang out as a family in general. We were on vacation. Another factor was that I didn't really have anyone there to share a run with or help stay motivated. By the time we reached Ogden I was feeling pretty slothful and vowed to get back on the stick of running. However after a paltry 30 minute run our first day there I couldn't seem to be able to psych myself up for it. Enjoying my coffee in the morning while Amy went out for a walk or a jog was just too nice to give up. As we worked our way back into Colorado I found myself wistfully looking up at the mountains wishing our timing was different and that we were able to indulge fantasies of climbing some of those peaks. Alas we just didn't have the time or maybe I'm just making lame excuses but whatever the reason it just didn't happen.

As we came back across the flatter midwest and finally home, there was alot of processing going on. The trip felt strange and awkward and Amy and I both struggled to put our fingers on the reasoning behind it. The conclusions I have come to deal with a slight imbalance in this past spring. There was running and almost nothing else. I was able to get out and climb with Jasyn a few days after getting back to Boone. It had been over a year since I'd been on the rock. We just did Hindu Cush at Ship Rock but as I was laboring through the awkward crux I was realizing just what the imbalance had cost me. I'm not saying I regret any of the accomplishments in the past year. I am recognizing that they did not come for free and that the cost of a well balanced mountain life is a hefty price to pay for them. I'm obviously no super man and in order to run distance it takes a fair amount of time commitment to train and prepare. I learned much in the process probably most importantly that it is not in me to get out of distance running what I get out of other activities and so it is time to shift back to balance. It's time to do some more climbing with good friends. It's time to go fishing so that as Jasyn put it, " We get to have a good time without dieing." It's time to do a trail run because it's fun not because it's part of training for something bigger and better. It's time to stop comparing the height of our mountains with those we came across on our trip and create my own adventures in my own back yard. There are plenty to be had. And most importantly to find those adventures that can be shared with my family which are equally plenty.

Morning Masochism

2008-05-15T05:49:00.000-07:00

So I decided to try and hang and train with the big dogs the last couple of mornings. We met at Valle Crucis to run the Cub at 5:30. Did I mention I'm not really much of a morning runner. Actually I'm more of a warm cup of coffee on the front porch kind of morning person. I've always been amazed at Steve's and then subsequently Shack's ability to get up that early and then work out. So I figured it was time to try and step up to the plate.
Yesterday morning was surprisingly not that terrible. I actually felt awake and energized by the beauty of the predawn in what would be a great day. We started off and I was very impressed by Shack hanging with us on a pace quicker than his usual. He was with us until about mile four and then Steve and I pulled away together on the hill. When we crested out at the cemetery and turned back to pick Dave up he was already turning onto the final hill stretch and looking pretty strong. We joined up on him and all ran the last section. Then SHACK ATTACK, Dave starts accelerating up the last hundred feet of the hill up and over the rise and into the downhill. I was in cruise hill climb mode and he totally dusted me. I had to race to catch up. We finished just under a ten minute pace as OSTAF was pulling into the parking lot. All in all a nice run to start the day with and of course the cocky thoughts began to flow. Before I could stop myself I was suggesting the same thing this morning.
All day long I was feeling that run and beginning to wonder if another was a good idea. That afternoon Amy reminded me it was supposed to be raining and nasty. Steve and I talked on the phone and avoided the very tempting cancelation to wait it out for the morning. 4:45 came way too early this morning, and the sound of water running through the rain gutters only made me want to roll back over and go back to sleep. I dragged myself out of bed and got my stuff together. The drizzle was very light and mostly just overcast. After meeting Shack and riding together through town it started to rain. But when we pulled into VC it had stopped. Steve rolled in and despite all feeling rough we headed out.
I was flagging in mile one. We started out at around a ten minute pace Shack again hanging tough. After a mile or two the pace quickened a touch but I felt slower. Again Shack was with us until the hill. This time Steve tested at the cemetery and just as we were turning around to pick him up Shack was cresting the final rise. What a monster. We regrouped and headed into the downhill together. I was beginning the final fade now. As we turned onto Broadstone and the final half mile Shack opened up a 50 yard gap on me with Steve by his side. I started to try and do a mild increase but he was still accelerating. I had to sprint to catch up to him by the Mast Store Annex with 100 feet to go and it turned into a three way foot race. We ended up finishing two minutes faster than yesterday thanks to Dave. I don't know how he does it but he is obviously built for distances greater than seven miles.

Zircon

VC 25k

2008-05-05T05:38:00.000-07:00

A beautiful day to suffer. What a fantastic race. Beautimous weather, sunshine, cool breeze, challenging course, and of course diabetic drama. I picked Steve up so he could get a bike ride in after the race without leaving a vehicle. All was good until the pre-race test. 280 while a great score in sports such as bowling is not a number I think Steve was excited to see on the glucose monitor. We started the race all full of ourselves during the first mile of gently rolling creekside running and then the hill began. Apparently just having a blood sugar of 280 is pure joy in and of itself but when you add a nice anaerobic sustained climb for 2.3 miles well then it's just ectasy. Ninja plowed through the hill. At mile 3.3 we hit the first crest at Rominger Rd. Steve's test was 260. Not exactly good news. A short recovery period and we were climbing again. He was hangin' tough though and in fine stoic form it was easy to forget just how uncomfortable he must have been. A test somewhere between the aid stations showed a miniscual drop to 240. At this rate of decline he would still be around 180 at the finish. From here though the course was a gradual descent. We were actually able to catch the group that passed us at the second aid station. We would subsequently pinball and yoyo between this group of about 6-8 runners for the remainder of the course. Steve started to feel better and the course floated by as the views became more and more impressive. At the second aid station Steves test was 140. A drop of 100 points in just over twenty minutes. Let the roller coaster ride begin. He started eating shot blocks. By the third aid station at mile nine manned by a former student and her Mom, Steve's plummeting blood sugar had stabilized at around 114. Keep in mind he would have to eat shot blocks continuously just to maintain this level. Nothing quite like feeling like poop, running up hill, and then crashing mid-course, and having to force feed yourself gooey cheweys like it was your job. Around mile ten we hit the river road. The long gradual uphill on rough gravel. We picked up a chocolate lab who paced us the remainder of the run a solid 4-5 miles of playful energy at my side. Into the final aid station Steve tested and remained just above 100. He crammed down a whole package of shot-blocks six gummy squares plus power aid. Then we rolled out with a clear mission of recatching and passing the group that had just sailed through ahead of us. And catch them we did just as we got to the sneak hill on Watauga River Road. The cliff shot I had taken at mile nine kicked in here along with some inner drive as the grade increased. I geared down and it felt like I floated the last hill pulling just ahead of Steve. Of course at the crest I was looking down at not quite the downhill I had been hoping for. The lab stayed with me and I managed to stay out in front of the people I had just passed. I saw a woman about 2-300 yards ahead of me finishing strong and was very content to come through the finish line by myself. Steve was not far behind. All in all a beautiful day. Steve and I cooled down a little before he took off for his "light ride" up through Willow Valley. All in all a great run. I can't begin to tell you how nice it was to run with a friend for most of the course chatting away enjoying the views rather than singing lame songs to myself in my head to try and maintain sanity and avoid thinking about how stupid running fifteen miles really is. Sorry Wayne! Kudos to OSTAF for Off The Couching it. Yeah great idea to ride 25 miles the afternoon before ha ha. Although I don't know if I would have been able to finish a fifteen miler in 6 hours under your self imposed training regimen. I still say you would have been better off with a couple of frosty carbo-beverages and nachos. And you still think you're not sure if you could handle a marathon??? There's no question in my mind.

