tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31682341769640837582024-03-20T23:02:39.728-07:00Tales From The FokeJohn Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-51273292040815852832016-12-14T09:18:00.000-08:002016-12-14T09:50:48.367-08:00Importance Of Wilderness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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'We must speak loudly for this silent place' -Amy Freeman</div>
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If my body had a low battery light it would have been
blinking…we had just finished the unofficial first half of the WNBA season,
condensed due to an extended Olympic break right in the middle of the
season. My wedding was 12 days away, but
I had a few free days to recharge before everyone descended upon the Twin
Cities. <br />
After talking things over with Ali, we decided we were in a good spot regarding
the wedding details and I could bounce to the Gunflint Trail. <br />
Our family has had a cabin on Hungry Jack Lake, just off the Gunflint Trail in
Northern Minnesota for many decades.
Originally purchased by my Great Grandpa, I have made it up there every
year of my life but one (shoulder surgery knocked me out in 2000) <br />
There are two cabins, a big cabin and a little cabin, and we are just a short
paddle across Bearskin Lake to the BWCA the ‘Crown jewel of Minnesota’ as
Governor Dayton called it recently. <br />
There’s running water and electricity, but no cell phone access, TV or
internet, the perfect place to unplug and charge up. <br />
I loaded my kayak on the roof of the car and hit the road at 6am on Wednesday
morning, light rain was falling as I pulled on to 35 and headed north, sipping
coffee from my Gunflint Trail mug that I use daily. <br />
The rain hung around until north of Temperance River before tapering off as I
pulled in to Grand Marais. <br />
Stopping at the store I loaded up on food, spend a little time hanging by the
water listening to a guy play guitar but I was itching to get up the trail and
out on the lakes in my yak. <br />
Turning on the dirt road off the trail there is always butterflies of
excitement in my stomach even to this day, the anticipation of getting to spend
time up here puts a lopsided, goofy grin on my face every time. This was my first trip back since a winter
stop over the year prior, and I couldn’t wait to get there. <br />
After unloading the car, I took the kayak down to the lake and immediately
hopped in, the clouds were low and gray, no wind moved as I glided across the
glassy surface of the lake. The silence wraps
itself around you up here. I paddled to the
far end of the lake into a bay and just drifted, leaning back I closed my eyes
and felt totally at peace, just a small speck floating in a big lake, mind
drifting but not thinking of anything, finally letting go. </div>
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Later that night as I sat on the dock eating dinner the sun peeked out for a
moment and in that instant I heard the sound of kids, flying from the neighboring
cabins down to their docks and SPLASH, in they went. <br />
It reminded me of all the years we came up as kids, my brothers and I spending
all day on the dock. Swimming, eating
lunch, fishing, swimming in the afternoon, sailing, canoeing. Dock days we called them, lunch was summer sausage
with cheese, crackers and apples on paper plates held down by rocks so they
didn’t blow away. Nights were spent
playing cards against Mom and Grandma, losing money to Grandma and her refusing
to play the next hand until you paid up…having to take that walk from the big
cabin to the little to get your wallet and make good. <br />
For a few years, all the kids we grew up with playing at the Cabin had grown up
and you didn’t hear those sounds as much, but now there was a new crop of
kids. I heard shouts of kids playing
king of raft, laughing, splashing, saw them canoeing in the little bay in front
of their dock. It put a smile on my face
to see these kids playing in nature, not playing Poke Mon Go, or staring at a
screen. <br />
The next day I put the kayak in early with a plan to head into the BWCA, for
the past few years I had been supporting efforts to Save the BWCA from mining
operations that could pollute the watershed that flowed right into this
Wilderness Area. <br />
It scared me to think of this place being contaminated, not being able to float
in the middle of the lake and drink the water, not being able to peer deep down
on a sunny day and see the big fish that populate these lakes, not being able
to take my kids to these areas and jump in for a swim after a hot day of
paddling. <br />
The sun was shining this morning as I hopped in the kayak, even though it was early
I could already hear the kids down the lake splashing and paddling around. I paddled down to the first portage, one I
have done a million times. Shouldering
the kayak, I crossed the trail into Bearskin Lake. From there I had to cross the lake to the Daniels
Portage, there was little more chop on Bearskin as there always seems to be. </div>
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Looking to my left you could see the rocky top of Caribou Trail, to my right several
canoes headed out from Menogyn, and others crossing the lake towards the Duncan
portage. <br />
As I slid into Daniels Lake I paddled along the bluffs on the left side,
remembering as kids coming here and fishing off those big rocks, the water so
clear you could see down to the even bigger rocks below and the shadows of
fishing swimming around. I remembered
lunching on those rocks, the way the sun warmed your skin as we reclined on the
rocks, each of us finding our own little ‘easy chair’ to relax in. <br />
I paddled further into the lake, debating on making the link up from here to
Rose Lake but not feeling the effort of that seriously long portage. <br />
The sun was high, not a cloud in the sky, just a deep blue with a light wind, I
paused at the far end of the lake, drifting, watching the shoreline reflect on
the surface of the lake. Our wedding was
a little over a week away, the hay was in the barn as my brother liked to say,
I was excited to welcome everyone in town and more excited to pledge my love
and my life to Ali. She loved coming to
this place too, and the thought of one day bringing our family to follow some
of the same trails that I trod as a kid was a great vision. <br />
Heading back to the portage I ran into a guy and his brother, about my age with
their two kids climbing into their canoe.
The guy mentioned it was the kids first trip the BWCA, he had been
coming up for years but finally they were old enough to handle the canoeing and
camping and they were headed out for a few days. It was so great to see, another generation of
kids heading into the Wilderness, learning to love it as their parents did, that’s
what this area needs, defenders of all ages, people who understand the
importance of preserving it for the next generation and the one after that and
so on. </div>
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I portaged over to Duncan Lake, remembering the time my Dad, brother and I were
on this lake, the wind was driving hard, the waves crashing against the side of
our big old Grumman canoe, Paul was in the front, Dad in the back, me on the
bottom of the boat in the middle hanging on to the sides as waves splashed
over, praying we would make it to shore safe.
Little different today in my kayak with very little wind. <br />
Knifing through the water I headed towards the Rose Lake portage, looking at
the shore recalling all the hiking trips we’ve taken over the years along the
Border Route trail that connects through here.
It’s amazing how certain trees remind you of things, there was a spot
where for some reason Alex started singing Sugar Ray and how every time I see
that spot that song pops in my head, the part where my body was wrecked with
cramps while running back here and I had to gut it out to the road with my
brother and cousin, skiing through here during a winter trip to the frozen
falls. So many memories.</div>
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I left my boat at the portage, walking down the stairway portage to Rose,
laughing at the thought of last summer here with my uncle, cousins and brothers
and the laughs we shared over lunch by the lake. </div>
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Crossing the stream, I headed to my favorite spot, but this time it looked
totally different, a few weeks’ prior a huge storm had ripped through the area
uprooting trees and changing the landscape. <br />
Making my way to the bluff I saw my usual spot was gone but in its place, was a
new ‘easy chair’ I reclined on the rock, sheltered from the sun by the root
base of a tree that had been uprooted by the storm. I settled back, wrapping myself in the
silence, gazing off towards Canada and Arrow Lake, feeling a light breeze blow through
occasionally, and eventually drifted off to sleep. The kind of naps you dream about at work
sometimes. <br />
I woke slowly as the sound of people drifting over the roots to my sheltered
little spot. A family was taking in the
views too, we chatted for a while before I headed out, paddling across Duncan
to the Moss Lake portage. <br />
Dropping into Moss the sun was arching towards the west, I thought of the times
I have camped on this lake, the epic sunsets, eagles soaring overhead, the time
spent just sitting on the big log at the portage shooting the bull with whoever
I was with. The laughter, one of the
best parts of canoe trips, the silly little things that make you crack up. How easy it is to open up to your paddling
partners, the conversations that span the absurd to the serious. <br />
I paddled into the lake letting my thoughts drift over to my vows, how do you
tell the woman of your dreams how much she means to you? How do you put into words how much you love
and care about her? Is it possible to
take all those feelings and compress them into a few sentences? The thing about Ali that I knew right from
the start, was how right it felt. How
comfortable I was, how I could be myself without judgement, how all I wanted to
do was make her laugh, spend time with her. <br />
As I floated thinking about all those things, I thought about this land
too. How do you put in to words how
special this area is? How can someone
who has never put a paddle in the water and floated through a crystal-clear
lake understand why we shouldn’t allow a mining operation on the edge of this
Wilderness? <br />
It can be hard to put into words what this place means to people, it’s a silent
place that can’t speak for itself, you need to show people what it means that’s
why I thought the Freeman’s year in the Wilderness was so important. To shine a light on this area, bring it to
the public mind, make people understand we don’t have many spaces like this
left and how important it is to keep it wild. <br />
I relaxed on the dock that evening, listening to the sounds of the loons as the
sky faded to black and the stars began to come out. The sound of the kids playing in the lake
slowly quieted as it began to get dark and the silence was total. It was a quick trip, but amazing what it did
to recharge my battery and fill my soul.
I closed my eyes, imaging for a moment sitting here in the future with
my wife and family, soaking in the beauty of this place and hoping that it
would stay as it is for that to happen. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Details on how you can help can be found here </div>
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https://www.savetheboundarywaters.org/</div>
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-43389305779375913502016-11-26T10:41:00.002-08:002016-11-26T10:41:36.227-08:00#SaveTheConfluence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">May
you walk gently through the world, and know it’s beauty, all the days of your
life-</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“It
would start right there,” Matt said pointing to an outcropping near the rim of
the Grand Canyon “Then it would angle down to that point there, and eventually
to the floor of the Canyon.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
We were standing on the Beamer trail a few hundred feet above the Colorado
River, squinting into the sun reflecting off the glowing Canyon walls, on our
way to the Confluence of the Colorado and the Little Colorado, hoping to catch
it on one those days where the minerals in the Little gave it that blue/green
coloring. <br />
This was my second attempt to reach the Confluence, an adventure Matt had put
in my head two years prior, but one that he had been planning for since 2010,
having two previous attempts thwarted. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
Matt was a Canyon addict, he knew everything there was to know about this giant
hole in the ground. He knew all the
trails on both the South and North sides, the history of those trails, the
stories of the people those trails were named after & could name all the
landmark buttes, bluffs and explain the difference between the type of rock in
the Red Wall to the Tonoto level. He was
the perfect guide, historian, and adventure buddy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
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Together we had made four other hikes into the Canyon, and spent the time
between those journey’s plotting and scheming the next one. <br />
Until 2014 I had never been to the Grand Canyon, but when I was in Patagonia,
Chile for an Ultra Marathon in September of 2013 I got to chat with a lot of folks
from other countries and the conversation usually turned to them asking me if I
had been there. I said no, and they were
shocked, they had all traveled from Australia, Chile, Argentina, Brazil, Japan
and beyond and been there, why had I not? I lived there and didn’t check out
the beauty in my own backyard? </span><br />
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After returning from that trip I began to really dig in to the Canyon, I
planted to seeds of a Rim To Rim To Rim attempt (running from the south rim to
the north rim and back via the corridor trails) with two of my buddies Greg and
Mitch and then reached out to Matt who lived in PHX and who I knew spent a lot
of time in the Canyon. </span><br />
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Matt and I had worked together in Minneapolis for a short time, and while we
had a lot in common had never really had an opportunity to get to know each
other before he and his wife moved to PHX for a new job. <br />
I shot him an email, did he have any advice about the Canyon, thoughts on the
R2R2R…what came back was a detailed, mile by mile breakdown not only of the
trails we would cover but what he brought on his attempts with his
brother. That kicked off a correspondence
that has not stopped since. </span><br />
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We tried to rendezvous that Spring during our R2R2R attempt but despite all the
information Matt provided, this was a lot bigger of a journey than we thought. Our attempt started & finished in the
dark that day while Matt drove up from PHX and went rim to river and out,
making it back home before we climbed out. <br />
That summer I was in PHX for work and we connected, talking of the Canyon and
began to plan a backpacking trip that fall, I was hooked, couldn’t get the
Canyon out of my mind. </span><br />
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In the fall of 2014, my technically 3<sup>rd</sup> trip into the Canyon (after
our R2R2R Ali had flown in and met us, she and I did a tour of Sedona, Zion
& then did the Canyon rim to river over the course of a week) Matt, his
brother Ben & I were planning a long weekend loop down the Tanner trail on
the East end of the Canyon along the Escalante and back out. </span><br />
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When we reached the river that day, Matt & I posted up under some trees
right on the shore playing Uno and cooling off in the river while waiting out
the worst of the heat. It was there Matt
told me about the Confluence, this magical place where the water flows
blue/green and you can see the complete contrast with the green of the main
Colorado. It sounded amazing, we had
driven along the Little on our way into the Park from the East end and you
could see where it cut through the ground before joining up with the Colorado. <br />
After returning to MN from that trip, we began to shoot emails back and forth
again, adventures we wanted to try, environmental issues that were threatening
some of our favorite spots (development along the south rim of the Grand Canyon
being a big one at the time) we signed petitions to make our voices heard and
then Matt brought up the Confluence. </span><br />
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Since that last trip, I had researched it and seen the pictures, read what it
meant to the Navajo people and the mining ruins along the trail. <br />
Matt secured a permit and that fall we gave it a shot. I arrived in PHX on a Sunday morning, originally,
we had planned to head straight to the Canyon but it was getting blasted by
rain so we spent the day at Matt’s house with his wife and two sons, heading
out around 4am the following day. </span><br />
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That backed our itinerary up meaning things were going to have to go perfect
for us to complete this ’37-mile knee-buckling’ (according to backpacker
magazine) journey. <br />
The first day was great, sun was shining, the journey down Tanner was smooth
(smooth as could be expected) we had to do some route-finding along the bluffs
above the river and through the tamarisk we eventually made it to our campsite,
tired, hot and dusty but no worse for wear. <br />
From there, things didn’t go as planned, the river was running brown, full of
sediment making filtering an issue, not to mention problems with our stove and
dark clouds in the distance we never made it beyond Palisade Rapid. </span><br />
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It was raining when we woke up and while we waited for it to taper off we
realized we were not gonna make it out to the Confluence. The trail is a few hundred, if not thousand
feet above the river, offering no chance at water (and with our filtering
issues we wouldn’t have been able to get drinkable water anyway) the rain just
wouldn’t stop plus our weather report showed worse storms still to come. <br />
So, we packed up and headed back out, one day busting tail all the way down
only to turn and head back out the next, reaching the car just as the storm arrived. </span><br />
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We would be back, we just didn’t know when…. during the winter, Matt sent me a
link about more development threatening the Grand Canyon & the Confluence
specifically. There was a group who
wanted to build a tram from the top of the Canyon down to the bottom, ending right
at the Confluence. This threat had been
made before but suddenly it had legs under it and was moving swiftly. <br />
We signed petitions, made our voices heard in online forums opposing the
development, urged our friends and family to do the same. </span><br />
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As winter turned to Spring, my brother, buddies Mitch & Cano meet Matt at
the Canyon for another R2R2R adventure and he again spoke of the threats to
this amazing area. </span><br />
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A few weeks after returning I got an email from him, it was a forward from the
National Park Service approving his permit request back to the Confluence…there
was no note from Matt just the permit. <br />
I sat at my desk, looking at the dates wondering if I could pull it off. I responded ‘Is there room on that bus for
me?’ Come hell or high water (or no
water in the case of the desert) we were gonna make it to the Confluence. </span><br />
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Over the next few months we traded emails plotting the trip, and talking about
how important it was to get there before it became developed. I remember one text from Matt that really
stood out ‘I can’t wait to be standing at the Confluence watching that blue-green
water flow, but more so I can’t wait to be standing there with my boys someday
telling them about the first time I made it out there and how it looks the
exact same” <br />
Just as the journey to the Confluence shouldn’t be as simple as stepping into an
air conditioned tram, getting there for me wouldn’t be easy either. Originally, I had planned to fly out Thursday
night, we would head to the Canyon camp on the rim, then hike to the river
& Palisade Rapid the following day, get to the Confluence the next, head
back to Tanner to camp & then climb out. </span><br />
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Instead the WNBA Finals went to game 5 and I had to change my flight to Friday
morning, we left the airport around 11am arriving at the Canyon in the
afternoon with a few hours of daylight remaining. <br />
Packed up quick and hit the trail, slowly making our way down the now familiar
Tanner Trail. <br />
We made it through the Red Wall before the sunset and hit the long, slow,
grinding Tonto layer as darkness fell.
Headlamps out, we just continued to grind, hitting the river around 6pm
in total darkness. <br />
From there we navigated the bluffs at the start of the Beamer trail, and
eventually settled on a campsite around 745 in the sandy area just beyond them. </span><br />
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The next morning, we rose around 6am, a solid breakfast of eggs and hash browns
to fuel up for a long day, 2.5 miles to our next campsite where we would drop
our packs, then another 6+ out to the Confluence and back. <br />
The weather was perfect, chilly in the shade as we headed toward Palisades,
right at river level, the mighty Colorado flowing fast and smooth to our left,
red rock to our right. This time there
was a lot less route finding, with no rain for the past few weeks the trail was
a lot easier to spot than last year. <br />
We found our site (dubbed ‘The Secret Garden’ after the Springsteen song)
dropped our big packs and pulled out day packs loaded with water and snacks. </span><br />
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We headed out knowing there would be a big climb at the start then just
following a relatively level trail in and out of the slot canyons down to the
Confluence. <br />
The initial climb didn’t mess around, we scrambled through the loose rocks,
leaning heavily into our trekking poles, stopping to catch our breath, partly
from the climb and partly to soak in the beauty of the sun rising, hitting the
canyon walls across the river making them glow. <br />
We were fortunate to be on the east side of the river so we were in the shade
for most of our hike out but we knew coming back we would be heading directly
into the sun. </span><br />
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We fell into a rhythm on the trail, making good time through the flat sections,
getting slowed as we navigated the ups and downs of each slot canyon (there are
something like 20 of them, some dropping a couple hundred feet only to climb
back up that on the other side to regain the trail.) </span><br />
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After a few hours, the left side of the river was totally in the sun and we
were starting to get some on our side, Matt walking ahead of me slowed to a
stop. We knew we were getting close, we
could see where the canyon split off to the right of Chuar Butte. </span><br />
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“Look, you can see it coming in!” He said.
I looked at the river, there was a sand bar in the middle of the river,
the Colorado was flowing green but along that sand bar there was a little
streak of the blue-green color that the Little Colorado flowed. We were close and with so little rain
recently both rivers were free of the usual sediment that causes them to flow
brown. </span><br />
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We rounded a bend and were stopped in our tracks, the contrast of colors, the
rivers together but separate like oil and water for a few hundred yards before the
main Colorado swallowed up the Little. </span><br />
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Hiking down to the shore we pulled our shoes off, sinking our feet in to the
freezing cold water, wading up to our knees through the clay-like sand,
laughing like children that we had finally made it to this sacred spot. <br />
The sky was such a rich, deep blue color, the side walls of the canyon a rich
gold, the Little Colorado aqua-blue, the main Colorado green, so much depth and
definition to the landscape. We sat on
rocks, in silence, soaking it all in. </span><br />
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Eventually we found some shade and settled in, listening to the flow of the
water, leaning back against rocks that made up nature’s easy chair, relaxing
after the effort of the past two days to get here. Life slowed to the essentials, water, food,
shelter. Matt talked of the mining ruins
along this trail, I drifted off momentarily letting the whirlwind of the past
few months go, feeling light, connected to the landscape, simple. <br />
After a few hours, we packed up wanting to get back to our camp while there was
still some daylight so we could filter water and cook up a big meal. </span><br />
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The journey back was challenging as we went into the sun, taking caution to
duck out of it and rest from time to time, eventually making it to our campsite
with plenty of daylight left. We
filtered water at the rapid, cooked dinner down there and settled onto some
rocks watching the sun set on an amazing adventure. </span><br />
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The Confluence is a sacred spot to the Navajo, and having been there I can see
why. Not knowing that it was minerals
that caused the color of the water to change, one would believe there was
something mystical about it. Sitting at
its shore and watching it flow, even now knowing about the mineral deposits, it
still feels mystical. The Canyon ecosystem
is held together so finely that any sort of disruption to it would have far
reaching effects. It reminds me of that
Simpsons episode where Mr. Burns is told he has every disease ever discovered
but they are all balancing each other out which is why he hasn’t died. But, the doctor warned, ‘one common cold
could kill you’. To which Mr. Burns
replied ‘So you’re saying I’m invincible…’ </span><br />
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That is how I feel the Canyon is, and how people think of it. It’s an environmental marvel, but it’s very
fragile and we’ve already seen the impact that the dams have had on it and
other developments. You need to work
with the Canyon, in unison, not think ‘It’s invincible’ because it’s not. </span><br />
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A development like the Escalade project would not just impact and possibly soil
the Confluence, but it would have an even greater impact long term throughout
the entire Canyon. <br />
I would encourage everyone to oppose this project and other developments within
the Grand Canyon, sometimes it’s okay for things to be hard to get to, sometimes
things are better left alone, left wild, we need to think of the long-term
impact not a short-sighted benefit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-81240319932348647582016-05-06T12:11:00.000-07:002016-05-06T12:11:45.921-07:00R2R2R #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Do not imagine the journey is short; and one must have the heart of a lion to follow this unsual road, for it is very long...one plods along in a state of amazement, sometimes smiling, sometimes weeping."<br />-Peter Matthiessen 'Snow Leopard'</div>
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were a few miles into the 1<sup>st</sup> Annual (even though that doesn’t make
sense, we are hoping it become annual) Turkey Trudge when I broached the
subject. <br />
You’ve heard of Turkey Trots, a local 5-10K race before everyone pounds food
for the rest of the day. Well this year
Mitch texted me on Monday night while I was working and said ‘You want to run
26 on Thursday morning?’ I thought about
it…last time Mitch & I ran together was at the Wild Duluth in October, wasn’t
sure I had a marathon in me in 3 days but thought ‘what the hell, been a while
since I’ve seen Mitch might be fun.’ So I agreed and the Turkey Trudge began to
take shape.</span><br />
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We would meet at my house in Mpls, and I would be in charge of 13 miles in my
city arriving at the Minneapolis-St. Paul border where Mitch would take over
with 13 miles eventually ending at his house where his wife & kids would
give us a ride back. (In the end it
turned into 27 miles with some fun snow & trail running, hopefully we do
get it again next year.) </span><br />
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Anyway, early in the Turkey Trudge I floated the idea to Mitch…’Would you be
interested in doing the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim run again this spring?’ When I was in the Canyon in the fall, my
buddy Matt and I kicked the idea around, he had tried to run it once but didn’t
quite make it, but had hiked it numerous times.
This year he was thinking maybe he would have enough time to train. <br />
Mitch, Greg & I had run it back in 2014 and while we finished & had a
great time, physically it took a toll on us.
So as Mitch & I talked about it that early, snowy November morning
we talked of lessons learned from the first go round and what we might change
this time. </span><br />
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By December the plan began to take shape, Matt was in, Mitch was in, my brother
Alex was in, and a buddy from Ohio U, Cano wanted to join from Florida. Emails began to fly as the route was plotted,
maps were studied and training kicked into high gear. </span><br />
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That’s how we found ourselves standing in the PHX airport, Alex, Mitch &
myself having arrived early Thursday morning (somehow Mitch & were dressed
exactly alike) waiting on Cano to arrive with the rental car. Once there we piled in and drove North to
meet Matt. </span><br />
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We loaded up on supplies at a local Walmart before hitting the road for a
roughly 3 hour ride to the Canyon. <br />
Along the way the conversation rolled from races we’ve run, books we’ve read,
and what kind of things we would need for this adventure. The weather was a real wild card, the canyon
was getting hit with rain/snow and cold temps, but the forecast changes
seemingly by the hour making it hard for us to plan ahead. <br />
After driving through rain, snow & sleet we finally arrived at the Canyon
only to find it socked in by a wall of clouds and fog. Like nothing I had ever seen before. You couldn’t see anything, there was a
massive gaping hole right in front of us but as we stood at Shoshoni Point all
we saw was a dull grey, like standing too close to a wall in an old building. </span><br />
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We waited and slowly the canyon showed itself, a Grand Peep Show if you
will. Clouds parted to show glimpses of
the red, white and green buttes and mesas that make up one of the most amazing
places on earth. <br />
Eventually we got a full look deep into the canyon & all the way across to
the North Rim before snow began to fall & we headed back to the car. A quick lunch and peek in to the abyss at
Bright Angel lodge and we were back at the hotel beginning to sort out what we
would carry the next day. </span><br />
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Over the course of the months leading up to this trip Alex and Matt decided
that they would hike for the day instead of run. Both are very strong hikers and wanted to
experience the Canyon that way. They
would start shortly after we did and take the same route down and out but in
between explore some different areas. <br />
So it was Mitch, Cano & I worrying over do we bring a rain coat and a long
sleeve or just one, how many Cliff bars, sandwiches can we fit, how much water
to start. After a half hour or so our
packs were loaded, heavy with food, water and trekking poles. (The trekking poles were a new addition this
trip, something we didn’t have in 2014 and they would make a world of
difference.) </span><br />
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Grabbed a quick dinner and crashed out with alarms set for 315 in the morning. <br />
We rose, ate and hit the road arriving at the trailhead by 430. A quick goodbye to Matt & Alex and we
dropped in to the inky abyss. </span><br />
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Moving slowly over the dark trails, working to get our footing we treaded
lightly down South Kaibab trail.
Skipping over the logs in the trail, donkey leftovers and puddles from
the previous day’s rain/snow we eventually made it to Skeleton point where we
got our first glimpse of the inner canyon. <br />
The sun was slowly rising to our right and behind us a trail of head lamps
followed, groups of runners who took the first shuttle bus starting their run. </span><br />
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The first 7 miles are quad crushingly downhill, not only that but you’re
constantly skipping over rocks, logs and other obstacles that make it even more
challenging. Mitch & I had the benefit
of nothing having run it before but spending a lot of time running trails in
MN, while Cano didn’t have the experience coming from Florida. You could see he was trying to find his
rhythm on the trail, thinking about where to place his feet so as not to turn
an ankle or go down. </span><br />
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The sun was up when we hit the Tip-Off and got a great view of the green water
of the Colorado flowing through the Canyon.
We worked out way down the final sections of switchbacks arriving at the
river in under 2 hours which was what I had hoped. </span><br />
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Made our way to Phantom Ranch and filled up with water and grabbed a snack
knowing it was a tough 7 miles to our next stop Cottonwood. <br />
We left Phantom and headed into the Box, a narrow section following Bright
Angel creek, in 2014 this was the section that coming back was the hardest
mentally. The walls of the canyon soar
seemingly straight up but tease you with views of the south rim. You think you’re almost there but every time
you turn a corner there is another wall.
On the way out in ’14 we also didn’t realize that you climb nearly 1,500
feet over this section and went out hard before realizing how hard it was. </span><br />
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This time around Mitch and I found our normal rhythm, running and talking like
a couple of old hens at a bridge game.
We talked of work, music we were listening to, and counted the bridges
so we knew how many we’d cross on the way back. </span><br />
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During this stretch Cano dropped back, searching for his own rhythm but
struggling with the altitude. Even
though were at the bottom of the Canyon we were still around 2,500 feet above
sea level and for someone who lives at or below sea level even this was a
challenge. </span><br />
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Together the three of us walked for a while as we cleared the Box into the open
section of inner canyon. The sun was
high now, a few clouds hanging over the South and North rims but clear where we
were. Mitch & I surged ahead for a
while rolling into Cottonwood in under 2 hours, feeling strong and like we were
working but not pushing. We met a group
of 4 women who were running it there, they were just ahead of us and we would
leap frog each other throughout the day. </span><br />
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As we filled water, and grabbed some food Cano rolled in and said he was
done. He felt fine, but was struggling
running so he was planning on just hiking for the rest of the day. We went over a plan on where to meet after
and made sure he was okay physically before we headed off to our next stop, The
Pumphouse. <br />
Cottonwood to Pumphouse is a quick jaunt, we arrived in around a half hour,
signed the chalk board and pulled out our trekking poles for the climb to the
North Rim. </span><br />
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We leaned into the climb, aided by our poles and set a nice pace up to Roaring
Springs and then plowed through the layer cake that makes up this ascent. </span><br />
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Starting with the green layer, combining running and power hiking (walking with
a purpose we called it) we moved into the red layer which is some of the most
beautiful rock I’ve ever seen. We switch
backed up through there, crossing the bridge and headed to Supai Tunnel. Just beyond the tunnel we came across a small
older man who was pushing through the climb without the aid of poles, but with
a pack and a mountain bike strapped to his back. <br />
We recalled that there was a mountain bike race called the Arizona Trail Ride
which started a few weeks ago and followed a trail from the Mexican border all
the way to Utah and that part of it went through the Canyon. But you weren’t allowed to bike on the Canyon
trails so people had to carry their bikes on their back. This guy said he’s slept for a few hours in
the rain/snow last night and had just been humping this huge pack the rest of
the time. He was beyond inspiring and
humbled us, every time you started to think you were tough, there was always
someone stronger. It was amazing to see
him just slowly making his way up. </span><br />
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We left him and continued our climb, low clouds hung over the final layer of
this cake, the white layer. It felt like
we were getting closer but the clouds always felt just beyond our reach. Switchback after switchback, were we getting
closer to the top or was it moving away from us? </span><br />
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Finally, we caught the clouds and moved into the ponderosa pine which signified
the top of the North Rim. <br />
As we stepped out of the trees at the North Rim we came across another biker
who had just finished carrying their bike through the Canyon. After I committed a social faux pau (I was so
impressed when I arrived at the rim by the biker I bellowed ‘You sir are
amazing’ only to have them turn around and reveal it was a woman, I quickly
countered with ‘You mam are amazing’…next time a simple ‘hello would probably
do.) </span><br />
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We chatted with her for a bit as we filled our water, turned out she was from
Ohio and had gone to Ohio University, same college as me, and was now 15 days
into her ride with 60 miles left. It was
truly amazing. <br />
This was planned as one of our longer stops, prior to the North Rim our stops
had averaged around 8 minutes, 10 tops. We made to the North Rim in under 7
hours which we were very excited about.
Fill up, get some food down, check gear/shoes etc. and keep moving. Here though we sat down, ate a sandwich (or
choked it down in Mitch’s case) sent a text via Sat Phone to Matt & Alex,
updated them on Cano’s deviation and plan and rested in total for about a half
hour. </span><br />
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In 2014 on the way back down from the North Rim I flew, tossed myself at the
hill like a snowboarder dropping in a halfpipe.
It was one of the most amazing things I have done, totally dialed in
flying down the switchbacks, but in the process I wrecked my feet and toes and
it made the rest of the run a challenge. <br />
This time Mitch & I worked together, I followed him at a much more
deliberate pace taking care of not only my feet and toes but also my
quads. The sun was coming through the
clouds now and we knew we’d have a hot run back through the inner Canyon and
the box. Our conversation never lagged,
chatting with people on their way up who dogged us for trailing the group of
women who were a few hundred yards in front of us. <br />
We rolled back to the Pumphouse, made a quick stop to stow long sleeve shirts
and then I took the lead, back to Cottonwood where we would fill up for our
final long run section. Packs were heavy
with water as we set out from Cottonwood, sun beating down we set a solid,
steady pace though the heat. </span><br />
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The plan on the way back was to take what we thought was a short cut to Ribbon
Falls, check out the falls (and bypass a big ridge that would require a hearty
uphill.) We made it over to the falls,
enjoyed the view then began to search for the rest of our short cut. What we didn’t realize was there was no
bridge back across the creek. <br />
Rather than backtrack to the bridge we found a cairn pointing to the short cut
but had to ford the creek in the process.
We took off our socks and shoes and stepped into the icy cold
water. It took your breath away but felt
great on our battered feet. The rocks at
the bottom acting as little massagers as we waded to the other side. </span><br />
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Once there we dried our feet, put on fresh socks and continued on towards the
Box. <br />
We hit the Box feeling strong despite the heat.
We had plenty of water and mentally knew what was ahead of us. I took the lead and set a fast pace through
this section which now helped us by being slightly downhill. Our conversation slowed and eventually
stopped as both of us locked in knowing that this section could make our break
our run. To this point we had been very
smart, not pushing, monitoring calories, hydration, pace but now we knew get
through this section and while there was still a formidable climb ahead the
worst was over. </span><br />
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Bridge one, done, then bridge two, bridge three shortly after that. We slowed and walked for a bit as the sun
sapped our energy, then bridge four and finally bridge five. Another half mile or so and we made it
Phantom Ranch. We stopped and rested in
the shade, both feeling the effort of that section. Drinking as much water as we could and just
relaxing for a few minutes. Still roughly
10 miles to go but in our minds the worst was behind us. </span><br />
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We filled up at Phantom knowing on the way out only Indian Garden (about the
midway point) had water. We walked and
ate down to the river, crossed the bridge and began the rolling river
trail. After a few minutes trying to get
our legs to work running in sand we just pulled out the trekking poles and did
a combo power hike/run until we turned on to Bright Angel trail. </span><br />
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In 2014 by the time we hit this section on the way out we had to use our
headlamps and never really got to see what it looked like. <br />
This time the sun was till high in the cloudless sky and we drank in the
views. I had crushed a lot of food and
Phantom and was feeling it in my stomach as we leaned into the climb. Between the heat, and my body trying to
digest the hundreds of calories I slowed, focused on my breathing and waited
for my body to absorb it all. </span><br />
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As we had all day, Mitch took the lead.
Knowing I was struggling a little bit he led and kept up a steady stream
of conversation until it passed and I was back to normal. All day we switched off, if one needed a few
minutes to get through something instinctively the other took over. As we climbed the first rise I was back and
we continued our banter throughout the climb. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3mbY6Y66WWrTu__sYT0-dzNPnGPAzNXrt54u30VNDelFeazqYQi7RiZzQJ-uJd7su2XYL_QvgfE0ntllaDf8L9PCbsMa81IPEIknIul27c_gzLZw7_HQp3ImYeMuhJLHl5eBrF9bKeNU/s1600/IMG_6406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3mbY6Y66WWrTu__sYT0-dzNPnGPAzNXrt54u30VNDelFeazqYQi7RiZzQJ-uJd7su2XYL_QvgfE0ntllaDf8L9PCbsMa81IPEIknIul27c_gzLZw7_HQp3ImYeMuhJLHl5eBrF9bKeNU/s320/IMG_6406.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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After a few miles of desert type climbing trees began to appear around a creek
that ran down the South Rim, we knew we were getting close to Indian Garden. Eventually it appeared like an oasis, trees,
stream, buildings, benches, campground.
This was the last water stop over the final 5 miles out. We didn’t want to carry a ton of water weight
to the top so had to be smart. Filled up
bottles and decided to just keep draining our reservoirs in our packs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
Texted Matt & Alex who had met up with Cano on the South Rim so everyone
was together which was great. They were
just waiting on us. </span><br />
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Off we went, the trekking poles ticking like a metronome, setting the pace and
we followed. Switchback after
switchback, amazingly even this late into the adventure we felt good,
strong. Our splits from Indian Garden to
3-Mile rest-house to 1.5-Mile rest-house were eerily similar despite the fact
that it felt like we were slowing down. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsK4sOBFfo2CqiCXhaGrlcURVr6xS0sSkB_3GsFidsMPVI_HhAf3g18ZZ_L4vLqrkwipmgxv3fiNWL-tXAOQ3YcCK1f5079o41nrm4h1XgqwhUYOGwUTqGU-DauENKeO9ROHn0fAbWLh2V/s1600/IMG_6412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsK4sOBFfo2CqiCXhaGrlcURVr6xS0sSkB_3GsFidsMPVI_HhAf3g18ZZ_L4vLqrkwipmgxv3fiNWL-tXAOQ3YcCK1f5079o41nrm4h1XgqwhUYOGwUTqGU-DauENKeO9ROHn0fAbWLh2V/s320/IMG_6412.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The altitude forced us to work harder on the climb out but our pace stayed the
same. As always happens when you are
getting close to the end our conversation turned to food. Should we eat first then shower & hot
tub, or vice versa. After a few minutes
of debate, I finally just gave in and told Mitch all I wanted to do was lay
down on my back for like 5 minutes when we got out of here. I said ‘I don’t care what we do after that I
just want my 5 minutes’ we laughed remembering how I asked for the same thing back
in 2014. <br />
We were getting close, you could feel it, the sun had not quite set and we didn’t
need headlamps as we turned into the final switchback. Then I heard someone yelling, I turned back
to Mitch and said ‘That sounds like Matt.’
He responded ‘It is’ we looked up and there was Matt & Alex leaning
over looking down on us from the top of the rim. Everyone laughed and they headed down to meet
us at the final tunnel. We climbed out
together, 15 hours and 10 minutes to cover the roughly 48-50 miles of trail, a 4-hour
improvement over 2014.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />Everyone had a blast, Alex & Matt spend the day exploring and even spotted
a couple big horn sheep. Cano had spent
the day in the Canyon climbing out a few hours ahead of us, and everyone was on
a high.<br />
We grabbed some food headed back to the hotel where I finally got a chance for
my 5 minute lay down, making the most of it while smashing jalapeno poppers…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
In 2014 the day after our R2R2R adventure the three of us were walking like
extras in Michael Jackson’s Thriller video.
Barely able to move, quads, calves, feet shot. <br />
This time around we were moving better, not normal but a huge improvement over
last time. We lingered over the
breakfast buffet telling more stories from the previous day’s adventure while
rain/sleet/snow fell outside. </span><br />
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Cano had to head back to PHX that morning to fly back to FL, the rest of us
decided we felt good enough to take a hike and headed down Grandview Trail to Horseshoe
Mesa, a 6 mile round trip hike to an old miner’s cabin and more spectacular
views as the fog slowly lifted. </span><br />
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We ended the trip with an epic Uno battle in the hotel room, punch drunk with
laughter before crashing and heading home the next day. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic-kyyLxNNnMoV6xsPUPQedFUL1AV6g6g0JGxqTYLZ_86ymn0o6lgNirUXj8VM1oUvwFyQ85RPngFhiZ7SuESaXwOs2iWyta6d4bE3FdESVyE06xFO_n2kkkRv3_ZrCvpgyW8tsqpIEOMd/s1600/IMG_6467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic-kyyLxNNnMoV6xsPUPQedFUL1AV6g6g0JGxqTYLZ_86ymn0o6lgNirUXj8VM1oUvwFyQ85RPngFhiZ7SuESaXwOs2iWyta6d4bE3FdESVyE06xFO_n2kkkRv3_ZrCvpgyW8tsqpIEOMd/s320/IMG_6467.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-18802709475634891432015-11-04T17:56:00.000-08:002015-11-04T18:44:16.490-08:007 Days & 6 Nights<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“When you arise in the morning
think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love’
-Aurelius<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Another morning waiting for the
alarm to go off, laying in bed not sleeping.
I had strung a few of these nights together recently. First there was the excitement of Friday’s
win capped off by Maya Moore’s buzzer beating shot in Indy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
That was followed by a night
spend tossing and turning after a missed opportunity to clinch the title in
game 4 and now on this Wednesday morning I lay staring at the ceiling waiting
to hear Ali’s alarm go off. The
excitement, the unknown of a game 5. No
matter what happened tonight, win or lose the season was over. This long ride I’d been on since the
beginning of June calling every game, home, road, preseason, playoffs. It ended tonight one way or another. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was an air of excitement at shoot-around, a focused
Lynx team went over Indy’s sets again, at this point knowing them probably as
good as the Fever themselves. <br />
They answered the same media questions they’ve been answering for the past two weeks,
and finally after a long afternoon it was game time. <br />
Both teams got off to slow starts, just battling as you would expect with two
teams that by now are playing for the seventh time this season. At the half MN led 27-21 after their defense
held Indy to just 4 second quarter points.