Dressed for the event

Just passed past the second aid station

Two goofballs at the mile nine aid station. Steve cramming down shot blocks

Our lovely mile nine aid station volunteers look on as Steve psychs himself up for yet another gooey chewey.

Now show me great internal angst and self loathing!!!

Zircon's Tiki Doll AKA Low Boy Incarnate

2008-05-01T11:56:00.000-07:00

So my friend Dave's alter ego is LOWBOY. He has plagued Dave incessently throughout his life's battle with Diabetes. One of my students gave me this TIKI doll a few years ago (I'm still not sure why). Perhaps they thought it went well with the Hula Girl sitting on my filing cabinet for most of the year. All I could think of when I looked at it was the Brady Bunch episode where they go to Hawaii and have the cursed TIKI doll that gets them into all kinds of trouble. That all changed when I started hearing and experiencing Lowboy moments working with Dave. Granted I have yet to see LOWBOY in all his awsome power. I get the occasional hint of a former glory every now and again, but since Dave has started training seriously for Ironman Madison with a couple of other suspect characters, LOWBOY seems confined mostly to jokes and references to this doll. Perhaps he has been condemned to ride out eternity in this cheap knock-off of Polynesian art. Let's hope so. LOWBOY is trapped most of the time in the top drawer of my filing cabinet the place where all the "Emergency Snacks" live. It seems a fitting place.

Zircon...

Discovering the Power of NO!!!!

2008-04-07T09:15:00.000-07:00

Gracen has recently expanded her working vocabulary by a single albeit impressively powerful word. It is surprising the number of practical places she has applied it. Brother touching your favorite baby stroller??? NO!!!! Gets moms and dads attention and they get him to leave it alone. Pesky Daddy trying to get you to cram down one more good for you bite of veggies??? No No No!!! gets Mom's attention and she gets Dad to leave you alone. Of course there are times when it doesn't work but the times when it does are so much more memorable and do a wonderful job of reinforcing the use of the new word. Being at a primarily single word vocabulary does have some limitations. Like when you want to do something. But then Mom and Dad are pretty good at interpretting the subtleties of the less than emphatic no, or maybe we just force the issue for good measure from time to time. The NO is not to be outdown with the other latest discovery of the ability to produce an ear piercing scream from deep down in the diaphragm. I think this discovery came initially from a squeal of delight that got her to experiment with her capabilities. No she can punctuate her NO with shrieks determined to get Mom or Dad's attention. Ah the learning curve of toddlers :)

Flu-Landia

2008-03-03T08:33:00.001-08:00

Russel Hiatt, you've just run your first marathon now what are you going to do???

I'M GOING TO FLU-LANDIA!!!

So here it is a full week after the marathon and I am finally feeling back to my old self. There were a few dark signs early on that something sinister was afoot like a tickle in my throat last Friday night and the beginnings of an irritated cough as a result of the tickle. But I managed in finest Zircon style to hold those symptoms at bay at least until Saturday night. After the mararthon we headed home to relieve Amy's folks who had been watching Carter and Gracen for the day. I then proceeded to take an hour and a half nap. Then woke up had some yummy Mellow Mushroom pizza, and then head to bed by around 7 p.m.

Some time during the night I woke up feeling hot and ran my fingers through my hair to find my entire head sopping wet like I was in the middle of a long sweaty run. Gross I know, I fell back asleep and woke up probably a couple of hours later in the same situation. Ok definitely not a good sign but again I fell back asleep with the fever broken and I assumed over. I woke up the next morning and felt reasonably able to make it to church. We went to the early service with me walking gingerly but still managing. The cough from Friday night had returned with a new strength. We made it through church and I thought I was still doing reasonably well. We headed home to let Gracen nap and then we actually went back out for groceries. By the time we got back from the store I needed to rest on the couch. Still no major alarms going off here, I had a reason to feel tired. By that evening though there were other signs appearing like cold chills preceeding fever spikes. Now I actually started measuring my temps. I definately had a low grade fever above 100. I crawled into bed early again and by Monday morning I knew I was in trouble.

Throughout the night I re-experienced fever cycles and by the morning I could barely sit up. The cough was getting worse. I got up and called for a sub and quickly organized some plans which I emailed in. Then I went back to sleep until around 12:30 or 1 p.m. Amy had called sometime late morning to check in and I was still asleep. When I got up I was between fever cylcles and actually felt hungry. I was able to eat some leftover pizza and begin re-hydrating. I had done a decent job of keeping the fluids coming all of Sunday and didn't want to get into trouble on Monday so I kept it up. By the end of Monday I knew I wasn't going in the next day either so I went ahead and called in to extend the sub.