<br />
In the 3<sup>rd</sup> the Lynx hit the gas, Head Coach Cheryl Reeve and her
staff always preach about finding those moments of separation. Well the Lynx found one and pulled away to
win their 3<sup>rd</sup> WNBA Championship in the past 5 years. Afterwards I was backstage watching the
players and coaches celebrate, thinking how happy I was for all of them. It had been a long season with tons of ups
and downs and yet this team found a way to accomplish their goal. Coming together and playing their best on the
biggest stage. Nothing had been easy and
it was fun to see the smiles on everyone’s faces at what they had accomplished. I kept thinking to myself, how lucky am I to
not only get to call this game but to be back here and join in the celebration.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At the party afterwards in
downtown Mpls, shortly after head Coach Cheryl Reeve had doused me with
champagne, word came out that Prince, who had attended the game, had invited us
out to his Paisley Park Studio for a personal show. It was already nearing midnight, I was
exhausted and had a big weekend coming up with the Wild Duluth race and then a
pretty ambitious hike in the Grand Canyon.
I told Ali I didn’t think I was going to go…I was tired…Ali said ‘You
are going to that show for both of us!
This is a once in a lifetime experience you go!’ <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So I hitched a ride out there and
walked into Prince mid-jam session on stage with a few others playing a full on
show to less than 100 members of the Lynx team and organization. The players loved it, dancing well in to the
night as Prince played past 4am. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ali was right it was a once in a
lifetime experience and I woke her up at 4am to tell her all about it…Prince
shredded and I love it! Had no idea what
to expect but again found myself telling Ali ‘I am the luckiest guy ever!’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
The next day was a rough one though, I had to work for a little bit to get
ready for the Championship parade and rally on Friday, also had to pack for the
Wild Duluth race and my trip to the Canyon as I would be leaving right from
Duluth. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Got a call that
afternoon from our PR manager saying that I was invited to breakfast at the
Governor’s residence Friday morning if I wanted to tag along…well of course I
did! Can’t pass up an opportunity like
that, so in addition to my running gear, hiking gear, parade and rally gear…I
would also be bringing a suit with me that morning.<br />
We took a bus over there, had a complete breakfast of salmon lox, quinoa/kale
salad and cake…to go along with the coffee, all before 10am. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It was a really cool experience to be in the Governor’s residence, just a few
weeks earlier I had run by there as part of my solo running of the Twin Cities
Marathon. Plus my mom works on a
committee to decorate the inside so I finally got a chance to see what she and
her crew work so hard on. <br />
After that it was back to Target Center to change into parade clothes and then
to the parade start. I found my car, a
red convertible driven by one of my co-workers….he claims he can drive a stick
but may have met his match with that car. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
We stalled out a few times as the parade got started, but I didn’t worry, it’s
gotta be hard trying to drive a stick at like 5-10 mph. But as we got closer to 7<sup>th</sup>
street, where the big crowds were, I started to smell something burning. I looked at the front of the car and smoke
was billowing out from under the hood.
The cops who were policing the parade noticed too and told my driver
‘You gotta get that thing off the road!’ so he gunned it, nearly dumping me off
the back in the process, and we ‘won the parade’ by being the first car to
Target Center. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
After the parade there was a big Rally at the arena that I had the chance to
host. It was a blast, up on stage in
front of all the cheering fans getting to interview the players and coaches was
so much fun. Again, standing off to the
side by the 3 Championship Trophies while the video montage played I was able
to take a look around and think ‘Good golly am I a lucky dude!’ </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span id="goog_1699392325"></span><span id="goog_1699392326"></span><br />
Once that wrapped I grabbed a quick lunch with my parents before hitting the
road for Duluth.<br />
I was meeting my buddies Mitch and Andy up there with plans to run the Wild
Duluth 100K. I had wanted to do this
race for a while and had run the 50K a few years back but on a vastly modified
course due to flooding and was excited that we were back on mostly the original
course. <br />
But I was also gassed…it had been a long week, a longer month and a really long
summer. I had not gotten in the type of
training I wanted to for this event, and honestly had added it only about a
month before when it became clear we just were not going to be able to make the
Zion Traverse happen. <br />
Earlier in the year I had a similar experience with the Afton 50k, added it
late was under trained and tired, and had to bail posting my first DNF. That one ate me up because I knew I could
have finished but just was out of gas. <br />
<br />
Going into this one, I was out of gas and I knew it. But I still wanted to run, wanted to spend a
day away from arenas, computers, the indoors.
Wanted to get out in the woods and see the fall colors, run with my
friends, just enjoy the day not matter what happened. <br />
I came to this race with no expectations and my only goal was to be able to fly
to PHX the next day and then kick off our Grand Canyon adventure. <br />
So after a funny and awkward dinner (thanks to our very strange waiter) we
crashed at the hotel laughing at how ‘Guys weekend’ had changed…into bed by 10
and up at 430 rather than the other way around. <br />
<br />
The plan was Mitch and I run through 42 miles, Andy meets us and pace us to
the end. That was the plan. We started in the dark, it was cold but not
unbearable, clear skies as we headed out following our headlamps up the hill
away from Bayfront Park, caught the sunrise over the city on the ridge and then
buckled in as we rolled towards the turnaround. <br />
The first couple of aid stations flew by, then we hit a stretch that wasn’t
that long in terms of miles but with leaves all over the trail we were
stumbling, kicking rocks and roots and constantly having to stop and look
around to see if we were still on the trail.
Eventually we made it through that section and ended up back on top of the
ridges headed towards Ely’s Peak with beautiful sweeping views of the St. Louis
River heading towards Lake Superior. <br />
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<br />
We hit the 20 mile mark feeling good, chatted with Andy and then headed
out. The next two sections were familiar
as we’d run and hiked over them many times in the past few years. Some ups and downs but a decent amount of
runnable sections and then the mountain bike section. Tons of rollers so you felt like you were
constantly going up or down and it was exhausting. On a bike it would have been awesome but
having to charge these little hills and then not get much momentum on the other
end was mentally frustrating and physically draining. <br />
<br />
Somewhere in this section Mitch mentioned he was not feeling it today. He had a huge summer, running hard at a
number of Ultra’s and posting some amazing times. I was really excited for him and the job he
did and could totally understand if he was spent. I too was pretty beat after my week but was
having so much fun enjoying the sun, woods and friends. <br />
We hit the turnaround in about 7 and a half hours and Mitch decided that was
enough for him. I had told him earlier that I would be fine bailing too, I was
thinking ahead to my trip to the Grand Canyon and the 40+ miles we planned on
hiking with 40lb packs on our backs and thought sometimes you gotta live to
fight another day. <br />
<br />
But I felt so good and was having so much fun that I told Mitch I wanted to get
at least another 10 in. So he waited for
Andy, I headed out and would see them in a few hours. <br />
Leaving Mitch was hard over the years the two of us have gotten each other
through some tough runs and pushed each other in others and I don’t think I
ever would have gotten out of the Grand Canyon in our Rim to Rim to Rim attempt
if it wouldn’t have been for his great attitude. <br />
But I knew he was fine, not hurt and had a ride coming so instead I just
settled into a steady run back through the mountain bike rollers, up on the
ridges, down the ravines, surprised at how good I felt and how strong I was
still running. <br />
<br />
My mind drifted to the summer. It had
not been an easy one, my schedule did not match up with Ali’s at all. It seemed like every time I was home she was
gone and when she was home I was on the road.
We had survived it and in the long run will be better for it not doubt
but it hadn’t been easy. But at the same
time the ride of calling a championship season and series that went the full
five games was a blast and literally a dream come true. From the days of dreaming calling
professional basketball to actually getting to do it, it was a trip! <br />
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<br />
Eventually I made my way back to the aid station where I was going to meet
Mitch and Andy and as I rolled in felt that I was good. I had accomplished what I set out to do, have
a fun day running in the woods, racked up roughly 43 miles, and I still felt
good which was awesome. I wanted to keep
feeling good and be ready to roll at the Canyon so I went to the officials and
told them I was ‘Opting for the short course’ and we headed back to shower and
get some grub at Fitgers. <br />
Once again we crashed early and the following day I was the only one to rise
early as I had a flight to catch. It was
so cold in Duluth that night I had to scrape frost off my car at 7am the next
morning. Fueled up with a coffee and hit
the road, rolling into my parent’s driveway a little after 930. Hopped out, tossed some of my left over
running food into my hiking pack and then tossed that into the Pilot. Said a quick hello/goodbye to my Mom who
would be heading to Paris the next day, then my dad drove me to the airport
where I caught a flight to PHX. <br />
<br />
I landed in PHX to 90 degree temps, a far cry from the windshield scraping I
had to do that morning. Met my buddy
Matt and his son and we headed to Matt’s place.
Due to storms ripping through the Canyon that afternoon/evening we opted
to stay at his place and then head up early Monday morning. <br />
That was just fine with me, another night in a real bed to help my legs recover
and try to get caught up on some sleep. <br />
We were on the road a little after 4 the next morning, jamming Bruce
Springsteen, swapping stories of adventures we’d had since the last time we saw
each other. Recounting our trip to the
Canyon last fall and the epic games of Uno. <br />
Watched the sun rise over the walls of rock that line the road leading to Grand
Canyon National Park and at 8am had parked at the Tanner trail head on the east
end of the south rim. We got out of the
truck to a roaring wind and freezing temps.
Both of us pulled out our rain coats, hoods up to keep us warm as we
loaded our packs and got ready to drop in.
The wind was incredible, similar to what Ali and I experienced our first
trip to the river and back. It just
assaults you from every angle and it whips around. <br />
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<br />
We loaded up and dropped in and as soon as we made it through the first
switchback and were below the rim, the wind dropped completely. I don’t mean it was a light wind, I mean
there was no wind at all and it was warm again.
So we stopped to shed our jackets and long sleeve shirts before
continuing towards the river. <br />
The Tanner trail is challenging, it’s a primitive, unmaintained trail with a
lot of huge steps up, down, over and around rocks. You rely a lot on your trekking poles and
balance and like many trail runs, it’s hard to go fast but easy to get out of
control. So we took our time, following
the trail to Stegosaurs Rock and stopping to look west towards Mather point the
classic Grand Canyon viewing point. <br />
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<br />
After that roughly thousand foot drop we had some level terrain for a while as
we wound along the buttes in front of Desert View Watchtower and finally turned
north at the top of the red wall and caught our first glimpses of the river. <br />
<br />
Until Mitch, Greg and I ran the Rim to Rim to Rim in the spring of 2014 I had
never been to the Grand Canyon. I don’t
know that I’d ever even seen if from a plane.
When we looked down into it that first time I was shocked at how much
as going on. I had thought it was pretty
straight forward, a canyon wall, the river, another wall. I had no concept of the buttes, mesas and
slot canyons that make up the Grand Canyon.
There is nothing straightforward about it. <br />
It was beautiful in its chaos, the most beautiful place I had ever seen. I remember hearing it once referred to as
‘God’s Playground’ because like a child’s sandbox it was constantly changing
due to the wind, water and other elements. <br />
<br />
A week after R2R2R, Ali and I had gone down to the river and back out on the
corridor trails, taking our time and I got to see it from a whole new
perspective. It literally was always
changing, the canyon walls change colors as the sun moves across or water falls
on them. The river can go from bright
green to chocolate milk and back again, the walls look like layer cake, the
green shale layer, the red wall, the white frosting layer. It never ceases to take my breath away and my
buddy Matt is a great guide. He loves
the Canyon more than anyone I know and has a ton of knowledge of the history
not only of the nature side of it, but also of the trails we would be on. <br />
<br />
We had gone this way last fall when we camped along the Escalante Trail, but on
this trip we had ambitions of making it to the confluence of the Colorado and
the little Colorado. It was a serious
under taking and everything had to go right for us to get there and get back to
the airport in time for me to catch my flight back. <br />
<br />
We made it through the red wall, worst part of the trail as Matt likes to say,
and then hit the long, sloping green shale section. The last part before we would hit the
river. The sun was on top of us and warm
now despite the menacing clouds to the west.
<br />
This section is just a quad crusher, it’s a constant slope forward and to the
right, with loose gravel underfoot that makes you slip and slide the whole way
down. Matt liked to recite a line from
the trail guide that described this section as ‘Piling on to an already weary
hiker…’ So we slipped and slid our way
down until finally reaching the wash that led to Tanner Rapid and the river. <br />
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<br />
From there we had to find the Beamer trail that would continue east along the
river towards the confluence, roughly another 3 miles to our campsite. After a few starts and stops (trail guide
said it was along the river but turns out it was actually above the river for
the first section following some bluffs and rock outcroppings) we found it and
followed the cairns until they dropped us into some tamarisk and from there it
was route finding all along the river. <br />
<br />
It’s amazing to be that close to the Colorado it’s such a massive river and you
think how far it travels, how Powell and his crew ran it totally blind back in
the day. Today, after the recent rains,
it was running a chocolate milk brown.
As Matt said ‘Too thin to plow but too thick to drink’ that was a great
description of it. We were right next to
it for stretches and you get to see how fast it moves, the eddies that crop up
along the shore, the power and sound of the rapids. <br />
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<br />
We talked about the river, the dams, how we can help to keep this area
wild. There was talk recently of putting
a gondola from the rim to the river and carting people that way. Both Matt and I had signed petitions against
it, he even posted comments in a public forum against it and as of now those
talks had been tabled. But the next big
issue, and one that has not been tabled, is a huge development just south of
the main entrance to the park that would put a huge stress on this
environment. Sometimes there are places
that should just be left alone. Places
that should remain difficult to get to, places that make you work to enjoy
them. This, in my opinion, was one of those
places. If you want to experience the
Grand Canyon in this way, you need to be fully committed to doing so and
putting the effort in. <br />
<br />
We eventually found a campsite, really cool little spot tucked under some
sweeping trees that we dubbed ‘The Secret Garden’ after the Boss song. Set up our tents and then set about getting
water. <br />
We gathered our bottles and went to the closest wash and attempted to use the
new UV filter I had…well bad news, the water was way too thick and cloudy for
the UV pen to work. We thought with the
pre-filter it would clear it enough to make it useable but with the recent
runoff there was no way it was cutting through there. Luckily we had iodine pills so after
filtering out as much sand and dirt as we could loaded up a few bottles for the
next day. <br />
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<br />
As we were working on the water a rafting party pulled over to the other side
of the river from our campsite a couple hundred yards away. We waved and then a few minutes later saw a
kayak leave their site and head over to our side of the shore. We didn’t think anything of it but saw a guy
get out on the shore with something in his hands and wander around. We couldn’t for the life of us figure out
what he was doing and then it struck Matt.
Rafting parties will sometimes share beers with hikers as a sign of
goodwill. Maybe this guys had some
beers! So Matt took off like he was shot
out of cannon. Bushwhacked through the tamarisk
and found the guy, returning with 4 of the muddiest, most amazing Modelo’s I’ve
ever tasted. <br />
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<br />
While he was doing that I was gathering up the water and noticed huge dark
clouds to the south seemingly headed our way.
We booked back to our site, the sky started to spit but under the cover
of our trees we barely got wet. We
cooked up dinner and then decided to boil some water too so that we could save
the Iodine for our trek to the confluence the next day. <br />
<br />
After a few games of Uno (my previous canyon dominance was nowhere to be seen
this trip, I blame it on the fact that we were not using real Uno cards but ‘Cars’
branded ones) we crashed to the most glorious sleep I have ever had. <br />
<br />
The plan was to be on the trail by 6am the next day so alarms were set for
5. We would pack everything up but just
bring day packs to the Confluence then come back grab the bigger packs and head
to Tanner to sleep before climbing out the following day at 3am to get me to
the airport. <br />
Sometime in the middle of the night the skies we had been seeing all day opened
up and we got dumped on. Thunder and
rain rolled through in two different batches, peppering our tents through the
trees. It was so nice to hear it and just
bury myself deeper into my sleeping bag, warm and dry. <br />
My alarm sounded at 5am and I popped awake, stuffing my bag and pad into their
stuff sacks and then hollered over to Matt.
He let me know it was still raining and recommended we hold off a little
bit. I had been so excited to get going
I hadn’t even noticed the rain. So I
laid back down in my tent and drifted off, around 6am Matt woke me up and we
went out to check the skies. The storms
had stopped but there was another round coming behind, you could see it descending
the south rim and heading our way. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWQ64PaGCcBu1sZEFg1_FY986sI9oGTBxpfFfMwgHsMffSBjgm1YeWDxAcW_Y1GGboK8Jk0DgiMulFSta3Qf4JdG5qwYbEePniFssHMZ7oFPCxDZRbeJ_NLyIeLzslN_7g9vniQbafV3G/s1600/IMG_5097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWQ64PaGCcBu1sZEFg1_FY986sI9oGTBxpfFfMwgHsMffSBjgm1YeWDxAcW_Y1GGboK8Jk0DgiMulFSta3Qf4JdG5qwYbEePniFssHMZ7oFPCxDZRbeJ_NLyIeLzslN_7g9vniQbafV3G/s320/IMG_5097.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
We crawled back into our tents as the rain began to spit and debated our
options. We had set a hard turnaround
time to make sure we made it back to Tanner before it got dark and this delay
was eating into it. The rain spattering
on the tent eventually caused me to drift off again and when it finally stopped
around 730 we again discussed our options.
We felt like guys on Everest who are so close to the Summit but because
of the turnaround time are unable to make it.
<br />
<br />
In addition to the timing, the next 5 miles to the confluence was on ridges
along the canyon walls and we didn’t really know what they would be like after
all this rain. So finally at 8am with
our time goal pretty much sunk we decided instead to pack up and head all the
way back out. One day after 13 miles
down, we’d jam out 13 miles back out.
Camping at Tanner and doing some day trip exploring would have been fun
too but heading out at 3am in the pouring rain was not something either of us
felt like doing. <br />
<br />
So we packed up and headed out, the path we followed the day before had become
a stream forcing us to the side for long stretches. It was disappointing not to make it all the
way there, especially for Matt who had been eyeing this hike for nearly 10 years. In the end though we knew we made the smart,
and safe decision. We used the last of the iodine at Tanner Rapid
and began the slog back up that sloping green shale layer. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4znZANKFpAm1re5qAWHoP27ZmMrF1OdfF61a-HwB-5qKNri329vU9Q0XwrVd4y2HA1e2QVe05hd4QnSUnOuhQFnDB9d7-aM0Qcr0K91ANMxpjpHhxk-yqSuFC0wG95IISC8pevS5iYLSy/s1600/IMG_5101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4znZANKFpAm1re5qAWHoP27ZmMrF1OdfF61a-HwB-5qKNri329vU9Q0XwrVd4y2HA1e2QVe05hd4QnSUnOuhQFnDB9d7-aM0Qcr0K91ANMxpjpHhxk-yqSuFC0wG95IISC8pevS5iYLSy/s320/IMG_5101.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
After that it was heads down, powering through the red wall and rewarding ourselves
with some tuna fish and an amazing view of where we had come. Then belted in for the long rolling trail on
the buttes in front of Desert View and when we hit Stegosaurus rock we looked
to the west and our jaws dropped. Black
thunderheads with sheets of rain pouring down into the canyon. Not what we had wanted to see as we had been
lucky to stay dry so far, lots of dark clouds moved in and out over us so far
this day but what we were looking at now would not be much fun. <br />
We planned on taking a break there but suddenly both felt fresh enough to
attack the final climb hoping to make it out before getting soaked. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkoCzPr7EvTTuWFqPaqqy3cnIROs4Aq4y_NLWxAMJhOisDpOeWnXfNh8If_YzlMTGhQaXMqmiMvLkAFUvpNfyYSPOzzbJzaDR80bz_27au85vGvzQHDpYSSI2fAWKJ6F_mY_GA3EHsJOQ/s1600/IMG_5153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkoCzPr7EvTTuWFqPaqqy3cnIROs4Aq4y_NLWxAMJhOisDpOeWnXfNh8If_YzlMTGhQaXMqmiMvLkAFUvpNfyYSPOzzbJzaDR80bz_27au85vGvzQHDpYSSI2fAWKJ6F_mY_GA3EHsJOQ/s320/IMG_5153.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Again we got lucky, the clouds moved straight over to the north rim and as we
climbed they gave us one of the most beautiful sunsets ever. Sometime around 6pm we climbed back out,
popping above the rim like a couple of gophers.
We were dirty, exhausted, but smiling at the effort and how much fun it
is to experience something so beautiful in this manner. We were greeted by flocks of people with
tripods and cameras peering over the rim to try and capture the sunset. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILv1-K9MqmcWNLH7aE5Ehy8RdWQnJc96592t-js69APZCEJJj27VLmrJwAyunvl0WSPs_lvAZcksbhQ8BpMTxUsH281aM589n-JCnozzaASX3URlI9xgkMQqtu1EBstFkEzw52632W4lj/s1600/IMG_5173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILv1-K9MqmcWNLH7aE5Ehy8RdWQnJc96592t-js69APZCEJJj27VLmrJwAyunvl0WSPs_lvAZcksbhQ8BpMTxUsH281aM589n-JCnozzaASX3URlI9xgkMQqtu1EBstFkEzw52632W4lj/s320/IMG_5173.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
After that we bombed back to PHX and the following day I headed back home. <br />
We joked along the way that there are many first ascents of mountains and
descents of canyons and caves but I may have posted a first too. First person to start a week partying with
Prince and end it at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Not sure if that’s a first ascent or descent or maybe both but I do know it was one wild ride. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhossvQ2IpIVxKHEq0906y_R2zQsgS0M1spQqLh2h5ymNMdIjqsOuWBfONBuxK5fU4iXP2luWgItflJe7745-GNwAmW1Z3ZVfmHKaJo9IFC2I0-UBCmixNvP8tgiuwmkPfUjD9YnQc0VQUN/s1600/IMG_5178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhossvQ2IpIVxKHEq0906y_R2zQsgS0M1spQqLh2h5ymNMdIjqsOuWBfONBuxK5fU4iXP2luWgItflJe7745-GNwAmW1Z3ZVfmHKaJo9IFC2I0-UBCmixNvP8tgiuwmkPfUjD9YnQc0VQUN/s320/IMG_5178.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-60769815036784604662015-10-28T07:13:00.000-07:002015-10-28T07:13:16.568-07:00Solo TCM<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOwlIEI0ug6HWoybDs1uh-BJqyLeBo1vXgqdT1A-CVU-tiYYYduNVRbKFGu2Ev6nQ1HIecos2V-NVV4dSRFjzTwrI5a8n9ClHF_3g8WohTXcDcYLCp4PQj1wvQIvgXVNQqYoYEELvy5tx/s1600/IMG_4899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOwlIEI0ug6HWoybDs1uh-BJqyLeBo1vXgqdT1A-CVU-tiYYYduNVRbKFGu2Ev6nQ1HIecos2V-NVV4dSRFjzTwrI5a8n9ClHF_3g8WohTXcDcYLCp4PQj1wvQIvgXVNQqYoYEELvy5tx/s320/IMG_4899.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
"It doesn't matter how slowly you go, as long as you don't stop" Confucius<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Most
of these posts start out with an early alarm and me rising in the dark of a
morning before taking on some endurance run through the woods. <br />
This one is a little different. There
was no alarm this morning, unless you count the alarm that went off for
Ali. I rose about 20 minutes after it
went off as I usually do, and began to get lunch and coffee ready for the two
of us. <br />
We were two days away from the Twin Cities Marathon, it would be my 8<sup>th</sup>
consecutive running of it and Ali’s first.
We had planned to run together, me pacing her to the finish, but as was
the case much of this summer I would have to miss it due to Game 1 of the WNBA
Finals. <br />
Instead, feeling well trained and wanting to keep my streak alive, I would be
running it on this day, self-supported. <br />
Ali left for work, I made sure I had everything, hopped on my bike and rode the
3 miles into work with my hydration pack in my backpack, shorts, running shoes,
snacks etc. <br />
The day was fairly normal but had a strange air to it, a normal morning then
after lunch I planned to run the entire Twin Cities Marathon course. I went to a morning meeting, worked on my
game prep for Sunday, covered practice and was back to the studio around noon. <br />
There I changed into my running gear, loaded up my pack and stepped out to 7<sup>th</sup>
street to begin my journey. <br />
The TCM course starts at the Vikings Stadium in downtown Mpls and I was luckily
not too far from that. Thought about
taking the light rail but figured that would just take longer so instead
started my gps watch and ran down 7<sup>th</sup> to the starting line. <br />
When I got there a lot of the barriers and stuff they would use Sunday for the
start line were there so I had an ‘officially unofficial’ start line. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHL7nFh8AFfIxKIJ1qaXId7Iu5KZfPVNFgd-lX8MIRZbBeFD_z9JdViHBNRM2P1GgosD-SdShURBnRfojO0flc96w728ZsBB2KpJwdvIdmnwsWxxrIAlK8R0eSTAOafpTvkG7IHcc-ycJ/s1600/IMG_4892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHL7nFh8AFfIxKIJ1qaXId7Iu5KZfPVNFgd-lX8MIRZbBeFD_z9JdViHBNRM2P1GgosD-SdShURBnRfojO0flc96w728ZsBB2KpJwdvIdmnwsWxxrIAlK8R0eSTAOafpTvkG7IHcc-ycJ/s320/IMG_4892.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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To zero fanfare, outside of a couple of strange looks from people driving by at
a guy in a hydration pack<br />running down the street, I started my 8<sup>th</sup>
consecutive running of TCM. <br />
The first couple of miles normally so loud with the cheering spectators and
chilly in the shadow of the buildings was almost the opposite on this day. It was a beautiful sunny fall afternoon,
quiet as I went block to block getting stopped at every red light until I got
to Hennepin and turned left, finally stringing a few lights together as I made
my way towards the sculpture garden. <br />
Turned up the hill next to the Walker and began to make my way towards the
Lakes, finding my stride and thinking of past marathons. This time there was no Alan Page standing on
Douglas St. playing his tuba as I ran past, though he would be back out there
Sunday. <br />
I thought about Ali having to run alone on Sunday, wishing there was a way I
could run and do the game but with a 2pm tip-off to accommodate a National TV
broadcast everything would have to go right in order for me to make it on time,
and with this being my first time calling the Finals it was a risk I just
couldn’t afford. <br />
Those thoughts bounced around my head as I rounded Isles and made my way
towards Calhoun. Once there the sun
bouncing off the waves of the lake transported me back to summer afternoons at the
cabin when we would swim all day and then lay on the dock to warm up and watch
the sun dance along the waves. <br />
I headed up the hill to Harriett remembering a few years ago doing TCM a week
after an Ultra Marathon in Patagonia when I got to that hill about 6 miles in
and my legs already felt gassed. I had a
goal that year of just getting in under 4 hours but on that hill the 4 hour
pace group flew past me, I felt like I got swallowed up in a wave and then they
were gone. I thought about giving chase
but decided instead to just run my own race and eventually caught and passed
them to finish under 4 hours. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKklhqltHfZX3r0JmyYCPGNNgZHgiqSDreg_jXHw664UUabsct-Lp0EfLT9_nA3a3oR819dNSkyZGLIucZ6SUJlTUyFxqAq-riaA4xXoVGJvgV3mXXrzdmXhyYFJXLIClL_Qyo-y2dG5Zk/s1600/IMG_4894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKklhqltHfZX3r0JmyYCPGNNgZHgiqSDreg_jXHw664UUabsct-Lp0EfLT9_nA3a3oR819dNSkyZGLIucZ6SUJlTUyFxqAq-riaA4xXoVGJvgV3mXXrzdmXhyYFJXLIClL_Qyo-y2dG5Zk/s320/IMG_4894.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Made my way to the south end of Harriett and headed down Minnehaha Creek,
making sure to stay on the road (or sidewalk) instead of following the
bike/running paths to make it more like the official course.<br />
The thing that always stands out about this stretch is the hills, you don’t
notice them when you’re on the path next to the creek but on the road there are
some hills. Nothing crazy just they can
take you by surprise if you’re not ready.
I made a mental note to be sure to remind Ali about them. <br />
As I got back closer to the creek I heard something to my right, looked out
towards the street and there was my brother Alex. He had taken his lunch hour and driven over
to find me, following the crumbs of a trail I left on Instagram. <br />
He had Gatorade and Cliff bars for me, a little rolling aid station. I kept running while talking to him, accepted
a Cliff bar and then he said he had to get back to work and took off. We would meet up later that night to pick up
our packets to the Marathon. <br />
After he took off I thought about his upcoming race. Alex has always been faster than me, we’ve
run a number of marathon’s together with him always finishing first, this Sunday
would be the first marathon we would not run together (well we would usually
start together then I would let him go) and I was excited for his race. <br />
Alex had committed himself in the spring to seeing what he was capable of. He changed his diet, built a training plan,
dialed in and had a really good summer of focused training. Some of the times he sent me were eye
popping. He was getting faster as he was
getting older which is not normally the case. <br />
We didn’t get to train together very much this summer due to my schedule, and I
feel I would have only slowed him down, but I was excited to see what he had on
Sunday. <br />
The journey continued over to Lake Nokomis where a group of folks in classic
cars were taking advantage of the weather slowly rolling around the lake all
waving to me as I passed. Headed up the
short hill to Melo Glaze doughnuts, the siren song during the race…smells so
good but you must resist. I wasn’t
racing today, had some cash maybe I stop?
For my sake (good or bad I guess) I hit a green light at the corner and
decided to take advantage as I had to meet up with Ali at the finish line
around 430. <br />
Rolled into Minnehaha Falls and decided to take a quick break to refill. Luckily Sea Salt the little café there was
open and allowed me to fill my bottle with cold water, I used the rest room,
took a quick look at the falls and then headed out already 16 miles in. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6sx89cPtk0oiAOJ4IywO9k4HaV-rJP9MOxOTbonPdPKf1MMEsqs7gyhuBJQnM-jOV4knQXRbgItxA8GsKwt7auIrfkBHdYLMw-bXOp9gTgr7BFYNtiENIDQK_YeFvJYagTVEEfX-6pid/s1600/IMG_4895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6sx89cPtk0oiAOJ4IywO9k4HaV-rJP9MOxOTbonPdPKf1MMEsqs7gyhuBJQnM-jOV4knQXRbgItxA8GsKwt7auIrfkBHdYLMw-bXOp9gTgr7BFYNtiENIDQK_YeFvJYagTVEEfX-6pid/s320/IMG_4895.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The next stretch is always the worst.
West river road is a long, flat stretch with very little crowd
support. Today there was none. I put my head down, focused on what was in
front of me and staying in the moment and began to tick off the miles. <br />
One thing I told Ali earlier in the week, when it gets tough to relax, don’t
push things. I told her think of Fred
Couples and how easy and relaxed his swing is just back and forth like a
metronome. So I geared down a bit during
this stretch, let my mind wander and my legs tick off the miles. Next thing I knew I was pulling up to the
Franklin Bridge and headed towards St. Paul.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA_PxGFvFQog1tn74sXoIbEs-8TYEGv3rzp51hdiBc6rGX29AYafDZQXsc8Yoa3jVnXIHCn6_FYwVtWbLUnsbKAGrEoiP_lmSF8kx6CLBASG52f2_cUMaTgNepDadyasMtw3MGiB9BkG55/s1600/IMG_4896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA_PxGFvFQog1tn74sXoIbEs-8TYEGv3rzp51hdiBc6rGX29AYafDZQXsc8Yoa3jVnXIHCn6_FYwVtWbLUnsbKAGrEoiP_lmSF8kx6CLBASG52f2_cUMaTgNepDadyasMtw3MGiB9BkG55/s320/IMG_4896.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Crossed over and thought about all the times I’d seen my Gramps and parents on
this part. Always with a sign, cowbells,
cookies whatever I needed. My Gramps at
90 now would be out there Sunday to cheer Ali and Alex on, while my parents
hopped around between there and the finish line. I thought about the great picture my mom got
of Alex last year high fiving Gramps as he ran past, big smile on his face. <br />
How every time I pass him he would say ‘Want me to run some miles with you?’
and how no matter if I felt rough at that point or not I always headed up to
Summit Ave with a smile on my face. <br />
This time as I turned on Summit I had to wait at a light and decided to give my
legs a little break from all the sidewalk pounding and instead run down the
grassy boulevard in the middle. It was a
little more challenging skipping over the roots and rocks but the dirt felt
much better than the concrete. <br />
I was gonna be pretty close to the finishing time I set with Ali that morning. Might need to pick it up a little if I had
any left. <br />
Started getting a few cramps in my legs as I neared the Governor’s residence,
slowed down to try and stretch them out.
Remember to tell Ali this stretch from Lexington to Dale is longer than
you think and slightly uphill. Man I
hope Ali has a good time on Sunday. She
is so strong and has trained so smart that I really feel she can handle it and
have a great race. But so many things
can go wrong on race day. <br />
Remembering my first marathon where things felt great for 15-18 miles before
the wheels fell off and I limped to the finish, I hoped that she would not have
to deal with something like that. <br />
My mind snapped back to the present, there was the Capitol off in the
distance. The finish line was near,
normally I hit an extra gear at this point and bomb down the hill but this time
I just stayed steady. <br />
Had to stop at stop light before finally hitting the bridge and pushing on
towards the finish. <br />
They had already dropped off some of the finishing line barriers so I had an ‘officially
unofficial’ finish line my 8<sup>th</sup> consecutive TCM was in the books. This one a little different as my gps said my
final mile total was 27.6 miles and 4:17, must have played from the
Championship Tees….</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPlfTCHy1rljIwdpqvDQdf1XxJdO48kXPkHTgHvCKMBJLptwPDHW8TARsab25o6roHoF8Dl8hUwbWzDuVelrjA3OXEPq7TwvQJzpPtEvMBi7uhhoxZEm4h15XXHImQ_tOAdjhiAC9MUac/s1600/IMG_4897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPlfTCHy1rljIwdpqvDQdf1XxJdO48kXPkHTgHvCKMBJLptwPDHW8TARsab25o6roHoF8Dl8hUwbWzDuVelrjA3OXEPq7TwvQJzpPtEvMBi7uhhoxZEm4h15XXHImQ_tOAdjhiAC9MUac/s320/IMG_4897.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
Ali was parked down the street, I changed quickly then we drove to the TCM
expo, met Alex and picked up our packets.
<br />
First time I’ve ever finished a marathon then gotten my number…Alex and Ali
both had awesome days on Sunday. I was
so proud of both of them for the dedication they showed in training and the
focus they showed on race day to go out and accomplish the task at hand. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiceb74QE03eaKbRDDDgWoIcXHzhaLFyGznOhN6LOfg_qoo3a07KwilhU8467Wk071qvPT0_zipmz5ON-ZWTyGk6c1LU4xVnyng-zCY-HpsRrL-e6jbdZ9dtXPXiHhkPeU0eXh0MmXkB6CH/s1600/IMG_4905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiceb74QE03eaKbRDDDgWoIcXHzhaLFyGznOhN6LOfg_qoo3a07KwilhU8467Wk071qvPT0_zipmz5ON-ZWTyGk6c1LU4xVnyng-zCY-HpsRrL-e6jbdZ9dtXPXiHhkPeU0eXh0MmXkB6CH/s320/IMG_4905.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-37294497062866373002015-08-15T12:25:00.001-07:002015-08-15T12:25:50.289-07:00Finding The Focus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscubgQLO-tGgQ55jy0hmIj8R3yKhijp1BGBtWlm99LUiy4mm1Zq5UfICNrWn55KP9QOyR5CwND-UtxSRPyFmbbforIjVChk5xFhU057-Bt7JHQ3kBrjhzCo1-sMh1ue5fBNPEGt8udSdy/s1600/Foke.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscubgQLO-tGgQ55jy0hmIj8R3yKhijp1BGBtWlm99LUiy4mm1Zq5UfICNrWn55KP9QOyR5CwND-UtxSRPyFmbbforIjVChk5xFhU057-Bt7JHQ3kBrjhzCo1-sMh1ue5fBNPEGt8udSdy/s320/Foke.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
'All we have is this journey we are making and the attitude with which we make it'- Lizzie Hawker.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For
the past few years my training hasn’t always been focused in terms of the day
to day plan. Run 5 miles this day, do
speed work or hills that day. Saturdays
are for long runs and Sundays are for recovery. <br />
Instead much of it has been centered around feel and fitting in workouts when I
could between road trips and games when I was back home. <br />
The one thing that kept training focused during that stretch was a number of
races scattered through the year that not only kept me honest but also gave me
chances to get in long runs and plenty of time on my feet as well as keep the
mind/body engaged & sharp. <br />
This summer due to a scheduling quirk things have changed, I was able to ramp
up early in the season for a couple 50k’s and kept training solid during that
time, but then there was a huge gap.
Nothing was planned from late May until Twin Cities Marathon in October.
<br />
At first blush this seemed like a great opportunity to really get back into
focused training without having to take time to recover from some of the longer
races I normally do during the summer time.
A chance to try some new training methods (HR training, hills,
speed-work etc.) and at the same time allow my body some much needed time off
after years of building a base. <br />
But soon after the Superior 50K I already missed having a race on the horizon
and haphazardly threw Afton 50K on there.
I wanted a challenge and little did I know it would be more than I bargained
for. My body was exhausted from moving
apartments, travel and a summer cold and I was forced to drop after 24 miles,
more so due to malaise than any real injury.
I was just plain tired, worn out and wanted to relax. <br />
But that bothered me and I wanted to get back to where I was before, build back
my ability to push through those mental barriers and finish no matter what. <br />
Despite a ton of travel I tried to ramp things up, looking at my calendar and
seeing where I could put in some serious time on my feet. <br />
We had a noon game right before the All-Star Break, I hatched a plan to cover a
chunk of the Border Route trail at my cabin in a self-supported run with my
brother and my cousin. But like Afton it
was a bit of a half-baked idea. I went
into it tired, having just finished 17 straight days of working or traveling,
dehydrated, and without the proper nutrition I needed. The first 13 miles were great, bushwhacking
through the woods with great conversation and incredible views when we got up
above the Border Lakes. <br />
As we neared the Rose Lake waterfall I was hit with a cramp in my leg that
forced me into an incredibly painful march over the final four (probably the toughest miles of the whole thing) as cramps attacked my legs up and down.<br />
My brother & cousin were bothered by cramping due to the heat & lack of
sodium/electrolytes but not to the extent that I was. It was frustrating, the two times when I had
time to actually get out there I was not prepared and both ended with me
searching for answers. <br />
Was it the new HR training that was messing me up, not going fast enough, not
pushing hard enough, not enough hills?
Was I not eating enough, I’d dropped some weight but thought that would
help not hurt but was I not fueling properly and if not why? I had been doing these types of runs for
years why now am I suddenly acting like a rookie who has no idea what
he’s doing? <br />
After some serious soul searching, and discussing with Ali, going over every
detail of what went wrong, what was different, what went right, and why the
change, we still didn’t have too concrete of an answer except this. <br />
Much like when I was a rookie in these events, the excitement to get out
trumped all. I would drop everything to
hit the trails, in my haste forget water, electrolytes, food, wouldn’t care the
time of day or temp just get out there.
I was pushing everything, pushing the pace even though I might not have
the fitness for that speed at the moment.<br />
I needed to slow down, to really pay attention to what my body was telling me,
what it needed to go on and be mindful of the pace so that I didn’t go out too
fast on a hot day & blow up. Maybe
lay off the coffee on a humid day so you don’t go into it already at a deficit.