After another night of the same feverish cycles and a worsening congestion and cough I was worried enough Tuesday to head to urgent care. I had a fairly miserable two hour wait for them to finally tell me that I had the flu even though they had just run out of flu tests. I got my lungs checked out and a strep culture that came up negative. They sent me out the door with a prescription for Tamiflu and advice to drink lots of gatorade. I filled my prescription and hung out on the couch dozing off and on.

Whatever is in Tamiflu it works. By Wedn morning I was already beginning to feel better. The fever cycles reduced to almost none and my appetite was returning. It didn't hurt that we had a snow day also. I was really able to lounge around with my lovely caring wife taking care of the kids. By the afternoon I was ready to be up and was having a hankerin for a Chic Filet sandwich. Amy didn't need her arm twisted too hard so we loaded up and headed down the hill for a short drive to be out of the house.

Thursday I was actually able to head in for the better part of a snow day to start to get caught up a little and leave some new sub plans for Friday. As it turned out I was actually able to use that for Monday since the middle school was able to go on their ski trip. I had really hoped to be able enough to go, but it was a better thing for me to rest and be ready to go today. I had been given orders by the doctor not to return to school before Monday.

By the weekend I was really starting to come back around. My Dad came up to visit and we had a nice low key weekend. Now it's back to the grind. But hey only three weeks to Spring Break and then time will really start to fly. Still gonna give myself an easy week this week before really getting back into running.

Cheers... Zircon...

Marathon a Mystery no more!!!

2008-02-28T07:55:00.000-08:00

First I’ll apologize for the random order of most of these shots. All except the first two shots that is. WOW what an experience. The whole day was surreal. In the pre-start photo where everything is still dark it still hasn’t fully hit me yet what I am about to do. Unlike any other race I have run I was so disconnected at the start. Maybe it was the abstract becoming real, maybe it was getting up at 3:45 to make it to Black Mountain, maybe it was the start of the flu that has completely layed me low and left me even today less than myself, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in a long time I was entering into something I had very little first hand experience with (make that zero experience). Whatever it was I found myself looking at a very supportive Amy in the pre-dawn and actually admitting that it was just then occurring to me what I was about to attempt. She stayed positive told me she was already proud of me and before I knew it, I was running up Cherry Street past the Town Pump and My Father’s Pizza and into what? I wasn’t exactly sure of. The first few miles I settled into a leisurely pace and listened to the conversations around me of marathoners and challengers reconnecting, sharing course info, and general early race chatter.

Through the stone arched entrance to Montreat we streamed and then soon uphill to the beginning of the single track. It was gorgeous trail conditions temps already above forty and the sun soon began peaking at us over the ridges as we climbed gradually on a humanely mild ascent on single track. I tried to stop a few times in the first hour or so to snap a pick or two but the camera just wasn’t going to do any of the sunrise scenes I witnessed any justice. I was chugging along pretty good dropping to a walk occasionally but for very short stretches and hanging with various groups. I had not studied the course map as laboriously as I had for Shut-In and so was pretty clueless most of the race except at the turn-around where I was. It was a little frustrating not being able to mentally tick off distances. Whenever I’d ask someone around me, I’d get a prediction that was always well below what I had hoped (not necessarily inaccurate just disparaging). Needless to say I stopped asking. After the first aid station we gained the Toll road. The grade was still mostly tolerable but nevertheless almost entirely uphill. It was not far into this stretch that I began to feel a familiar tightness in my calves. I shortened strides and accommodated the legs resistance but not long after felt the twinge of potential cramps yet again. I immediately dropped to a walk to feel things out, kept my stride even shorter and weight as centered over my feet as possible. I was roughly an hour and a half into this race and now began wondering when my calves would just out and out begin cramping as they had on Shut-In. Somehow they never did. Perhaps it was my friend Annette’s NUUN Tablets that kept the electrolytes flowing all day and staved it off. I’m still not exactly sure how I avoided it considering how long the race would eventually take. The other interesting thing was there were people around me taking a similar pace and attack of the course. I’m sure for most of the marathoners, they would translate that into a much more aggressive downhill run, and for challenge runners they had even more uphill to go. But for the most part I found myself with a fairly consistent group of people on the climb. At about two and a half hours in the first marathoners began passing us on their way down. I saw Annette with beaming smiles and was met by all who passed with words of encouragement. As I neared the last couple of miles before the parkway I was able to get back into my short strided shuffle run for more consistent stretches. In the hour leading up to the turn-around I had struck up a conversation with a challenge runner. He asked me where I was from and I mentioned Boone. Turns out he was the husband of the secretary at Amy’s school. Charlie Brady was his name. What a small world. We ended up at the turn-around checkpoint at the same time and I got our picture snapped together by one of the very gracious aid volunteers. He continued on to the challenge while I mercifully was able to turn around and head down already more than half-way done.
The turn-around was colder as the sun ducked behind some clouds. I refilled my camel-back with Nuun and water, grabbed few goodies and gave myself a good 10 minutes of walking recovery back towards the trail. I had made it there in 2 hours and 55 minutes and overheard a few runners commenting on how a sub 5 hour run was still in the cards. I though maybe it was still a possibility for me too and began making all sorts of mental calculations on what it would take to make that happen. I started with a strong 20 minute stretch of running followed by a short 3 minute walk, then probably my strongest 25 minute stretch of running short strided shuffle over the rocky upper toll road. As I eyed my watch and felt the tightness in my legs refusing to go away I felt everything begin to slowly slip away. Or maybe it was just the acceptance of reality, that this was not like an 11 mile run all by itself, the first fifteen were an uncomfortable and unavoidable influence on my current condition. I pin-balled between groups for a while before the walking stretches began getting pretty long. About an hour or so into the descent the mental wheels began to come off. Even though I could rationalize to myself that the more I ran the sooner the overall discomfort that was beginning to saturate every sense would be over. I tried the internal i-pod. What Kind of Cat Are You? Got me through about a mile. On the drive down that morning a random radio station had played Copa Cabana by Barry Manilow and I had joked with Amy that this would more than likely be one of my trail songs and it was. Barry got me through about another mile of rocky wet toll road. But soon even that strategy went by the wayside and I was left with my own thoughts about what in the heck I was doing.
The trail seemed to keep stretching farther and farther in front of me. Finally I made it into the next to last aid station and got the first exact mileage beta of the day besides the turn-around. I knew the heinous downhill was just beyond these tables and then an almost more scary flat 3 miles to the finish. This was the most entertaining aid station. They actually had one of those mini-kegs of what I believe was Heineken tapped out into little Dixie cups. Oh that I had been brave enough but I politely declined their offer grabbed a handful of chex-mix and headed into the downhill. I was still under five hours at this point but was painfully aware that the ship had sailed. The downhill was something I had read about in other runners accounts and had been dreading but I was actually able to let myself go a little on this section and actually run most of it I guess because it required very little effort on my part to put one foot in front of the other. A little over a mile later I hit the final aid station grabbed some potato chips and an orange slice and did my best shuffle run attempt. It didn’t last long of course. I found myself in a group that seemed to be in about the same shape as I was but that didn’t last for long as I soon found myself left to my walking/ occasional shuffle run pace. Soon we were on a nice little trail beside a stream and then it climbed up a small hill-side. I thought that they had to have been joking at this point. Soon enough I was on the road side doing my best to maintain a decent walking pace with an occasional ten step shuffle thrown in every few minutes. I pretty soon just decided to save any running I had left in me for the final lake lap. People were passing me by in a continuous trickle but I really didn’t care. I just wanted to be done. I had found my personal limits a ways back on the course. Coming into that final portion of the run I was actually able to hobble my way around the lake and through the finishing line. The smile on my face in the finishing photo is one of complete relief and is genuine. That shot and the one of Amy and I together were taken by our friend Carrie Kahn who was gracious enough to come all the way from Hickory just to cheer me on. Thanks again Carrie.
But my favorite shot from the bunch is the one with my biggest fan and supporter through this whole adventure, Amy. I know she doesn’t have even a remote desire to do something as silly as this, but that didn’t stop her from supporting me the whole way through to this finish. I lerve you babe. Russ...