<br />
All of those things and other factors, namely needing sleep and proper rest,
played into my early season mistakes. I
would love to say that since that recognition all is right in the world and I
am bounding over trails like a deer again but that’s still not the case. <br />
Little by little I am making the adjustments, it’s not easy when you only have
a small window to commit and you want to do everything in that window. Need to really focus on the most important
parts of the training. For me right now
that’s not speed, but instead regaining the endurance. The ability to move for long stretches
without stopping, to put in the time on my feet. <br />
To drill down on the nutrition, sodium, hydration needed to keep me
moving. Every run is a step in that
direction but also the recognition it doesn’t end when the run does. The recovery & pre run planning is just
as important. Rather than think I can
just toss in a 50K the morning after a game & a week of moving/travel
realize that doesn’t set you up to be successful. And if I am going to do that then the time
when not traveling/working needs to be spent wisely to prepare for that rather
than trying to jam in more meaningless junk miles. <br />
Less than 2 months away from a big October I am glad I was able to spot these
things and start to figure them out, with Twin Cities followed by the Zion
Traverse, followed by a Grand Canyon excursion, I need to be able to move slow
and steady for many hours straight but also recover quickly in between and fuel
right so I can wake up the next morning and do it again. <br />
So while my time earlier in the summer was without purpose, that purpose or
goal now looms large. The rest of my
training may be haphazard in terms of when it happens and where, the focus
before during and after each effort must be there. </span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-15302080256839043752015-07-06T07:18:00.000-07:002015-07-06T07:18:02.396-07:00DNF<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKkxVQII6Er1xpeLOmO7Gk9ujSXTfnYeyv_rTf8EPJB6KrIXeWwXZ5McotnbBvf7liYUFZg4_s937dd8EjTTBZ2-GPFop_Ub2qV6c0DZZsHeVZWgauRuBhOlfs9zVjEF3pWzFC1ldBVq8T/s1600/Afton.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKkxVQII6Er1xpeLOmO7Gk9ujSXTfnYeyv_rTf8EPJB6KrIXeWwXZ5McotnbBvf7liYUFZg4_s937dd8EjTTBZ2-GPFop_Ub2qV6c0DZZsHeVZWgauRuBhOlfs9zVjEF3pWzFC1ldBVq8T/s320/Afton.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Kelly Doyle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
‘Runs like a junkyard dog with a brain of brass’-Phish<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a first time for everything and Saturday in the
Afton Trail 50K race provided another first for me. Back in 2010 it was my first ultra-distance
race, the first time I ran beyond the 26.2 mile marathon distance. There were many little trials in that race,
dealing with heat, forcing my way through some tough times fighting dehydration
and fatigue but in the end, thanks to some great folks who helped me along the
way I made it to the end. My first
Ultra. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Fast forward to this past Saturday and again battling the heat, the hills and
everything else that course throws at you, I didn’t make it to the end. 24 miles in I decided enough was enough and
walked off the course for my first ever DNF. <br />
(Now I do have 2 DNS’s-did not start- to my credit…one Twin Cities Marathon in
2006 when I was training but moved to Michigan and couldn’t do it and the
Square Lake ½ Ironman when my body was totally trashed from my first Mt Hood
50miler and other tri’s that summer & I bailed) <br />
I read an article recently about learning how to differentiate a DNS and a DNF. Basically it came down to knowing, and
listening to your body and deciding whether or not you were ready for the
race. How not starting is sometimes
better than starting and not finishing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
In the month or so since running very well at the Superior 50K, I had started a
new training plan which was based off heart rate readings. Trying to go slow to keep the HR under a
certain number while training your body to become more efficient so that you
can work harder without raising your effort level. <br />
The training was going well, I was seeing progress, but in order to keep my HR
around that number I didn’t do many hills as your heart rate soars when you hit
the hills. Also due to work obligations
and travel I hadn’t been out on many trails and a lot of my running was either
on treadmills in hotels or around the city street where we were. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
But still in the weeks leading up to Afton I felt like I could get through it
and it might be one of those races where you have no idea what to expect &
have a great day. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well Sunday of race week I got up ran 6 miles then spent the rest of the day
moving from our old apt to the new, and Monday was the same thing, from 8am
till around 4 I hauled stuff down the stairs, cleaned and organized and by
Monday night was totally spent. <br />
Got in a little run Tuesday but my legs felt like sacks of wet sand during our three
mile run around the lake. Figured if I
took it easy, and didn’t bike the long way to work I would recover in time for
Afton. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But by Thursday of that week I woke up and thought I had a cold. My nose was all stuffed up, eyes were burning
trying to keep them open and all I wanted to do was sleep. Looking back I should have really listened to
my body at that point but figured I was just tired & it would pass. Get one good night’s sleep I kept telling Ali
& I’ll be fine. <br />
Turns out I was sort of right…got a great sleep Thursday and woke up Friday
feeling much better. Legs were still
heavy but again figured I’d done this distance enough I’d be fine. <br />
Worked late Friday and by the time I got to bed it was around 11 with a 430am
alarm set. Just one more solid night’s
sleep I bargained with myself & you’ll be right as rain. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Except I couldn’t sleep. I tossed,
turned, got up and had some water, laid down & had to pee, I stared at the
clock, I tried to envision a good race but couldn’t focus on it, finally
drifting off sometime after 1, only to wake up at 230, drift again then BAM
alarm hits & it’s time to go. <br />
We made it there on time, watched a beautiful, Canadian Wildfire colored
sunrise and then we were off. <br />
I’ve run these trails so many times I could tell you every inch of the course
but for some reason that day everything seemed to take longer. <br />
It was longer through the prairie to get to the downhill, the stairs seemed
longer, the trail back to the prairie longer, and by the time I made the climb
to the campgrounds nearly 10 miles in I was shocked only to be there. <br />
It wasn’t that I was running slowly, it was just one of those days where I was
not dialed in and everything seemed to be a big effort. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
As I climbed to the campground I asked myself ‘Are you having a good race, or a
bad one?’ Honestly I couldn’t tell,
everything just felt blah. I decided
there to have a good race, I picked up the pace, tried to talk to some folks
and get some energy going but just never found a rhythm. <br />
I made the first loop in 235, happy with the time and thought okay just one
more. But I wasn’t that into it and my
legs were getting heavier with every step. <br />
The flat stuff was fine, I was dealing with the heat well, my nutrition and
hydration were in order but I just had no strength on up or down hills. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Made the 2<sup>nd</sup> loop through the
prairie, up the stairs, through the aid station, back to the prairie, sun high,
heat really smacking me on this second loop.
Okay I thought this is it, I promised Ali no blowups and I feel on the
verge of one, I’ll stop at the next aid station & call it. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. <br />
Hit the aid station & began the long slow climb up the road away from the
river. Feeling my pace slow with every
step. <br />
Why is it so hard to stop? What was
keeping me going and why? I didn’t have
an answer except that this was what I did.
I push through things like this, I got into these distances because I
like to test myself and see just what I’m capable of. <br />
But what happens when physically your body is slowing down & your mind
begins to match it. What happens when you
are just plain tired & don’t feel like pushing anymore? <br />
I lugged myself up that hill, then started to run again, hit the downhill on
the other side & realized that was it.
I was done. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
In my mind I knew I could keep going, it wouldn’t be pretty and it would take a
long time, but I’d done it before in much worse physical states & made it
to the end but today that wasn’t in the cards.
I just didn’t have it. <br />
Running the flat along the river I knew I could turn up the hill to the
campground & keep going or cut straight through & call it a day. If I went up the hill then I was finishing
this thing, risking a blowup and being a pile for the next few days or cut straight
& pull out. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I went straight, ran into the aid station & found the ham radio operator
and told him I was done. The volunteers
were great asking what I needed if I wanted to just wait a few minutes &
continue but I didn’t. I knew if I gave
myself that time I would talk myself into going and then what….<br />
I was lucid, nothing was wrong I just had zero strength or energy on the hills
and frankly just wanted to sit and relax and recharge my body after a long
couple of weeks. <br />
They took my bib, I began my nearly mile walk out and back to the car. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
As I approached the finish line I saw Ali on a picnic bench having finished the
25k. She looked over & saw me
walking through the parking lot & thought she missed me finishing. But nope I dropped at mile 24. She had a great day & I was so proud of
her for how hard she ran and the PR she posted. <br />
We talked and she said I made the right decision and we chatted with some other
runners for a bit then headed out. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Dropping was hard, very hard but at the same time it was easy too. Stopping running was easy, dealing with the
second guessing since is the hardest part. <br />
Could I have finished? Probably, but for
some reason I just didn’t want to that day.
It didn’t matter to me that much.
What mattered more on that day was stopping while I was ahead &
making sure I didn’t blow-up and put myself at even more of a deficit than the
one I was at going into the race. <br />
In the end it was a great learning experience, a great training run, and for
once I listened to my body and feel that I made the right decision. Get back to training the right way, making
sure I get proper rest and reset my mindset as it pertains to these events. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
When I told my Gramps the next day that I dropped his response was ‘Good, I
wish I was there to see it’ he is a big proponent of understanding your limits
on any given day, and he’s right that day I reached my limit and had to
pull. <br />
Hope it doesn’t happen again but if it does I hope that I have the ability to
make the right decision. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-76717474200758438392015-05-29T05:48:00.004-07:002015-05-29T05:48:56.214-07:00The Original Tough Mudder...Superior Spring Races<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaHnhi2z69dESqzv1ilkQz2q1bMb_jk2-SeXj5ndOwezSVCIf_IXDJpCJhuHY66GJCk8y95gzYrDt4pGrWHAKMrcrBwuYWKeZcQhKIIGD_c6Q-ZAhRXJQC7O_BmuQQcDmFas4s8GpC8Dk/s1600/Spring+15+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaHnhi2z69dESqzv1ilkQz2q1bMb_jk2-SeXj5ndOwezSVCIf_IXDJpCJhuHY66GJCk8y95gzYrDt4pGrWHAKMrcrBwuYWKeZcQhKIIGD_c6Q-ZAhRXJQC7O_BmuQQcDmFas4s8GpC8Dk/s320/Spring+15+003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
"If you want to have the time of your life....change how you use the time in your life." Tim Fargo<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Running
and racing on the Superior Hiking Trail is something that is very special to
me. For every summer of my life, except
one, I have ridden or driven along highway 61 North to our cabin. Highway 61 follows the curve of Lake Superior
to Grand Marais and beyond. But it's
that stretch from Duluth to Grand Marais that is so special. <br />
In those car rides I would stare out the window, either into the woods or at
the lake, music pumping through my headphones imagining running, jumping over
the rocks up and down the hills.
Sometimes running, sometimes riding a horse (always wanted to be a
cowboy) and imagining what I would find in the woods. <br />
As I've gotten older I have had the chance to explore those trails via running
and hiking and they have lived up to and exceeded my childhood imagination. <br />
Running the Superior 100 last fall was amazing, to be able to experience that
with my family and friends was really special, but this would be
different. This time instead of trying
to survive I wanted to race...it helped that it was a much shorter race and I
felt in pretty good shape in the week leading up to it. <br />
Ali and I were fresh off 7 days in Zion spent hiking up and down the Canyon plus
I had an early season 50K under my belt on a much easier and less technical
course where I cracked the 5 hour mark. <br />
But a few days out from Superior I felt a twinge in my hamstring and wasn't
sure how it would hold up, add to that 4 days of pouring rain had turned the course
into a mud pit and I was worried how my hamstring would respond. <br />
I treated it as best I could and on that
Friday we headed North & wished for the best. <br />
This race would be different from others in that Ali was going to run the 25K, her
longest race to date. Last fall she ran
the Surly Trail Half-Marathon and like me, fell in love with trail running, and
after hiking the SHT and pacing me last fall she wanted to take on this
challenge. </span><br />
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We made it to the Cliff Dweller around 11pm Friday, set our alarms for 5am and
crashed to the sound of Lake Superior blasting the shore below our window. <br />
I woke up juiced the next morning, sun was shining and while it was a chilly 40
degrees and there was fog over the lake it was shaping up to be a good one. <br />
My race started at 7am so Ali dropped me off then went back to pack up her
stuff & get ready for the 9am 25K start. <br />
I took off feeling good, it was chilly, and I decided to bring just a handheld
bottle despite aid stations being as far apart as 7.5 miles. John Storkamp, the race director, told us
that when we encountered mud to plow right through the middle, don't try to
widen the path. Well shortly after
leaving the pavement we hit mud, and jumped right in. <br />
The start was slow, a long train of people making their way up hill through the
mud. I got a little frustrated, wanting
to push it but kept telling myself to be patient. I fell into a group of people and we started
chatting about different races we'd run, running documentaries we'd seen and books
we'd read. It made the miles fly by and
suddenly we were at the first aid station.
I turned to a woman in the group and said 'Where was that massive hill I
remember from the 100?' she said I think you just went down it...seemed so much
bigger going the other way (and it was as I'd find out later) <br />
In the 25K this is the aid station where you turn around and head back so I was
thinking about everything Ali would have to deal with in her race and hoping
she would find people to run with to make it fly by like I did. <br />
I left the aid station with Nicole, we carried on chatting for a while before I
decided I felt pretty good and my hammy was holding up. I pushed on ahead and with the sun now warm
on my back wondered if I could get after it the rest of the way. <br />
I was 10 miles in when I pushed ahead, slopped through the mud pushing all the
time leading into the next aid station.
I grabbed a few fig newtons, filled my bottle and took off up Carlton
peak. <br />
During the 100, we came down Carlton this way right after my blisters
blew. I don't remember much of it as I
was in a ton of pain. I had flashbacks
at the aid station of taking off my shoes and the medical woman recoiling at the
sight of them covered in blood, and saying 'Nothing we can do for them...'<br />
This time around I was pushing up the hill, and I wanted to redefine my idea of
what was runnable and what wasn't. <br />
If I could see the top of the hill it was runnable, if it wasn't switchbacks,
it was runnable. This stretch was a
long, gradual uphill so I kept pushing finally scrambling to the top where a
guy dressed like Daniel Boone was standing.
He was the turnaround point for the 50K. <br />
As I made my way up to the top he said 'John I just opened this for you' (my
name was on my race bib) it was ice cold New Castle beer. I took a swing, ran around him and looked at
my watch 308...<br />
On our way up North we stopped and had dinner with my buddy Mitch who ran the
50K a few years back & was doing the 25K this year. He ran the 50K in 630 while battling a knee
issue. He said I could probably get it
done in 6 hours. So with 308 out I
wondered...could I get back in 6 hours? <br />
I pounded down Carlton peak, leaping over rocks, sliding through the mud in my
mind saying 'let your body flow over the trail' I hit the wooden bridges
slowing down so as not to slip on their wet surfaces, looking to make up as
much time on this downhill as I could. </span><br />
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Hitting the aid station I realized I was out of Nunn and would be drinking just
water the rest of the way. It was warm
now so I took a salt tab too and put down a few more fig newtons and took off. <br />
The thing that frustrated me so much during this stretch of the 100 was how
runnable it was but at the time my feet were ground beef and I just couldn't
run it, not even really a shuffle. <br />
This time around though I could run and pushed myself through. I literally threw myself at the huge swathes
of mud skating to the other side, sometimes stepping down in spots where the
mud came up to my knees. <br />
I knew there was one solid uphill in this stretch that I would need to walk so
I vowed to run until I got to it, passing a number of people along the
way. Finally I came to it and used it as
recovery before pushing once again when I reached the top. <br />
During this stretch my mind was blank just repeating my flow over the trails
phrase, my eyes so dialed in on the trail a few steps ahead to keep myself
upright. <br />
I hit the last aid station and looked at my watch, there might be a chance I
could catch Ali who started 2 hours behind me.
We originally pegged her finishing around 4 hours so I grabbed a
sandwich and headed out. <br />
As I walked towards the trail letting my food digest an aid worker said 'You
can make up a lot of time over the first few miles' so I took off wanting to
catch Ali and maybe finish together. <br />
During the 100 this stretch was with Paul and Alex, and it was hard...really
hard. This time though I ran up the
gradual climb again redefining what was runnable, pushing to make up that time
until I hit the mountain... </span><br />
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The giant hill I didn't notice on the way out was there on the way back...I
pushed my knees down with my hands, huffed and puffed power hiking to the top
(Great quote from the 100 on this hill.
Alex said 'You're almost there' to which I replied 'Except that I'm NOT!')
<br />
I knew at the top there would be some flat ridge running before dropping down
and going back up a long set of switchbacks.
<br />
I pushed on the top until I felt a cramp coming on. Being out of Nunn and low on water I went to
grab a salt pill when I suddenly found myself on the ground. Took my eyes off the trail for one second and
BAM down I went. I was fine, a little
sore, but mostly bummed that I had lost all but two of my remaining salt
pills. I got up, brushed off, took one
and took off. <br />
In the distance I kept seeing women in shirts similar to the color that Ali was
wearing so I'd take off, pushing to try and catch her only to find out it
wasn't her. <br />
If she was going to finish in the 4 hour range I was close. So I kept pushing, floating down hills, feet
skipping just over the rocks and roots, mind blank with my goal of catching
Ali. <br />
More mud, sloppy after 50K and 25K runners had gone through it. I laughed watching people trying to go around
and sneak past while I just jumped right in and plowed through getting mud on
my face and all over my clothes. <br />
I put my head down to power hike the switchbacks where during the 100 I had
seen bags of flour littering the trail as my mind began to desert me. I huffed and puffed and started wondering if
I was part canine cooling myself through panting. <br />
Hitting the top I could hear the finish line but knew there was a long way to
go. Again I pushed, passing more people,
totally surrendering to the trail and letting it carry me down. <br />
Finally I could hear the rushing of the river and knew I was getting
close. I hadn't caught Ali, I hoped she
had a great day, and in the back of my mind feared something happened & she
had to pull out. </span><br />
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Over the bridge and back on pavement, during the 100 Paul, Alex & I
strolled thinking we were pretty much done but it's still a ways away. <br />
Cramps started to hit me, I slowed a bit, they left I pushed again, had a shot
to get under 6 hours. Saw the final
stretch, pushed down the hill, tight turn around the pool and right through the
finish line, hearing them mispronounce my name above the din.</span><br />
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There was Ali, she'd had a good day & just like at the 100 we shared
another finish line kiss here. The smile
on her face lit up the whole place. She
was so excited, I felt bad I hadn't been there at the finish but was so glad
she had as much fun as I did. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNs6COrh99m8tBJ5fepVwkeIBEeaXjY7Hmz_nWef7NelTeGI-g1SAwE-6ruB8-xBl753alqzhbbJUGwPK_GPMaPfz0P69zABwCZn4H8Tm7JKf24QRxdN3gNsYHcx_MHMa-oNVpvBHTEiwX/s1600/Spring+15+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNs6COrh99m8tBJ5fepVwkeIBEeaXjY7Hmz_nWef7NelTeGI-g1SAwE-6ruB8-xBl753alqzhbbJUGwPK_GPMaPfz0P69zABwCZn4H8Tm7JKf24QRxdN3gNsYHcx_MHMa-oNVpvBHTEiwX/s320/Spring+15+005.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Ali had a great day finishing in 3:30 while I was able to crack 6 hours...by a few seconds finishing in 5:59, and if we get some lottery luck we'll be back next year.</div>
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*Many photos courtesy of Mike Wheeler & Rock Steady Running*</div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-85715886377352317292015-05-12T08:51:00.000-07:002015-05-12T08:51:46.587-07:00Mukuntuweap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started & know the place for the first time." TS Elliot<br />
<br />
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After missing the airport shuttle, dealing with a surly cab
driver, fighting the rental car company (and ending up in a 'Mid-Size Nissan
Versa' with no power windows or locks) driving hours through the rain, and a
soggy sleep at the bottom of Zion Canyon we loaded our packs for a night in the
backcountry as the gray clouds gave way to the blue skies of Southern Utah. </div>
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<br />
Last year Ali & had spent about 36 hours in Zion Canyon and were
hooked. Driving through the mile long
tunnel from the East end into the canyon on Mt Carmel Highway, hiking to the
top of Angels Landing, sleeping under the eyes of the Watchman we knew we'd be
back there was so much left to explore. <br />
This year we had plans to spend 3 days in the Canyon. One night in the
backcountry of Potato Hollow, and a long day hike on the East Rim. Those were the plans, but as this trip
unfolded we realized that plans were meant to change. <br />
Our packs were heavy as we parked the Versa at the visitor's center &
hopped on the shuttle to the Grotto. We
had to carry water not only for that day's 9 mile hike to the camp, but also
for dinner, coffee and breakfast & the hike back the following day. There were two springs located along the
route but only one had water in it according to the Ranger so we didn't want to
take any chances. <br />
We shouldered our loads, leaned into our trekking poles and began the two and a
half mile climb up Angels Landing to Scouts Lookout, the first section of our
journey. </div>
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<br />
Angels Landing is a very popular day hike, last year we took the trail up,
through the 20+ switchbacks of the aptly named 'Walters Wiggles' and followed
the chains all the way out to the top.