P.S. Congrats to Annette Bednosky for winning the women's marathon with a time of 3 hr 54 minutes and my new trail friend Charlie Brady finishing the Mount Mitchell Challenge with a time of 8 hrs and 37 minutes.

Some toll road shots

Charlie Brady and me at the turnaround

Reflections on the journey thus far

2008-02-13T09:16:00.000-08:00

I was talking with a friend last night, and with Amy over the past couple of days about the process of readying myself for this run. With the final test still looming it is easy to overlook the gains I have made through this experience. Among the many ideas of why I might do something like run a marathon, several are smaller goals I have already attained. I’ll list a few below.

-getting in better shape
-dropping a few pounds
-challenging myself physically
-having a goal
-learning something new both about the sport and myself

There is still the pressure of achieving the goal, and yet as I really think about it the achievements above surpass the goal itself for me. No I’m not dropping out of the race. I’m just trying to put this in perspective for myself. I have long since accepted that due to unforeseen circumstances I am not precisely where I thought or hoped I would be in my preparation. But I am at peace with that, I couldn’t do anything about that anyway. I asked a lot of questions during the last half of my long run on Saturday. They were and still are important questions for me. Who am I really running this for? What constitutes success in my eyes? Is this experience valuable? Who really cares? What really brings me joy and happiness?

I was sharing with Amy how nice it was running with John on Saturday and how fun it is running with Steve, Shack, and Wayne. Most of the things that I do for fun involve a social aspect and running it turns out is no different. Experiences in general from my life’s understanding at least, are almost always enhanced when shared. I was lamenting the fact that for Black Mountain, the idea of running a race with strangers was a bit of a bummer. She reminded me I was running the race for me anyway. It was a good reality check.

Ultimately I’m not exactly sure how I feel about next Saturday. Nervous, excited, unsure, semi-confident, yes to all. For the first time in a very long while I stand before a challenge that I cannot truly anticipate an outcome for. How will I do, what will the course be like, what will the weather be like, are all variables that I do not control. Next Saturday will be a true adventure in that the outcome is UNCERTAIN. I hope that I do well whatever that means. I know that I can finish barring major unforeseen occurrences. Waiting and anticipating are always the most difficult parts of most things.

Zircon

Countdown to Black Mountain

2008-02-11T11:41:00.000-08:00

Saturday morning marked my longest and final long training run. Ready or not let the OFFI CIAL TAPER begin. No not the fake gimp induced three week slump but the real, still running only smaller distances taper into the final event. John Moore joined me for roughly the first half of the run at Moses Cone. We started at the Manor and did a tad over 9 miles in a wide loop finishing on the uphill. From there he dropped out with what sounded like Ketoacidosis (Steve calls me his bad luck charm) and I slogged on with much more walking punctuating the ensuing miles. I ran pretty solid until about mile 12.5 before dropping to a walk on a hill. The next 5.5 involved some walking but facing a long uphill climb after mile 18 I decided to walk the last mile and a half back to the car. I’m counting the full distance though as I will probably be walking sections of Black Mountain as well.
It was great running with John. Maybe it was his handicapped state, but the pace was manageable and the conversation kept my mind off of me and what I was doing. The last half of that run was definitely a ton harder all the more so without the companionship. Thanks to John for hanging in there as long as he did. He was also very encouraging when it came to the topic of my apprehensions about the first marathon. At the lonely completion of the run I was totally spent. I sat and had some Gatorade and a meal replacement shake. By the time I got home I was feeling pretty rough. As Amy would say, “DUH, you just ran farther than you ever had!” I took a short nap while Amy and Carter got out of the house and Gracen was down for her own nap. After that I felt a lot better and even was able to eat. By dinner I was ready for Mellow Mushroom Pizza and a big beer. I’m still nervous about the actual marathon. I’m hoping the weather won’t be too terrible on that weekend. I am looking forward to shorter enjoyable runs in the next two weeks. Just think healthy thoughts…

Zircon

Back In The Saddle Tentatively AKA Gimpy runs again

2008-01-30T09:14:00.000-08:00

Went for a run yesterday after a hiatus since the last posting. The week prior to the last trail run Wayne and I did, I had begun to have some physical issues that culminated after that run into what has for the last few weeks been, a frustrating experience (to say the least).

The background: Somewhere during the beginning of the week of January 7th, I incurred an injury initially unbeknownst to me through cutting tennis balls with an exacto blade. I won’t go into the explanation of why I was cutting tennis balls here, it was for my classroom. Over the next couple of days my left arm started aching dully first in the bicep and then radiating down into the lower arm along the bones. (I have since been told this is a classic sign of nerve irritation). I also experienced some plantar fasciitis in my left heel, I believe these were ironically enough related signs and symptoms of a back beginning to tighten up. After a couple of days of a break and utilizing some stretches a friend told me about the heel issue went away and I felt bold enough to go for the Tanawha run with Wayne. (See previous post). What I did not explain in this post was the increasingly dull ache that accompanied the final few miles of the walk to the car and the recognition that the pain was now eminating from the center of my upper back just between my spine and left shoulder blade.

Russ’s Solution Take One: I have a recurring issue that hits about once or twice a year where I get what I call a crick in my neck or “Frankenstein Neck”. Suffice to say it usually works itself out within no more than a week. I figured this was a similar situation and would just give it some time and rest. Six days, copious amounts of vitamin I, and no improvement later I was beginning to get desperate. If anything it felt like it was getting worse.

Russ’s Solution Take Two: I broke down and went to urgent care on Friday after school. I was diagnosed with a muscle spasm, given a prescription for muscle relaxants and sent on my way. I spent the weekend largely on my back applying a heating pad periodically and watching the boob tube.

Discoveries made during this time.

1. Laying on your back long enough eventually causes pain seemingly everywhere else.
2. Muscle relaxants don’t relax muscles in spasm or at least they didn’t relax my spasming muscles.
3. Intermittent back pain sucks
4. My wife suspects this is just a giant ploy to lay down and watch tv
5. My wife suspects that I am a big wimp when it comes to pain of any kind.
6. My wife could be right on both counts except when I try to sit up for longer than a few minutes and the pain shoots down my arm.
7. Thinking about the running I should be doing to be ready for my marathon does not improve my condition or outlook.
8. Intermittent back pain sucks.
9. In the realm of back pain my current condition probably amounts to something on par with a paper cut for most chronic back pain sufferers out there.
10. And finally I am a huge wimp when it comes to pain.

The weekend passed without change in my condition or position on the couch. A work day allowed me to ease back into the upright position. I thought I sensed a slight improvement but over the subsequent days left me in uncomfortable positions trying to alieve the burning aching sensations in my arm and back. I was beginning to become despondent. How long was this going to take? Would this ever get better? I know it was roughly a week and a half in two if you counted the day of initial onset. A patient man I am not. I figured I would give the muscle relaxants through the weekend before abandoning them. Saturday and Sunday I intentionally stayed in the supine position trying not to move any other muscle in my body. They all seemed directly attached to the one in my back and caused pangs that dropped me into even darker moods.

Russ’s solution Take Three: One of the guys that I run with is married to a Physical Therapist. I know I know why the hell didn’t I just harass this poor woman from the get go. Well after a couple of weeks worth of off and on suffering my resistance to bothering someone I hadn’t even officially met and who I’m sure gets this sort of , “ hey since you’re a p.t. can you check this nagging issue out for me” treatment all the time, was gone. I caved called Maureen up and after offering some thoughts over the phone she threw out the golden phrase. “I could check it out for you.” Twenty minutes later I’m in Maureen’s entry way with a pathetic peace offering of my last home brewed stout (well at least it was a full 16 ouncer).
Maureen gave me the once over and then started with her magic. She manipulated some of my vertibra and gave me some good stretches but most importantly encouraged me to go ahead and try some light running in the hopes that the movement would help loosen things up and possibly aid in the recovery.

Present: After giving myself a full day and a half to make sure the muscle relaxants were out of my system, I headed over to Valle Crucis park yesterday after school. It was glorious. Monday was kind of rough with some pain and discomfort throughout the day. Thanks to Maureen the pain had moved a little higher in the back but was much less intense and the stretches she had given me were helping. Yesterday the ache was much less pronounced and stretching throughout the day kept it at bay. During the run I felt no pain and it felt wonderful to be running again. Unintentionally I was cranking out 7:30 miles without trying to push too hard. After the run as I cooled down the ache returned but I feel it was with an even more diminished intensity.
Today the ache is still there but at least I know that for my run this afternoon I could be putting another nail in its eventual coffin.

Zircon…

A trail run sort of...

2008-01-14T12:06:00.000-08:00

A gorgeous day for a trail run, ok jog walk, ok hike. The early shots are from the summit of Rough Ridge above Ship Rock about 4.5 miles into the 13 total. Notice the relatively fresh faces and smiles. The middle part of the Tanawha Trail runs like a dream. Especially if you do it from Beacon Heights towards Price Lake. It's basically a long gradual descent for a gorgeous 5-6 miles. You feel like a trail running hero on this stretch. Unless of course you get way spread out and one of your party gets off trail and mildly lost. Good thing I was doubling back because Wayne would have probably topped out on Calloway Peak otherwise. But seriously it was a gorgeous four hours in good company to be outside and loving where we live.

Zircon...

Big Lost Cove

2008-01-04T08:44:00.001-08:00

Despite serious doubts about whether we would get a shot at this before it closed for Peregrine Falcons, Jasyn and I managed to get out Thursday and get on a well formed White Fang. Although it was leadable we elected to keep it simple with the old tried and true top rope. Besides Lynn Willis was not around for professional style photography and we all know Klamborowski won't pony up for anything less. Besides who wants to hump in all the extra gear. It was chilly but not uncomfortably so. Conditions should be cherry for Saturday when we hope to return with Jeff Kahn One for a more balmy and leisurely experience.

OK I guess it's go time...