This time we would head back out of the canyon once we finished the
Wiggles. <br />
There were a ton of people on the trail as we expected, many commenting on our
huge packs (Ali's was nearly as big as she was) and wondering where we were
headed. <br />
We got to the top, drank in the view, shed a layer as the sun and packs had
heated us up. We kept climbing, this
time back and away from Angels Landing following cairns over the white rock
which marked the path. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
We topped out and began to head down the back side into an area that made us
feel as though we were on the moon.
Nothing but white rock rising to the blue sky, we were down in a little
rock valley, steep walls rose on three sides and big buttes dominated the
fourth. We followed the trail through
the valley back into what felt like a slot canyon, not sure where it would take
us. Then the trail turned and we leaned
into a set of long, steep switchbacks. <br />
I had noticed on the map we would climb about 1,000 feet in this section but I
didn't expect it to come like this. On
the side of the canyon wall these switchbacks seemed to never end. They would go on for so long you thought you
were nearing the top only to turn and do it all over again before we finally
topped out on the West Rim. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtWc-kyNLIDz4H5fm5WEuCqWCjeS9ESOmm54eb0Y90A9svderDhg_v9eY3y7zNOYw3HbEcKhyphenhyphen3ITOs5Z-Wd1HQnW7RGillBKZseJ-4jkZ9nrKpgRfs_jbjNVRKZrpGTSXAr5TuTPIofzv/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtWc-kyNLIDz4H5fm5WEuCqWCjeS9ESOmm54eb0Y90A9svderDhg_v9eY3y7zNOYw3HbEcKhyphenhyphen3ITOs5Z-Wd1HQnW7RGillBKZseJ-4jkZ9nrKpgRfs_jbjNVRKZrpGTSXAr5TuTPIofzv/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+082.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
At the top we could see far to the north where there were huge red rock walls
covered in snow. Apparently the rain we
dealt with in the canyon the day/night before was snow up on the rim around
7,000 feet. We followed the Telephone
Canyon Trail as it was a shorter route to our campsite and with a big bank of
rain clouds behind us time was of the essence. <br />
The Telephone Canyon trail was rolling hills, slightly muddy and not very
scenic. The sun was warm but this high
up the wind whipped and chilled us as we put that original layer back on. Finally after what felt (and turned out to
be) much longer than the 1.8 miles we reached the Potato Hollow trail. <br />
This dropped down along a ridge with a huge canyon to the left, buttes and
plateau's that looked like they could be greens on a crazy golf course. We were wowed by the sights but with the
clouds nipping at our heels getting antsy about finding our camp. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTsf7VnXD5zL4IG5_MDLVpDmMFMMUJyQAXmQeEPix6ykKKcCv6eprtyY_BiS0fEFc-8b3FV-ixGF0IkxPQqb08iNN5dvOym37l7rV_tMZVeS16HOnPTkV3Ryq8k2fZxIN5W5Do6oaOSA3/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTsf7VnXD5zL4IG5_MDLVpDmMFMMUJyQAXmQeEPix6ykKKcCv6eprtyY_BiS0fEFc-8b3FV-ixGF0IkxPQqb08iNN5dvOym37l7rV_tMZVeS16HOnPTkV3Ryq8k2fZxIN5W5Do6oaOSA3/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+058.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
We finally got on top of the next mesa, ran into some guys who said we weren't
far from camp, and after a long downhill ended up in this big meadow and found
our campsite. <br />
The wind was insane, never gave us a break and made setting up our tent a
challenge. Not only was it a fierce wind
but it was cold too. We pulled on
hoodies, got our camp set up and went to explore the area.<br />
Ali found a path that ended away from our campsite heading north through some
small bushes, we followed it and all of the sudden it gave way to a huge canyon
dropping some 2,000 feet and nothing but canyons and mountains literally as far
as the eye could see. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvrDyQYx6l5PYe1lSJrFYgs8eF2C5ai0Ki6A-YjgNqcZmWUECDIg-GJrv9tXVbEkOm7oKHeyvIfz_VPQe2Ux9SVVrPkJym5dpAOzHt7jP9RKa-WfaquJktIns8ypIUeq8riJKINlGfVKg/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvrDyQYx6l5PYe1lSJrFYgs8eF2C5ai0Ki6A-YjgNqcZmWUECDIg-GJrv9tXVbEkOm7oKHeyvIfz_VPQe2Ux9SVVrPkJym5dpAOzHt7jP9RKa-WfaquJktIns8ypIUeq8riJKINlGfVKg/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+061.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
We drank in the view for a while before the rumbling of our stomachs forced us
back to camp & dinner. We ate
sitting on downed logs, drowning our freeze dried food in Tapatio hot sauce and
around 7pm with the wind too fierce and cold to play cards outside retreated to
the tent and the warmth of our sleeping bags. <br />
Darkness fell and we drifted off to sleep waking from time to time as the wind
roared out the canyon, attacking our tent in bursts and vanishing. At one point before drifting off we heard a
noise outside the tent, our packs were out there and our food, Ali popped up
'Did you hear that?' Yup I did...'Are you concerned?' she asked earnestly. Hmmm I thought, whatever is out there I hope
it stays and I don't want to deal with it...she unzipped the tent flap and just
a few feet from us were a pair of mule deer sniffing around not concerned with
us at all. <br />
The next morning dawned to sunny skies and temps much warmer than the day
before, so warm in fact we went with shorts for the hike back. Coffee by our canyon and a quick breakfast
then we re-shouldered our loads and began the trek back to Zion. <br />
On the way back we took the West Rim trail, adding miles but making up for it
with incredible views of the back side of Zion and rewarded ourselves with a
dip in the cool waters of the Virgin River when we finally made it all the way
back to the Grotto at the foot of Angels Landing. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLKpyf4aVOpL2C7BaaJ5IyJ_OcwUf7zntwtZWrDg4jOKARIUkW1PtNGQe0jKzlNV40Qxoc-FRxe80dGsT7JjcEGIQ0AYVuwhS8-4-WxXKlROqmcePGY0QFmo2GTNzDsau63dDRdGBWdqD/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLKpyf4aVOpL2C7BaaJ5IyJ_OcwUf7zntwtZWrDg4jOKARIUkW1PtNGQe0jKzlNV40Qxoc-FRxe80dGsT7JjcEGIQ0AYVuwhS8-4-WxXKlROqmcePGY0QFmo2GTNzDsau63dDRdGBWdqD/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+089.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br />
<b>Weeping Rock/Hidden Canyon/Observation
Point<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a great meal at the Whiptail Grill in Springdale (a
must stop) we crashed at our new campsite and made plans for the following
day. We originally had planned to hike
Cable Mountain but that was a 16 mile round trip day and we weren't sure we
wanted to commit our final day to just one hike. Instead the following morning we loaded day
packs with water & lunch and took the shuttle to Weeping Rock. <br />
Weeping Rock is a short, steep hike to a small cave-like area where the water
is forced out of the rocks and drips down the canyon walls like a shower and
results in cool hanging plants in this little cave. We then headed up the East Rim trail and
branched off to Hidden Canyon. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8LalPVwMuQhHg4PLvCQiTJ8ypc2R5LHIFBuYrRZ3kjHTYfuN04MQD4uwWNuNgpvBKKWBQKm9WQdkEe6Asoxl8P9hvE7oLiqFV7PUITKnpx5qED1fgsb5vvlN0QLDTZz6HX-7WLX74xOw/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8LalPVwMuQhHg4PLvCQiTJ8ypc2R5LHIFBuYrRZ3kjHTYfuN04MQD4uwWNuNgpvBKKWBQKm9WQdkEe6Asoxl8P9hvE7oLiqFV7PUITKnpx5qED1fgsb5vvlN0QLDTZz6HX-7WLX74xOw/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+103.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The trail wraps around the face of the canyon as you hold on to chains bolted
into the wall, and back into a sandy slot canyon. We had to scramble our way over bounders and
downed trees, finding a small, free standing arch and some really cool
formations in the sandstone walls. <br />
Eventually the canyon was too clogged with boulders and downed trees to
continue on so we turned back and reaching the main wall again decided to head
up towards Observation Point on these switchbacks Ali had noticed the day
before when were back at Scouts Lookout.
This trail was steep, and started out with a series of switchbacks
before following slot canyons back towards the East Rim, then wrapping around
the canyon walls and going up and up and up. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-i5MWfEYldHuSlG5VkDSju17KxBxbfcY-7gJIu6r7ZNnAwb85yjfd-W6SCvW18-haGFuqC-3_jhJIDtz2OCEtlGyQUMLPvu0iuaCyuFi56bTsCNvQzfEIfUrhuBH6UjFGkQvNxk9VgM0S/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-i5MWfEYldHuSlG5VkDSju17KxBxbfcY-7gJIu6r7ZNnAwb85yjfd-W6SCvW18-haGFuqC-3_jhJIDtz2OCEtlGyQUMLPvu0iuaCyuFi56bTsCNvQzfEIfUrhuBH6UjFGkQvNxk9VgM0S/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+109.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Never before have I been so grateful for my trekking poles. Originally I was down on them, thought they
were a waste of money but after my trip to the Grand Canyon last fall on a
primitive trail on the east end I knew I was wrong and on this trip they were
invaluable. Both Ali & I had them
and they made a huge difference in getting us up and down the canyons. <br />
As the path wrapped back around to the front of the canyon it was like the
world opened up and all of Zion Canyon was right there in front of us. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pj4LCIo4a6HQwGzD4102cHN9E69HiWz2YmZ7MPsdqy_jXeRz2bfJZNKDAjhSFmsJ8rRJBI9kjFqj6_tvDvnOvX_WWxafw3kzqFIdpJiVlFQfa_Uz-PMbbpl78pShw8caKVhikpPmB4Qt/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pj4LCIo4a6HQwGzD4102cHN9E69HiWz2YmZ7MPsdqy_jXeRz2bfJZNKDAjhSFmsJ8rRJBI9kjFqj6_tvDvnOvX_WWxafw3kzqFIdpJiVlFQfa_Uz-PMbbpl78pShw8caKVhikpPmB4Qt/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+135.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It's a view that takes your breath away, we were looking down on Angels
Landing, and it looked tiny from where we were.
You could see the Virgin River winding to the west, all the familiar
landmarks that make up the canyon but they were all so small from up here. It was amazing; the sky was a bright desert
blue, we had red rock at our feet and walls of red, black, and white rock
forming a corridor in front of us, the blue of the river, the green of the
plants that grow alongside it. So many
colors, all so vibrant and beautiful from our vantage point, it felt like we
couldn't take enough pictures even though we knew none would do this justice. <br />
If this was going to be our final day in Zion we did it right I thought while
at Observation Point, we were set to leave for Bryce the following morning even
though we didn't have any concrete plans there yet. <br />
Winding back down the trail we took the shuttle halfway back to our campsite,
getting off to cool down in the river and follow that trail back to the
Watchman. Both of us talking about how
much we loved this place & didn't want to leave...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigK1RoCTY_z7ZteN19jYuNlwSN_jyCTAtnr5XQHbMnPXVWz8NUIdRuSb5aVPhFrkJYiKRydGXHSMJ_waiYpquio2ikY8QgscNFZ9xEb5Q4McZNIR2MEq8rVSJt87ODZaXvZkpQ-mXfoHdb/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigK1RoCTY_z7ZteN19jYuNlwSN_jyCTAtnr5XQHbMnPXVWz8NUIdRuSb5aVPhFrkJYiKRydGXHSMJ_waiYpquio2ikY8QgscNFZ9xEb5Q4McZNIR2MEq8rVSJt87ODZaXvZkpQ-mXfoHdb/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+140.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The Narrows<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b> </b>Wednesday was moving day, we packed up
with a plan to drive to Bryce but we had the feeling we were leaving trails un-hiked. One of those being The Narrows, a trail that
Ali had been really excited about since our first trip to Zion. <br />
The Narrows trail was basically just walking up the Virgin River through the
narrowest part of the canyon. The year
before we didn't know much about it and early in the season it's often closed
as the river is too high and fast from the winter run off. <br />
This trip though we'd seen a number of people dressed in waders with wading
staffs who were hiking back there. <br />
We loaded the car and decided to make a quick stop for some memorabilia at the
Visitor's Center on our way out. As we
walked back to the car there was an older woman decked out in Narrows gear in
the parking lot. I stopped her, asked
where she rented the outfit, and then we decided we were going to do it
provided we could find a campsite for the night. <br />
We turned into the South Campground, a first come first serve site and within
our first loop found an open site and put up our tent to stake our claim. We then headed to Springdale to rent our gear
and take on the Narrows. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKsWjLtJLMTO5OcoJTfVvgpeb3XZIpypKvHd3ECyKK5pCvezbyDCNLBJH-PE7Ip3skEA9PD_smjnJ90_k6dqqrgFasA3iXu49Hb0qyjOOKhVIXp4E9CKJXckuPLqXK9q81nPlTWEWrT19/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKsWjLtJLMTO5OcoJTfVvgpeb3XZIpypKvHd3ECyKK5pCvezbyDCNLBJH-PE7Ip3skEA9PD_smjnJ90_k6dqqrgFasA3iXu49Hb0qyjOOKhVIXp4E9CKJXckuPLqXK9q81nPlTWEWrT19/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+158.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Renting the gear was quick and soon we were in our rubber waders and water
proof shoes on the shuttle all the way to the Temple of Sinawava where we began
to follow the river back into the canyon. <br />
The water was chilly, yet to be warmed by the sun that hadn't gotten over the
rim of the canyon. We walked through
water up to our shins for a while, skirting the shore when we could then plow
through it with the aid of our staffs when there was no room on shore. <br />
The water got deeper at different spots as the river carved out the bottom to
get around big boulders, and through little water falls. <br />
Every where we looked we said "Oh my gosh, look at that!" "Look
up! WOW!" The walls rose steeply on each side and the light playing on
them changed their colors and you could see the wear that the years of the
river wearing down the walls took.
Sometimes there were big caves carved from the sides, other times the
walls were strong and straight like the side of a skyscraper.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjAHoNfkHIFspGEL7csXv3wARR_bV97bjTBA0qwa2IHm6AMdIhBs-86kB4BjtGoBu_4AFps2fwRZpP1zHq75nSyae-j6sfqwS_MAC2mzSfMokiYQy3Te0DlQaQsc_56chyGJKqp8sCmrrn/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjAHoNfkHIFspGEL7csXv3wARR_bV97bjTBA0qwa2IHm6AMdIhBs-86kB4BjtGoBu_4AFps2fwRZpP1zHq75nSyae-j6sfqwS_MAC2mzSfMokiYQy3Te0DlQaQsc_56chyGJKqp8sCmrrn/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+166.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />We made it through the Wall Street area where the walls get so narrow the sky
looks like a small strip far above your head. <br />
We followed a side canyon for a while before it got too deep and forced us back
and eventually that happened in the main canyon too. The water began to rise, getting up
around my chest and Ali at 5-1 would have flooded her waders so we made the
decision that was as far as we could go. <br />
In all we waded up the river for over 3 hours and it was exhausting. We turned and headed back down, reaching the
shuttle around 5pm climbed on for the 40 minute drive back and Ali promptly
fell asleep. <br />
Too lazy to cook dinner we stopped by the Whiptail again after returning our
gear and crashed under the nearly full moon in the tent.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The East Rim<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rather than try to blast to Bryce Canyon for a day, and on
our way back have to battle the traffic created in St. George from their Iron
Man event that weekend & risk being late returning our rental car we just
upped for another night at our site and headed out to explore the East Rim. <br />
We climbed out of Weeping Rock again, making it two miles up the wall before branching
back into that familiar white rock we ran into on our trip to the backcountry. <br />
There was no real path so we followed the cairns over the ups and downs of this
crazy rock, desert section of the park. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJFNrEiWttGtVxWvj9rM-rYWJDEt_IAIhtPBBCLCqmC0PxK5WT6rLbapD21D0Y_HVIK4IBLHaseWTqprBb5Rqo5T4VU2KqmpZxrOrex-_aJXiDnhURgpL7GExbalf_artiz8zfngOlf7L/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJFNrEiWttGtVxWvj9rM-rYWJDEt_IAIhtPBBCLCqmC0PxK5WT6rLbapD21D0Y_HVIK4IBLHaseWTqprBb5Rqo5T4VU2KqmpZxrOrex-_aJXiDnhURgpL7GExbalf_artiz8zfngOlf7L/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+176.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Salamanders skirted our trekking poles, and a snake hopped out of the way at
one point, as we made our way back towards the east rim. <br />
We knew we were going to have to climb again but we didn't anticipate how steep
the climb was going to be. <br />
It started off switchbacks then it seemed to just turn and go straight up the
side of the canyon wall. We leaned into
our poles, both cursing the map that only showed a few little squiggles not
this monstrosity of a climb. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-08efgy0GiDeDbQfK_IdoCtsk_zonbN_IOs1hloJ-xXWEMDRahfsKjRiN8oQynBhiCUEHNDo3csI0Q58SlQIFaC0DxEm_CWrC09OwktbLd-OOPzRM_owm8QgeuKVbr1-0pt8-joJtj336/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-08efgy0GiDeDbQfK_IdoCtsk_zonbN_IOs1hloJ-xXWEMDRahfsKjRiN8oQynBhiCUEHNDo3csI0Q58SlQIFaC0DxEm_CWrC09OwktbLd-OOPzRM_owm8QgeuKVbr1-0pt8-joJtj336/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+181.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
We finally wound our way around the wall and ended up looking towards
Observation Point, Angels landing and the rest of the Canyon, we were about
even height-wise with Observation Point but really far back looking out towards
it all. We stopped up there for lunch
and carried on until we reached the prairie of the East Rim, tagged a sign and turned
around to head back. It was officially
our final day in Zion...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As was custom by this point we took the shuttle to the
lodge, grabbed a snack & relaxed on the outdoor patio looking up at the
walls of the Canyon, then went down another two stops before getting out cooling
off in the river and following it back to our campground. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnP4lyHFU1QFC9I8KLj13wTI-Dk7GI9qai8O8YXur5nuY_vZ5UjNtFg2-CigOBVp45vLdJJYzf0fjXIXBXQxwdL0IHQxgh-IDAATxAcF5_WVOp_DkizI4XolbxsKBttW52oy8mmZiOloFf/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnP4lyHFU1QFC9I8KLj13wTI-Dk7GI9qai8O8YXur5nuY_vZ5UjNtFg2-CigOBVp45vLdJJYzf0fjXIXBXQxwdL0IHQxgh-IDAATxAcF5_WVOp_DkizI4XolbxsKBttW52oy8mmZiOloFf/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+185.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
A full moon was coming, we'd miss it by a day, but a nearly full moon was
always off to our left chilling over the walls in the bright blue sky waiting
for evening to really show off. <br />
That night after dinner we headed up the Watchman trail, a short hike across
the river to catch the sunset. Clouds
obscured it in the distance but it was clear above us and the moon lit up the
Watchman like a spotlight. <br />
We sat in silence, watching as stars began to pop up as twilight descended upon
the area. The silence was total, but not
smothering, it was a comfortable silence.