2007-12-24T16:24:00.000-08:00

Just looking over the calendar and realizing how quickly Black Mountain will be upon me. I ran just over 12 miles on Saturday at Warrior's Path in Kingsport near Amy's parents. This is where the love hate part of this goal comes quite clear. I'm dancing with the devil here. The thoughts of some etherial goal out there just beyond the stretch of fingers is addictive and intoxicating. Yet forcing myself back into the training regemine it will take to deliver me ready and worthy is like pulling proverbial teeth (molars here folks). I guess part of it's fear. Will my body handle this? That's a really long time, a lot of pounding, do I really want to put myself through this??? This isn't even mentioning the looming skeleton in the closet from Shut-In. Apparently there's a calf devouring monster on race day somewhere out there. It found me just shy of twelve miles at Shut-In and gnawed a little at the quads too.

And then I'm out there on the trail feeling the exertion, listening to the gasps, feeling the sweat pouring even on a cold day and the little voice is almost silent. Then I'm just hearing, seeing, smelling, even tasting the goal and already day dreaming out the next run and ensueing training. It feels good to be getting back into the swing of this. Twelve miles felt like such a huge distance and I guess still does. Running for over two hours wasn't ever anything I truly envisioned myself doing. And the truly tragic part is that I can't piss and moan over even the marathon distance because of my demented pack of friends that decided almost at the same exact moment that I was digesting the decision to run a marathon, to sign up for an Iron Man Triathalon. You know a marathon just isn't enough for these maniacs. No they need to swim 2.4 miles and bike 112 miles before they run their marathon. Did I mention these guys are all diabetic. Talk about stealing thunder, talk about emasculating your good budy Zircon. I mean just when I was thinking I'd bit off something that would be an admirable accomplishment not really for bragging rights mind you, well ok maybe for bragging rights in my own schitsophrenic inner dialogue. But now the guy across the hall who never really ran before is going to knock off the KING KILLER ACCOMPLISHMENT! OH yeah and he's doing it without a fully functioning pancreas. Madness I tell you. At least I'll be able to say I knew him before he was famous. Maybe I'll even get a cameo shot in the documentary their making about these guys. What delusions of grandeur???

Shut In Rideg Run (The Race)

2007-12-19T09:21:00.000-08:00

Ok day before the race Amy and the kids and I blast out of Boone on our way to Asheville. I drop everyone off at our friends Dan and Laura and head to the packet pick-up/ pre-race meal. I got there a little early picked up my packet and then thought about heading out for a quick cruise up the parkway to scout the course but instead got to talking to a nice guy from Asheville who had run the race before. Turns out he grew up as a kid in Boone and Valle Crucis (he noticed my standard Friday attire VC t-shirt). Before we knew it dinner was set up and the room was full of runners. The meal was preemo. It just kept getting better the farther down the line you went and there was plenty of it. After dinner I did take the scenic detour up the parkway all the way to the finishing parking lot and then took a very windy highway back to Enka my old stomping grounds. It took forever but how funny it was to pop out back on Smokey Park Highway just across from the turn that went to the trailer Dad and I shared. From there I headed back to Dan and Laura's and had a good time hanging out before getting to bed at a decent time.

RACE DAY: Woke up to a rather chilly morning packed and repacked my camel back borrowed a few gels from Laura (these would probably save me during the race) had a light breakfast and we headed out. At the Arboretum the sun was quickly warming the chill off and by race start I was down to poly pro t-shirt and shorts. The start was pretty uneventful and despite the general nervousness about how really prepared I was I tried remembering some of the beta I had heard the night before. At the megaphone blast we ran downhill on pavement before gaining the gravel roads. Starts of races are my least favorite time of running period. Everyone is packed around you, all you can hear is their breathing, and all you want to do is establish your running rhythm which is nearly impossible with all variations of paces around you. At the same time you desperately want to get ahead of as many slow people as you can before the trail turns to single track. Within the first few miles I found the crowd beginning to thin out and the passing of runners falling off. The first hill was not bad at all and I felt very strong heading up to the parkway. As I recognized the first aid station after gaining the ridge that's when the trail began to get alot steeper. I found myself dropping into a power walk much sooner than expected but was not too worried about it as I kept track on my watch. After powering through that first hill and then following the descent I still felt great. I knew the big hump of Ferrin Knob lay ahead and after that the innevitable head wall finish. In between those first few knobs I hit some of the most beautiful trail running I have experienced. The leaves still hadn't peaked yet or were just peaking in color in Pisgah and the running was serene. I managed to choke down a few apple newtons and some water from the camelback. I tried to take water from most of the aid stations if even a few swallows. I remeber coming into the aid station right before the big Daddy Ferrin Knob and people cheering and saying now's where it really starts. I was still on a cranking pace and was beginning to feel the uphills a little more. I power walked almost the entire ascent of Ferrin, remember cresting the top and realizing that it shouldn't be any worse than that. Then running the descent into Bearverdam Gap feeling relieved at getting there in two hours and good, making it to the far side of the parking area and feeling the first calf cramps twinge in one leg and then the other. Rather conveniently during this time as I dropped to a walk I stepped over a log water bar and saw the telltale spiraling rise of hornets rising up to attack. They got me on the knee and back of the leg as I tried to hobble run past them still cramping. I made it past them and continued up the short climb trying to ascertain how bad this was going to be. I also remember immediately beginning to calculate where I was on the course and how much time had passed. I realized I had somewhere close to six mile left and was still determined to try and push through the situation.

The next few miles was spent jogging short flat or downhill stretches when I felt I could but otherwise trying to power walk to the best of my ability everything else. At one aid station I spent a few minutes trying to stretch out the cramps and eating a few banana chunks they had available. A fellow runner also offered me a salt tablet which I quickly swallowed. My new goal quickly changed to simply finishing. Secretly I still hoped to finish in under four hours but my mantra through all of this became, "I'm getting the damn t-shirt" They only give the coveted long sleeve shirts to the finishers. I was determined. For these miles I stayed pretty close to the guy who had given me the salt tablet. At this point I had eaten the gels I had been carrying. Heading across the road at the final aid station with the head wall looming above I was still powerwalking through the hills albeit at a much slower rate. Anything dead flat I was able to shuffle run for about 1-200 yds. before dropping back to a walk. As I came over the final small knob the trail dropped a little into a little wooded vail and I was actually able to muster a run as I passed the guy I had been hanging with for the past 40 minutes. I remember saying, " I don't know why I'm passing you right now but I'll see you anyway in a few minutes when you pass me back." He just chuckled.

THE HEADWALL: Yeah the guys who came up with this race were truly demented to set up a course with the kind of steep gain that the shut in holds for the last mile. It was brutal to say the least but I was able to keep moving. I began passing other casualties on the way up including one guy stetched out on his back in a small patch of grass beside the trail hands behind his back in a very relaxed pose. A little odd but oh well. In the middle of the headwall I realized that nobody was gaining on me even though there were people behind me. I began to delude myself into thinking maybe I can hold off any runners behind me. I could hear them talking and at a few switchbacks even saw them behind and below me but still managed to stay out in front of them. It was also at this time that I began realizing that a sub four hour result was probably doable. When I crested the final rise the steep descent to the finish began and my crampy and shaky legs became all the more unsteady. At this point I was hopping/ hobbling down the very stepped and rocky trail. I passed a couple of people who had finished and were coming back up the trail to cheer friends and fellow runners on. And then I could hear the crowd at the finish, the traffic on the road below and before I knew it I had popped out of the rododendrun into the short steps and finishing clock area.

I made sure I found where to get my t-shirt as I got hugs from Amy, Carter, and Dan who even snapped a few pics for us. I was wasted. Later when I picked up my camelback I noticed the salt crust on the shoulder straps and the level of salt depletion became readily apparent as a possible explanation for the cramps. But with t-shirt and 3 hour 54 minute finish under my belt I just wanted to get a shower and relax. We had a post run celebration at Barley's Taproom in downtown Asheville after a quick visit to Laura's studio.

Powered by CAKE

2007-12-19T07:29:00.000-08:00

OK true confession time here. The real reason I have taken on these ridiculous running challenges is that it gives me an excuse to stuff my face with as many sweet things as I can find. Normally that has meant intentional denial of the self by simply not buying anything sweet ( if you really believe this I've got some ocean front property for sale). For those of you reading this that don't know I work in a school. In the top drawer of my filing cabinet is "THE STASH". For the past four years I have worked directly across the hall from a diabetic teacher. First it was Steve and now it's been Dave since last year. They have provided a rather convenient excuse to keep sugary items in this top drawer as an "EMERGENCY" supply of blood sugar spiking goodness. With Steve who rarely touched the stash I had to seek further justification. For a while I was the middle school hall's chocolate fix. For a while there I was even getting high quality regular contributions to keep the drawer stocked. We're talking HIGH QUALITY expensive dark chocolate goodies here. Now with Dave on the other hand who regularly comes calling there's been an increase in the variety of offerings including even some healthy fruit bars.

But I digress. We are currently in that magical HOLIDAY time of year. The flow of sweet treats through the staff mail room is ceaseless and of very excellent variety. Resting now for the temptation of all (particularly me) is the remnant of the cake from yesterday's faculty/holiday party meeting. What this time of year means for me is a time of hoarding any of the food gifts given by my students into the stash like a squirrel stocking up for the apocalypse while at the same time packing into my orafice any and all manner of sweet, savory, or salty snackage that appears on the mail room table. It's kind of like a bear packing on the calories for a deep winter sleep. Anything that will not last in the stash for at least a month is of course brought home to share. However, as Amy is also at a school she also brings home countless delights.

Which brings me back to the topic of cake. I can think of no other baked good that can bring the sheer volume of gastro-intestinal-emotional interactive joy than cake. Occurring in such a preposterous variety of forms I am convinced that there exists a cake for everyone. Frosting or no, dense or light, singularly flavored or a Potpourri of melding spices, how can you not love cake? I will not get into the hierarchies of cake divisions here but ponder if you will another more perfect blend of sugar delivery system. I myself cannot.

Zircon's Run Criteria

2007-12-18T12:48:00.000-08:00

In the past few years I have run only a handful of official races. But now that I am getting more serious about running I find that the races I choose still follow the same methods of selection as the others. Listed below are my general selection criteria for races.

Cost: The most easily overridden factor effecting race selection. Can be trumped by any other of the criteria listed below.

Difficulty: not a primary factor unless the race is deemed to be difficult and then this can be a reason in and of itself to run.

Novelty: Somewhat related to difficulty but also how unique the race is considered. Also in my nerdish tendency are there facts and history of the race that have to be learned to fully appreciate it? (see also Cult Appeal)

Cult Appeal: Somewhat related to Novelty. Is this race widely known or simply known by "The Inner Circle". Definately more appealing the more secretive the sense.

Regional: Location, location, location. I'm not big on road tripping for races unless of course the location of the race is a desireable destination all by itself. IE The Cooper River Bridge Run in Charleston, SC.

Convenience: not just in getting to the race itself but post race proximity to amenities (showers, good food, or other fun post race activities) This has led to the abandonment of a race or two. Amy and I were once signed up for a 10k in Fairbanks, AK during our summer trip there. After spending several days in essentially the least exciting location in Alaska we bailed the afternoon of the race literally a couple of hours prior to the start. Perhaps we should have stuck around and ran the race but looking ahead at a three day back-country trip and nowhere to get clean after the race, not to mention a 4-5 hour drive to get down to Denali National Park. We woosed out.

Shwag: Also can tip the scales for or against a race. Tech t-shirts, cool design shirts, long sleeve shirts, and othe gdunk. Aside from the BEAR all other races I have run have had only t-shirts. By far the coolest shirt has got to be the Shut-In Finisher long sleeve. It became a huge part of my motivation to finish despite cramping through the last six miles. (see Shut-In Run report). Although I still like the sound of the Virginia Creeper paper weight and no shirt.

Now as I look at future races while still training for my big upcoming first marathon, these criteria continue to influence my choices.