You got that feeling that you were right where you needed to be. Our bodies were tired from the effort of the week
hiking, but our minds were fresh and relaxed. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-Nww1Sj25N-4OdDFVOoUiXLR0JLM3C2Y2xTRCjmnVHvjLXv-7ixSiPV8Fyan-M2-aCZ6qcBOnJFuZjXQph_Hqno0ajMQ2JVW7m7beDNtdMqsestUCf8z0cy9znLpvdjXdyuesCPGQctX/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="105" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-Nww1Sj25N-4OdDFVOoUiXLR0JLM3C2Y2xTRCjmnVHvjLXv-7ixSiPV8Fyan-M2-aCZ6qcBOnJFuZjXQph_Hqno0ajMQ2JVW7m7beDNtdMqsestUCf8z0cy9znLpvdjXdyuesCPGQctX/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+194.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
Finally we strolled hand in hand back to our campsite at one point turning our
headlamps off and realizing we could do the hike by the light of the moon (we
didn't but we could have) and along the way had to stop while three mule deer
climbed up onto the trail after getting a drink from the river. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally the day had come; we had to leave our canyon
paradise. A leisurely breakfast at
Wildcat Willy's and then we were off, winding our way back to Las Vegas where
we would fly out the following morning. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Along the way we stopped at Hoover Dam, what a contrast that was. We went from one of the more amazing feats of
Mother Nature to one totally man-made.
We left the Dam with an unsettled feeling. Are dams good or bad, after watching the
documentary Damnation, they make a great case for getting rid of deadbeat
dams. But what about something like
Hoover Dam? Was it helping the environment,
or was it just fueling the decadence of Vegas?
What about the canyon behind it that is now underwater, could it have
been as beautiful as Zion? We didn't
have any answers to those questions and were glad to get on the road and put
that wall of concrete in our rearview mirror. </div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is nothing quite like re-acclimating to society, and
no faster way to jump back into the waters than in the excess of Las
Vegas. We enjoyed our first shower in a
week, washing away the layers of red dirt and sand, had a great meal and
crashed on a huge, soft bed full of pillows, a nice treat after 7 days sleeping
on the canyon floor in our tent.... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUjqDRR0xHUlGiJRS7AysLw4r2L0Ep1uLyJz3LxP8g3FGaPcKHoHydeMh8axRI1iulpGESyCDnvyDIMdfYk0n9mJC10PHXAxJ88ZwhJsqwhtTa8GZJfUmoXg4lgGFvbBYHvbIYZUIaFP1/s1600/Zion+Canyon+Trip+067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUjqDRR0xHUlGiJRS7AysLw4r2L0Ep1uLyJz3LxP8g3FGaPcKHoHydeMh8axRI1iulpGESyCDnvyDIMdfYk0n9mJC10PHXAxJ88ZwhJsqwhtTa8GZJfUmoXg4lgGFvbBYHvbIYZUIaFP1/s320/Zion+Canyon+Trip+067.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-6564042738113698692015-03-23T07:15:00.001-07:002015-03-23T07:15:34.890-07:00Can't Ask For More<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycfd_8I9gFLB5iHQGsxTY0LspAXEQgN08b1kJEqqskPU4X9Ayn74Bd_t0FeOkdI0ICpDkQkGUW6RgAr15zCaYhYATjJyq9zVRPu7RzOtYt2V_MGU7kvXopL_6oJf4OENRHgeE3j5iX2U-/s1600/Stream.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycfd_8I9gFLB5iHQGsxTY0LspAXEQgN08b1kJEqqskPU4X9Ayn74Bd_t0FeOkdI0ICpDkQkGUW6RgAr15zCaYhYATjJyq9zVRPu7RzOtYt2V_MGU7kvXopL_6oJf4OENRHgeE3j5iX2U-/s1600/Stream.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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"When you arise in the morning think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love"- Aurelius</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
awake to sunlight filtering through the blinds, the fan blowing slowly at the
end of the bed forces me back under the covers where it's warm but I know I
must get moving. <br />
Up to the kitchen, bare feet dancing across the cold linoleum floor, start the
coffee. The smell of the beans begins to
wake my senses. <br />
Fill the hydration pack, water, gels, blocks, not sure how long I'll be out so
load it up. Hand held filled and packed,
check the temps, sunny but chilly.
Tights, windbreaker and gloves though I don't end up using them. <br />
Point the car to the east and head for Afton, music loud, sun shining bright,
coffee brings me back to life. <br />
By the time I make the turn off the highway air drums being played, music louder,
whole body buzzing with the thought of a morning of trail running. <br />
Park, pull on my pack, sunglasses, visor, leave the gloves, start the watch,
drop down the first hill to the stream.
Body slowly loosening up, long strides down the hill, arms helicoptering
at my sides for balance, hit the straight away and slow down to ease into it. <br />
Back up a hill to the prairie, sun warms my face while a cool wind chills my
body. Circle the prairie until I find
the path back down to the streams.
Turning into it I let my body go.
Warmed up now and feeling confident in the firm ground I focus on
letting my feet skip over the rocks, hopping little holes & washouts, a
smile works its way across my face, feet reacting before I can even think to
tell them what to do. <br />
Hit the bottom, smile even bigger, feels great to be back out here skimming
over the stones, smelling the grass and trees. <br />
Pass a few people coming towards me on the next stretch. Everyone with a smile on their faces, which
are rosy red from the chilly wind, or the sun, I can't tell. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Hit some muddy single track, still slick
from the snow melt, feet slide out from under me as if I were on roller
skates. Shorten the stride, slow down, and
stay upright. <br />
Rolling into a ravine I see a couple kids and their parents crossing a dried
out stream bed by climbing on a downed tree.
Looks like fun but I'll save it for another time, there's miles to chase
and sun on my face, can't ask for much more. </span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-3087660332844177392015-02-27T06:40:00.001-08:002015-02-27T06:40:55.496-08:00Roll the Dice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1dDFZQwh0KlxQJo6a1NrY8Kv8r2YqyX3kP4TLWaiJss2wtrd2lDYrExDqKCqscJYYXmPOTohzrQqCw4iLYy9s1UWe9JK7lQUZBZ9UfrNQUlNwmNr-oQ4nGGkFZWKO0W025zWkyLfSpVQ/s1600/Dice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1dDFZQwh0KlxQJo6a1NrY8Kv8r2YqyX3kP4TLWaiJss2wtrd2lDYrExDqKCqscJYYXmPOTohzrQqCw4iLYy9s1UWe9JK7lQUZBZ9UfrNQUlNwmNr-oQ4nGGkFZWKO0W025zWkyLfSpVQ/s1600/Dice.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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'May the odds be ever in your favor'- Hunger Games</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">News came down this week that the Spring and
Fall Superior Trail Races in Northern, MN will be switching to a <a href="http://fall.superiortrailrace.com/2015/02/23/press-release-superior-spring-and-fall-trail-races-will-switch-to-a-lottery-registration-process/">lottery system</a>. There was much uproar about the
move but as detailed in the press release it was a move that had to be made as
the demand rose so fast. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
I feel fortunate to have gotten into the Spring 50K that filled up in mere
hours this year. Luckily I was stuck at my desk when it opened and was able to
snag a spot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
When I first read that they were going to move to a lottery system I, like many
others, wasn't all that happy with the move. Like many people, I plan months ahead for these races. Whether it's the training schedule, travel or just life in general the planning starts well in advance. Last year the Fall 100 miler was on my mind
and in the works from March all the way until a few days after when my brother
Paul flew back home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
I understand, maybe better than anyone, that there are certain years when you
can make a big event like that work and others where you can't. So to have your fate held in a lottery can be
distressing. <br />
But the longer I thought about it the more I realized I am okay with the move
and understand the reasoning behind it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
It was something that had to be done as the demand to get into these races
grew, and there is good reason for the demand.
John Storkamp and his crew at Rock Steady Running do a wonderful job putting these events on. They are first-class races in every way. The courses are well-marked and challenging,
the aid stations are well stocked and full of great people and the events
always run smooth and have plenty of unique swag for the runners. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
Not everyone will get into the race they want to this year or in the years to
come, unfortunately that's part of the lottery process, not everyone is a
winner. I've felt that sting twice now
with Western States. This year I really
felt like it was going to happen, <a href="https://twitter.com/ahills9">Ali</a> & I sat with our breakfast and coffee
watching a stream of the lottery waiting to hear my name. Three Minnesotans were pulled but not
me. It was disappointing there's no
doubt about it. But at the same time it
was a lot of fun sitting there watching the lottery, making it an event,
getting excited for the MN people. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
The lottery made it feel bigger, and I think that can happen with
this, almost turn it into the Midwestern States.
Superior Lottery watch parties, qualifying races, if your running buddy
doesn't get in, and you do maybe that opens up a volunteer opportunity, or
pacing or crewing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
And if nothing else this might be an opportunity to explore other trails and
new races. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
This is all part of the evolution of trail running, as it gets more popular
more and more races are moving to lottery systems and just like when your plans
change in the middle of a race, we must adjust and make the best of it.</span></div>
<br />John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-11878862516773856842015-02-03T14:24:00.000-08:002015-02-03T14:24:11.584-08:00Finding Your Misogi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhBJiTnNCG9givgfVmZNJypaEMo54Iva_Kkvfp8TnzsytiPFWy10yJDWIuqPqGa78042v4LWPGUHSoK3axL-K1oQfsCwKY9cjRVu8tpS4HPRRh6VwDM9bEnaqHWlMr6QbIHQN9_4D6mSD/s1600/Fall+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhBJiTnNCG9givgfVmZNJypaEMo54Iva_Kkvfp8TnzsytiPFWy10yJDWIuqPqGa78042v4LWPGUHSoK3axL-K1oQfsCwKY9cjRVu8tpS4HPRRh6VwDM9bEnaqHWlMr6QbIHQN9_4D6mSD/s1600/Fall+011.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
"You can't fall if you don't climb. But there's no joy in living your whole life
on the ground"- Unknown</div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few weeks ago I read an article in Outside Magazine about
Kyle Korver, the sharp-shooter for the Atlanta Hawks. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Korver, and the Hawks for that matter, is having a great season. He's got an opportunity to do something no
other NBA player in the history of the game has accomplished, shooting 50% from
the floor, 50% from 3pt range and 90% at the free throw line. Not only that but Korver's Hawks are in the driver's
seat in the Eastern Conference and just had their 19-game winning streak
snapped. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The article in Outside, which you can read <a href="http://www.outsideonline.com/fitness/mental-conditioning/The-One-Day-a-Year-Fitness-Plan-Misogi.html">here</a>, talked about Korver's
off-season workouts. Not the normal kind
where a guy's in a gym putting up thousands of shots per day, or out on sand
dunes running up and down while throwing medicine balls. Instead it introduced the concept of Misogi.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Misogi is a Japanese concept of purifying the mind/body/spirit through some
sort of physical training or exercise.
In Korver's case he and his trainer have devised a series of one day
workouts that take him totally out of his comfort zone and push him past his perceived
limits. Once he's pushed past what he
thought was his limit it opens the mind to what else may be possible. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Not all of us can rent a boat in Mexico and go out hauling a rock around
underwater like Korver, but there are plenty of ways to develop your own Misogi,
and it doesn't have to be a once a year thing, it can be practically every day. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Over the past few years I have been practicing this concept without having a
name for it, or even really realizing I was doing it. Stepping up from marathon to 50K, from 50K to
50 miles, running multiple Ultra's in a year, or a month, heading to Patagonia on my own without speaking any Spanish. Pushing beyond what I thought was possible
and feeling energized and a mental clarity that was beyond anything I had experienced
before. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Heading into 2015 one of my goals was to challenge myself in a different way
each month, sort of a monthly Misogi.
Doesn't always have to be a race, or physical challenge, it can also be
a mental one or anything that takes me out of my comfort zone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
January's Misogi was going to Yoga on my own, something that was challenging
both physically and mentally. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I've been going to yoga on a semi-regular basis for the past 9 months but
always tagging along with <a href="https://twitter.com/ahills9">Ali</a>, who helped make it easy for me. With Ali I never had to remember what class I
was going to, if I didn't know what move we were supposed to be on I could
always look to her and she'd show me, she'd laugh when I groaned at the concept
of more core work, and found me towels when I was drowning in my own
sweat. Plus she always put her mat next
to mine to assure that I was at least splashing sweat on her and not some poor
stranger. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The benefits I've seen since starting Yoga made me want to go more and in order
to do that I'd have to venture out on my own. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
My first few trips there resulted in the normal awkward moments that seem to
plague me no matter where I go, dropped water bottles disturbing pre-class
relaxation, forgetting which class I was attempting to take & covering the
mirror and some poor strangers in my sweat. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
But without Ali there during the actual class I was really forced to learn what
was going on and not just follow what she did.
It focused my mind, something that didn't always happen when I knew I
could just peek at what she was doing. I
pushed myself to prove that I belong and I'm not just there with Ali. I am still not good, but there's a reason
they call it 'practicing yoga' no one is really an expert. Everyone is trying to get better each and
every day, and that's how I approach it.
So when I am standing there hands on my knees panting from exhaustion in
a puddle of my own sweat while the rest of the class contorts themselves
without even a glisten of perspiration, that's what I come back to, I'm
practicing at my own pace. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I am very grateful for the times I do get to go with Ali and show her what I've
learned and watch how much better she is at the postures, but also to show her
I know what class I'm here for...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
As for next month's Misogi, we'll see what challenge bubbles to the top in the
next week or so.</div>
John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-74784610635327922382015-01-26T08:58:00.001-08:002015-01-26T08:58:27.168-08:00Beginnings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvI2p6W7MUJttA07qNkBVbyRw4xv80DGdisPzNTNSjwq82hcZoy4SxtN_nm92F7yzy5t0qjUekVYQW33FxI7ekORkrmsxShU1N67Wg_GEL3YQLFlgfnm7glycV2rXiJlfiKgPoDrT3yx7f/s1600/Summer+14+069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvI2p6W7MUJttA07qNkBVbyRw4xv80DGdisPzNTNSjwq82hcZoy4SxtN_nm92F7yzy5t0qjUekVYQW33FxI7ekORkrmsxShU1N67Wg_GEL3YQLFlgfnm7glycV2rXiJlfiKgPoDrT3yx7f/s1600/Summer+14+069.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you
can."- Arthur Ashe</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was the first time in a long time that I allowed myself an off-season, not
running 5 days a week, instead taking time to rebuild myself after going year
round for 3-plus years. <br />
Time was spent practicing yoga, getting back in the gym working to rebuild some
strength lost while focusing on running, and in the end just relaxing. Allowing myself slow mornings of coffee and
reading before going to work, not pushing out the door for what sometimes
turned into tired, junk miles. <br />
But now that time is over, and I am starting to ramp up again with a body and
mind that feels much fresher than in years past. <br />
That quote from Arthur Ashe can be taken many different ways, for me I think of
my running. Everyone has to start
somewhere, whether coming back after some time off, or stepping out the door
for the first time. You can wish you
were in better shape, had trained harder, been more physically gifted, but
you're not. You have to start right
where you are. <br />
Use what you have, build up to where you want to be, it's all a process. Nothing happens overnight. <br />
Do what you can, maybe it's just a mile today, maybe it's 10. It's all about where you are, do what you can, come back to it the next day and do what you can that day. <br />
As I start to ramp up my miles again I have to remember that I am not in the
type of shape to put up huge mileage weeks like I was in September leading into
the Superior 100. If I tried that now my
body would break down and I'd end up injured.
But I know that I can get one good longish run in each week, and the
next week extend it out a little further.
Use the fitness I have today to get better tomorrow. <br />
The first stage in this building process will be the Trail Mix 50K in late
April, followed by the Superior 50K in mid-May with a backpacking trip to Zion
National Park in between. My goal for
this season is to race, not run these events.
To really push myself, not for a time goal per say but to see what I can
do, I know I can finish the distances but to find out how hard I can push
myself. <br />
After Superior work kicks in and limits my summer racing, but I plan to use
this time wisely to build a base of training and strength for the next stage in
the fall. First will be pacing Ali
through her first, and my 8th, Twin Cities Marathon. Then I plan to tackle the Wild Duluth 100K, a
distance I have yet to try. <br />
But it all starts right here, where I am today, and if I focus on getting
better today, tomorrow and the rest will take care of itself.</div>
</div>
John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-76612591563819551722015-01-26T06:01:00.002-08:002015-01-26T06:03:06.131-08:00What I Wish I Knew Marathon Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF42gzuhixUUIjkQPiqFb-0hZG8z5pOO8Sybf_zNGv-RD3qK-wK1FsTYD3LKNsNRf2mJFtQjSnWshq9oGzUbzESlleh7UBT68v_bfXLuR0wFSYfn-GywpW59To3iwr4ufhIzDw6UHxGQNz/s1600/1909608_562779124100_3360_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF42gzuhixUUIjkQPiqFb-0hZG8z5pOO8Sybf_zNGv-RD3qK-wK1FsTYD3LKNsNRf2mJFtQjSnWshq9oGzUbzESlleh7UBT68v_bfXLuR0wFSYfn-GywpW59To3iwr4ufhIzDw6UHxGQNz/s1600/1909608_562779124100_3360_n.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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This post first appeared <a href="http://thewayout.co/running/first-marathon-wish-knew/">here:</a> </div>
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I ran my first marathon in 2007, Grandma's Marathon in
northern Minnesota, a 26.2 mile course that starts in Two Harbors and winds its
way along the shore of Lake Superior before ending in Canal Park in downtown
Duluth. <br />
Since then I have run 10 other marathons (7 Twin Cities Marathons, 2 more
Grandma's, and the Eugene Curnow trail marathon) and 12 ultra-marathons, but I
always go back to the lessons I learned in that first one. <br />
There is really no way to understand a race of that distance until you actually
do it. I read all the books, subscribed
to Runner's World magazine, followed a training plan as close as I could but
none of it truly prepared me for the actual event. <br />
Books, magazines, blog posts all try to warn you about starting off too fast,
staying hydrated, fueling, and staying mentally strong. At my first marathon, despite all the
warnings, I did just about everything wrong. <br />
Part of it is just learning your body, knowing the training load your body can
handle and how to taper. For me I ran
hard in all of my training, didn't understand an LSD (long, slow, day) did my
hill work at top speed without recovering in between repeats and as a result
ended up at the starting line exhausted.
For 18 weeks I pushed myself every day to get ready for this race and by
the time I got to Duluth to pick up my packet I was spent. <br />
Now when I train for a marathon I know how far I can go on my training runs
without working myself to exhaustion, and better understand the importance of a
rest day. I am not a fan of a total rest
day, but more active recovery so that I keep my body moving but don't stress it
too much. <br />
Also the taper period is huge, slowing down a week or so before the event. Resting, doing fewer miles and running slower
during this time doesn't hurt you but allows you to toe the line feeling fresh.
<br />
Another area where I totally bombed in my first marathon was nutrition leading
up to and during the event. <br />
At the time I thought it was great, run a lot, eat all you want. Carbo load, yes sir, give me all the
breadsticks you have! <br />
That's not really much of an exaggeration either. I remember in the final week leading up to
Grandma's I was eating pasta every night and on my way home I would stop at
Little Caesars for an order of Crazy Bread to go with it. Then fearing that I wouldn't have enough
fuel, I'd walk down to Cal's Party store (great little joint by my apt in
Marquette, MI) and get a huge container of peanut butter desert. No idea what was in it but there were a lot
of carbs which was a good thing in my mind, and it tasted amazing. <br />
The problem was that kind of food is really hard to process and as a result I
just got full...but I kept eating that week because I thought I'd need it. <br />
When I arrived in Duluth I was so full I debated not eating the night before
the race, but they had a spaghetti dinner so of course I took down two
platefuls as 'fuel.'<br />
The morning of the race my breakfast was a bottle of milk and an instant
breakfast packet with a protein bar, not a great choice, none of that is very
nutrient dense and there's not much sustainable fuel in there. <br />
Biggest nutrition takeaway I learned was don't deviate too much from what you
normally do. Stick to foods you are used
to, that you can process, and maybe in the days leading up add in some extra
rice or something but don't go overboard trying to carbo-load. There's a good chance you have enough carbs
stored up to be just fine.<br />
During the actual race there were two things that really stood out, lessons
that I learned the hard way and think about every time I've toed the line
since. <br />
First, run your race. My brother and I
started that race like our pants were on fire.