Shut In The Prelude

2007-12-18T10:14:00.001-08:00

So as I approached the end of this Summer I signed up and ran in a couple of "fun" runs on our return from the road. OK so the BEAR is not exactly what you'd call a "fun" run but it is a short distance that feels very rewarding to complete and also a run that can be done perhaps not in stellar style "off the couch". The Belle Chere 5k was definately one of those more enjoyable runs both in distance, difficulty, and in experience running it with our friends Dan and Laura. Laura has gotten more serious about running lately and is one of those people it is easy to get psyched about running just talking to her. Both Dan and Laura have run a marathon in exceedingly fine style doing one of those programs where they raised money along the way of their training for a worthy cause then culminating in the successful running of a marathon in Montana a few years back. After the Belle Chere I was looking through the stack of swag and noticed a race called the Springmaid Splash billing itself as an extreme 10k . Come to find out Dan and Laura were already registered and so I quickly made up my mind to run it as well. The 10k distance was not overly intimidating even though the course was described as a single track with lots of hills and something about 4 stream crossings. Needless to say I was beginning to get sucked in. A thought was kindled in these days of running a race I had heard about, knew a few people that had run, and was a monumental accomplishment in my mind. They called it the Shut-In. Dah Dah Dah!!!

The Shut-In was the devious creation of the Lower Arden Track Club some time back in the seventies. They came up with a no-frills pure running (read that as sadistic challenge to any moron willing to inflict intentional prolonged suffering on themselves). I had heard of it off and on since leaving Asheville several years ago. It was always talked about with a certain reverence. Perhaps that is because it represented a 17.8 mile course climbing several thousand feet as it rolled upwards from the NC arboretum paralleling the Blue Ridge Parkway all the way to the trailhead parking lot for Mount Pisgah. I guess it could have been worse and actually gone to the summit of Mt. Pisgah but the parking lot finish was plenty heinous I would no doubt discover.

I knew of a couple of people that had run the S.I. One was a dominating female Ultra-runner who actually had won events with distances like 50 and even 100 miles. Not exactly someone that would naturally inspire me to think I could do this. The other was the principal of my school. Wayne although a few years younger than I was not an uber athlete. I had seen him completely transform himself a few years back when I first ran the Bear. In the midst of a divorce he had thrown himself into running, dropped several pounds, and a few years later was still training and running consistently. He ran it the first year he became principal of my school. After hearing his account that year 2005, I actually began to consider the possibility. Wayne's story was inspirational in the way that you begin to believe that if you really did want to put yourself through something like this you could probably pull it off. Normally the distance itself was enough to snap me back to reality and say there's no way I would want to spend that amount of time actually running.

I have run off and on since high school when I used it as a way to get in shape for lacrosse. In college I started running a little more often on my own although I was never what you would call consistent. I would usually have a good couple of weeks and then wouldn't run for months. During this time though I could knock out up to six miles "off the couch" without too much difficulty. I even ran the odd fun run such as Cooper River 10k a couple of years. In 2004 going through a rather rough spot I ran the BEAR for the first time with almost no training. Since then I had run very little and was finding it difficult to motivate myself to get out. This Spring and Summer though something clicked and I found it enjoyable to have a goal to motivate me to run. By the time Springmaid rolled around I had pretty much made up my mind to enter. Leading up to Springmaid I had started running in and around my neighborhood which contains some sizeable hills in a rolling 4 mile course. Those runs paid off at Springmaid and although I didn't run all of the hills I was able to finish in just under an hour on a pretty demanding course. It was also secretly gratifying to catch and pass my friend Laura within the first half of the race. Back at the Belle Chere 5k I had caught up to within sight of her about 50-100 yards ahead of me in the last mile of the race. However, in the final half mile as the course headed into a downhill finish she kicked in the afterburners and I never saw her again. When I caught and passed her at Springmaid it was on a switchback uphill and I cruised past feeling great and saw it as a true sign of progression. At the completion of Springmaid as I sprinted to make it two seconds under 60 minutes I felt totally wasted. It was a feeling that was to hang with me until well into the next day. The post race conclusion was contradictory for me. On one hand I felt like I could do the Shut-In and wanted to work towards it. On the other had having completed roughly one third of its length on a demanding course it was becoming quite clear that this was going to be quite a challenge. But having accepted the realities I was now committed. A few weeks later when I downloaded the application it was with nervous excitement and also the lack of certainty that due to the limited number of slots that I would even get in. During this time I also began looking inadvertently at the Black Mountain Marathon. When I looked at the Shut-In it was billed as a race that was a pretty good predicter of a marathon performance. Although not as long in distance the elevation gain and difficulties yielded much longer times than the distance would suggest. I had been thinking of a marathon a friend had run the previous spring in Damascus, VA called the Virginia Creeper. It sounded like a great no frills first marathon and I was seriously considering it. I figured if I was going to run almost 18 miles I might as well take on a full 26.2. I'm sure you can imagine the internal dialogue or maybe not. It went something like.

"Yeah a marathon. That would be a nice personal accomplishment. Something to feel good about."

Little voice "But the longest you've run ever is 9 miles"

"Sure but I can train for this so many people pull this off."

Little voice "but you've always said you didn't enjoy running enough to want to do it for more than an hour."

Needless to say the little voice lost out in the excitement of possibility. He would come back every now and again to question whether I was really going to do this, but for the most part he was drowned out by the mental planning that happened incessantly around my training.

So I was committed and even decided that considering the amount of hill training I would be doing to prepare myself for the Shut-In that I ought to find a trail marathon that was more in line with the specific type of running I would be training for during the fall. Uh, that would be uphill running. I definately found a worthy challenge in signing up for the Black Mountain Marathon. But more on that later.

I spent the fall obsessing in the finest Zircon style over training runs and distances, hill running, and poured myself into reading anything on the web that could prepare me for what I had gotten myself into. I analyzed and re-analyzed the online topo map with the course super-imposed on it. I even managed to stay relatively diligent on my training regimen using a modified marathon plan I copied and taped into the cover of my school planning calendar. The miles started to build and even after an almost two week set-back involving a crick in my neck and the completion of our upstairs, I still felt good about my preparation. I also had worked in some runs up Howard's Knob and on to our neighborhood. They were grueling but a good measuring stick to see gains. My set-back had put me a little closer to the race with my longest runs but after a sixteen mile stretch in and around my neighborhood I felt as ready as I would get. Jelly legs and all I was out of time to get any longer runs in.