We took off thinking we were going to win. It didn't last...by mile 20 for him and mile
18 for me we were cooked and it was a slow painful march to the finish. Sure it was great to be booking for the part
and feeling like you might place, but the last 6-8 miles were some of the worst
miles I have ever 'run' in my life. <br />
The second thing is fueling during the race, which may have helped stave off
the march at the end. Drink early, drink
often but don't get a sloshy stomach. So
much of this really is about feel. I
didn't drink at any of the first few aid stations because I was so full (see my
carbo-loading above) so I thought I could just run it off and then later my
stomach would clear and I could drink water.
Didn't work out that way. <br />
By the time I started to hydrate it was too late and my body was getting racked
by cramps in my quads and calves. <br />
The other thing was fuel; find something that works for you. In marathon's I use gels, in ultra's clif
bars, and shot-blocks, whatever it is, find something you can stomach that
gives you the energy you need to finish.
<br />
In that first one, I had a packet of jelly beans. They were like 'runners energy beans' or
something but I'd never used them before and by the time I tried them I was 15
miles into the race and so dehydrated that when I popped a handful in my mouth
I choked on them. They shot up into my
nose since I couldn't swallow them and eventually I sneezed out a full jelly
bean, hilarious for those on the sidelines watching, but not much fun to go
through while trying to run.<br />
I'd love to say that since then I've mastered these areas and never had a bad
race but that would be a lie. It's all
still a work in progress and you'll have good days and bad days it comes with
the territory. <br />
There's a great quote I read once that sums it up 'Endurance running is
special. It requires paying attention to
the mind, body and spirit. It requires
being honest with yourself. It does not
require pain.'</div>
<br />John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-27785390152278763752014-12-30T07:12:00.000-08:002014-12-30T07:12:30.245-08:002014 The Year In Pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZ5lfCeJ8gT-djaYxOSpK-kR5PFzgXrrOgYAvoxCUstHFIsKfLUZnEZYZqEubDY594Qh50CN1IW41iEhX7NNEIIkSV0plAnC38KgF7WanLPcV0jRlmqGTSqj_UgYdiez-jtKosy38TNk2/s1600/Southwest+Tour+323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZ5lfCeJ8gT-djaYxOSpK-kR5PFzgXrrOgYAvoxCUstHFIsKfLUZnEZYZqEubDY594Qh50CN1IW41iEhX7NNEIIkSV0plAnC38KgF7WanLPcV0jRlmqGTSqj_UgYdiez-jtKosy38TNk2/s1600/Southwest+Tour+323.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I am but an old child wandering along unsupervised...John Morelock</div>
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2014 was a pretty amazing year. From running the Grand Canyon rim to rim to rim, to climbing Angels Landing, running the Superior 100, countless trips up north, Mexico City & everything that happened on a day to day basis, couldn't ask for a better one. </div>
Here it is, 2014 in pictures-<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQzmvQ1dSFlqKk0hTGYZVcozEbzoh2UezBIMaN8yptek4FB5yYoMJ96GXqkPmlmaBwsy246Z8dJL0VM7ROwpxS8GMA7-3KIj5l-OCQ2emEZAfHzoMhtZkbNBICxXSzV1h2N57xKFlM1Ai/s1600/IMG_1675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQzmvQ1dSFlqKk0hTGYZVcozEbzoh2UezBIMaN8yptek4FB5yYoMJ96GXqkPmlmaBwsy246Z8dJL0VM7ROwpxS8GMA7-3KIj5l-OCQ2emEZAfHzoMhtZkbNBICxXSzV1h2N57xKFlM1Ai/s1600/IMG_1675.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The annual All-Star Break trip to Gunflint</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUF6M_bbqgxdVGBmFr4uPzoxlpm_h-pt3TiLFeWs3yMpq6zoSuYiKoitGp9DbqCRqaVWCUy9a_8QdeIMewljCsO1xWpwv6NLXQNGJC_3kCcswHUI1hGyladSHGY_Nhg_Z0E5EFhgOBJOtl/s1600/Southwest+Tour+053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUF6M_bbqgxdVGBmFr4uPzoxlpm_h-pt3TiLFeWs3yMpq6zoSuYiKoitGp9DbqCRqaVWCUy9a_8QdeIMewljCsO1xWpwv6NLXQNGJC_3kCcswHUI1hGyladSHGY_Nhg_Z0E5EFhgOBJOtl/s1600/Southwest+Tour+053.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting the Rim to Rim to Rim with Greg & Mitch</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcfdvdfpNt0ZSeSa2zQZ9oiaj2Uh9IlD8g07eTufJI6Ent-qind9Rr0Qz3fOFOm6hx2Ya3cBii4tsrkLYBc4Ea8rz-Ce4iZZwG2ZvsYACTagtsKXRAmNYuYkHGoWgtkzrgiItnqMOlSY8F/s1600/Southwest+Tour+050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcfdvdfpNt0ZSeSa2zQZ9oiaj2Uh9IlD8g07eTufJI6Ent-qind9Rr0Qz3fOFOm6hx2Ya3cBii4tsrkLYBc4Ea8rz-Ce4iZZwG2ZvsYACTagtsKXRAmNYuYkHGoWgtkzrgiItnqMOlSY8F/s1600/Southwest+Tour+050.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where we would eventually finish though it was much darker<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZpfhvE3fE51LJaBXfZ33ZyfGRjM_GRx0nT9cleeiPIjr5yeexMeFJxrq55tmgHBfm-Dfl79thS41gW0_Yo-qa9StL4lYaiVCpULxpwbUyHyc6EYuszfLQ2SDvyA0pSoqvSBGDj4sZJKk/s1600/Southwest+Tour+170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZpfhvE3fE51LJaBXfZ33ZyfGRjM_GRx0nT9cleeiPIjr5yeexMeFJxrq55tmgHBfm-Dfl79thS41gW0_Yo-qa9StL4lYaiVCpULxpwbUyHyc6EYuszfLQ2SDvyA0pSoqvSBGDj4sZJKk/s1600/Southwest+Tour+170.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Sedona</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1yMAGXKwCTB2yX8RcgOYYE4xV-BxMmoCUX1n5q1jrTlhuoML9tzB1vUbgsc_iSU7leZr8MseXor7NKxUR3axCOIGBRmBbfUstxPRX650k7euBaudSOa7Ix3Vm6egiTOLJtszTmT7MTd/s1600/Southwest+Tour+235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv1yMAGXKwCTB2yX8RcgOYYE4xV-BxMmoCUX1n5q1jrTlhuoML9tzB1vUbgsc_iSU7leZr8MseXor7NKxUR3axCOIGBRmBbfUstxPRX650k7euBaudSOa7Ix3Vm6egiTOLJtszTmT7MTd/s1600/Southwest+Tour+235.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of Angels Landing Zion National Park<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmH_bixHRg_UtVN4W3A1PlPkDSaoW8lYxm6NO_i5JA1dNUlkI7f6nj82oVCDrcPVG19vovnyOOjVDtTqsyVA5zgMr71lJw6abGWO00E5tXd3Dn787m131dbijrxY-WLqDozdm-C4bJMyo/s1600/Southwest+Tour+376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmH_bixHRg_UtVN4W3A1PlPkDSaoW8lYxm6NO_i5JA1dNUlkI7f6nj82oVCDrcPVG19vovnyOOjVDtTqsyVA5zgMr71lJw6abGWO00E5tXd3Dn787m131dbijrxY-WLqDozdm-C4bJMyo/s1600/Southwest+Tour+376.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finishing up a rim to river hike at Bright Angel Trail Head</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XBL91ATbOtSQ2OE_ShM64mtfap2uNqmGZngF1cH_w-LVCbtyINmlk2HvkHjBhRml57bwltq5quq4JEBaMS36tnEVP92AUC9DAOR9INM6l5doYPIlFW7HGwL8VLsm3mdl63h-gCdwH18q/s1600/IMG_2389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XBL91ATbOtSQ2OE_ShM64mtfap2uNqmGZngF1cH_w-LVCbtyINmlk2HvkHjBhRml57bwltq5quq4JEBaMS36tnEVP92AUC9DAOR9INM6l5doYPIlFW7HGwL8VLsm3mdl63h-gCdwH18q/s1600/IMG_2389.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plenty of time out on the lakes of Mpls.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4x7B0qb_CwBkY5St-XSoAIBLkMUP8K3kAmn5E-gxUPr3Kxv_oZ_isF-QVvaSN0dtDx5WxECjRuybL-IKdWVhx2RFR14Uacz4zLLKIiMR80pCGTued00hJpv7GdEbDK8rANVQC78NzLmBH/s1600/IMG_2279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4x7B0qb_CwBkY5St-XSoAIBLkMUP8K3kAmn5E-gxUPr3Kxv_oZ_isF-QVvaSN0dtDx5WxECjRuybL-IKdWVhx2RFR14Uacz4zLLKIiMR80pCGTued00hJpv7GdEbDK8rANVQC78NzLmBH/s1600/IMG_2279.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting to visit the White House with the World Champion MN Lynx<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXAca8632cL8vHwHco1A6U6IhOEGweQwsGg2u5_uiSKmipiCIV05YMWQSbZ9thACQp-6OUFK_Nj-2hUVVMJ4Zu_N9uEO1Qs5MYFd8oTqU7ANunuJXw3V5UaGgRRQZ9Ve5KalZBfOG7xOX/s1600/Summer+14+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXAca8632cL8vHwHco1A6U6IhOEGweQwsGg2u5_uiSKmipiCIV05YMWQSbZ9thACQp-6OUFK_Nj-2hUVVMJ4Zu_N9uEO1Qs5MYFd8oTqU7ANunuJXw3V5UaGgRRQZ9Ve5KalZBfOG7xOX/s1600/Summer+14+006.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">City Trail Loppet<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUT-MZsqv-ms8CpDi8OW-0z1d09WIDjpIJHoyQQ_Qf9mk2Zq5kAdPiVGwB7PirBYdO616usz5oiDKo_pVY70WRXBlQbeovWLhazYhLr41U6czJ-_e1f0BPBqaEjHcrHMnWYOomH7yFRd_/s1600/Summer+14+063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUT-MZsqv-ms8CpDi8OW-0z1d09WIDjpIJHoyQQ_Qf9mk2Zq5kAdPiVGwB7PirBYdO616usz5oiDKo_pVY70WRXBlQbeovWLhazYhLr41U6czJ-_e1f0BPBqaEjHcrHMnWYOomH7yFRd_/s1600/Summer+14+063.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Eugene Curnow Marathon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnbcLumNhGFmBKQeyGjFKddIWqUA_sC1M0MQEnNBTFZVLkzI20f3Cs0kN6_0ZrzFtVhPEaByXhDV-OuKWOv7d1xo2Mm0w8NqE8eNuwZ1zXjVV_FpOkofgN6eDlYArJ2FyJlPCsyeRRGfs/s1600/Summer+14+019+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnbcLumNhGFmBKQeyGjFKddIWqUA_sC1M0MQEnNBTFZVLkzI20f3Cs0kN6_0ZrzFtVhPEaByXhDV-OuKWOv7d1xo2Mm0w8NqE8eNuwZ1zXjVV_FpOkofgN6eDlYArJ2FyJlPCsyeRRGfs/s1600/Summer+14+019+(2).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ali's first Half Marathon</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetsz6D9OhiWH8n04_enQM8Pwun8EAfmsWv820iWG-PcOOESbX9FTSFCwB2hu43-It5wl2QjAjcPlC2Bahpu9S8zEbH7g1YXU7jfaYHKLvVgAnRXS2qv9TYl8LeevL7BoYywF9wzvr9E34/s1600/Summer+14+013+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetsz6D9OhiWH8n04_enQM8Pwun8EAfmsWv820iWG-PcOOESbX9FTSFCwB2hu43-It5wl2QjAjcPlC2Bahpu9S8zEbH7g1YXU7jfaYHKLvVgAnRXS2qv9TYl8LeevL7BoYywF9wzvr9E34/s1600/Summer+14+013+(2).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHIcComO5KxVvhNkELBRpSJ7_0BV1vGqjTqkgFItP7BmkqjvPg6exQEyi_rx4pYBhJ2_b9TaVYUaoX3zqTho-rFEo7hMdM9BlpDlb-gG0FdIcjFMjTh381Z3S5vTjFdO91JJJeTnsCtKv/s1600/Fall+047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHIcComO5KxVvhNkELBRpSJ7_0BV1vGqjTqkgFItP7BmkqjvPg6exQEyi_rx4pYBhJ2_b9TaVYUaoX3zqTho-rFEo7hMdM9BlpDlb-gG0FdIcjFMjTh381Z3S5vTjFdO91JJJeTnsCtKv/s1600/Fall+047.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mexico City with the Wolves<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rJ47H7BGRtq1MY-1_5kIOiNjdpUwJi18Dm0XG9utwszPCwjl7lMD6dRNfoXGfH7A1y_uGdamxO3biP9FMkbbv7ybmsVW7e41TxKQ_3N3kaOQ9hvrjXGJ4lQSkxTzYWR5-ABj3mwGpHgH/s1600/Fall+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rJ47H7BGRtq1MY-1_5kIOiNjdpUwJi18Dm0XG9utwszPCwjl7lMD6dRNfoXGfH7A1y_uGdamxO3biP9FMkbbv7ybmsVW7e41TxKQ_3N3kaOQ9hvrjXGJ4lQSkxTzYWR5-ABj3mwGpHgH/s1600/Fall+012.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-PFChMEFGbQ3NTYWSX2tsj_fJiyLPM48QcIG3h0vqsdnGmxvaFvDb6KhOuwdSW-6DuONLiiitFkEO5_5QwWbvA_4vQZ1i5zUpVyS2Sz5RaOly1_7jloWvw2zD4i7fPjiPPUGkzrfhKzU/s1600/Fall+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-PFChMEFGbQ3NTYWSX2tsj_fJiyLPM48QcIG3h0vqsdnGmxvaFvDb6KhOuwdSW-6DuONLiiitFkEO5_5QwWbvA_4vQZ1i5zUpVyS2Sz5RaOly1_7jloWvw2zD4i7fPjiPPUGkzrfhKzU/s1600/Fall+020.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halloween<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4CaGJJoWdz2ksei7EA1MnREtkM482N53pfyct75PznNjEBcOfnDI_ZNumHVgUndN2wA6TrSWPI06QMX1ObpqrO2G1OcdV4tQni-TnaWjwcW5HYiZjXvDEfVSy6uXOiIg0uqhK85yWJ2T/s1600/Summer+14+080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4CaGJJoWdz2ksei7EA1MnREtkM482N53pfyct75PznNjEBcOfnDI_ZNumHVgUndN2wA6TrSWPI06QMX1ObpqrO2G1OcdV4tQni-TnaWjwcW5HYiZjXvDEfVSy6uXOiIg0uqhK85yWJ2T/s1600/Summer+14+080.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Another trip to Hungry Jack Lake<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicl8iK8BqM-xnPMFBqsLAHqWTkdRD1R2qc3jfQx54U1CG7OdjFrDdFisqamKlC12O7mxwrTd8bawBHPFpvYl2hD1cuVXxW0Ar77BI8fe-2eb0Wgy7plcKgPqFc-1GATHOMC1icWemC_FJQ/s1600/Grand+Canyon+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicl8iK8BqM-xnPMFBqsLAHqWTkdRD1R2qc3jfQx54U1CG7OdjFrDdFisqamKlC12O7mxwrTd8bawBHPFpvYl2hD1cuVXxW0Ar77BI8fe-2eb0Wgy7plcKgPqFc-1GATHOMC1icWemC_FJQ/s1600/Grand+Canyon+015.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another Twin Cities Marathon in the books<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8hnqikzCR60NZjfr-5NOh391GfvigaES887vMRckWgfD-3WIRVIX4u5jNrl4FRwG8JFsSBd_tbpJnHRmvX4J2xEUG4y2SUM0YakAboX2PccjYhKUWFu4AekuBsWR1wvkIbuXkjTrlMMb/s1600/Summer+14+070+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8hnqikzCR60NZjfr-5NOh391GfvigaES887vMRckWgfD-3WIRVIX4u5jNrl4FRwG8JFsSBd_tbpJnHRmvX4J2xEUG4y2SUM0YakAboX2PccjYhKUWFu4AekuBsWR1wvkIbuXkjTrlMMb/s1600/Summer+14+070+(2).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Backpacking the Superior Hiking Trail<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxadbtqQ3uYPEMSiaDMUz6_D1yApT9vMerjnsstvmKkzrUmEUTzOxqCXvCUf-lFeB-JQDlidCGJKg8hgVuRCCDHhiMTghO4jtVQPcan0KdEwd4_tmo0mS7id9BxHnaTgHoPa1kCVAOFpTj/s1600/Summer+14+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxadbtqQ3uYPEMSiaDMUz6_D1yApT9vMerjnsstvmKkzrUmEUTzOxqCXvCUf-lFeB-JQDlidCGJKg8hgVuRCCDHhiMTghO4jtVQPcan0KdEwd4_tmo0mS7id9BxHnaTgHoPa1kCVAOFpTj/s1600/Summer+14+031.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting to see Paul, Adriana & B in Seattle</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWIqQdrpxYVfTF9hodVcjWdUaT7_BkaTMXVpvI9eY7rFkNpIxGCsSsiyekJ8hq_jZpIsAAKNLFIk2mIifbJQ0UXTDDZom-Z773AbfgMz_oxmC8Ix1bt1gpmOh9zD_Jy2uamlh3uoOlUEz/s1600/Superior+100+026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWIqQdrpxYVfTF9hodVcjWdUaT7_BkaTMXVpvI9eY7rFkNpIxGCsSsiyekJ8hq_jZpIsAAKNLFIk2mIifbJQ0UXTDDZom-Z773AbfgMz_oxmC8Ix1bt1gpmOh9zD_Jy2uamlh3uoOlUEz/s1600/Superior+100+026.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished the Superior 100<br /><br /><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixjAKEhXWet4BsqXjsuEgrAecLHWdhNILYTkSObQIHH-J2L-19BPH1LT9qMCxuISENTsVj-txivFbcNqSEqiyg4aqquF_A3ZTeiVh5SGFGMMqWB-AuOTLFaVLRNO6z-mXYucnlNyzlx988/s1600/Summer+14+067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixjAKEhXWet4BsqXjsuEgrAecLHWdhNILYTkSObQIHH-J2L-19BPH1LT9qMCxuISENTsVj-txivFbcNqSEqiyg4aqquF_A3ZTeiVh5SGFGMMqWB-AuOTLFaVLRNO6z-mXYucnlNyzlx988/s1600/Summer+14+067.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back up the Gunflint Trail<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfn4oHuL7lNdRc7DbYbY8EBWlDq8PzI6vxlE6dUDsppkC3YJsKZGmz1gXvz2V-sLLn7IRqFrCp8Vy3qPHHAQL7UYZBMUdupniA_v_3WqMmtPw5Cykg-Fv-a7MixGAYTD2pB-_AcOem8Gu/s1600/Grand+Canyon+146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfn4oHuL7lNdRc7DbYbY8EBWlDq8PzI6vxlE6dUDsppkC3YJsKZGmz1gXvz2V-sLLn7IRqFrCp8Vy3qPHHAQL7UYZBMUdupniA_v_3WqMmtPw5Cykg-Fv-a7MixGAYTD2pB-_AcOem8Gu/s1600/Grand+Canyon+146.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back to the Grand Canyon<br /></td></tr>
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</div>
John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-26937749933842242022014-12-16T09:32:00.000-08:002014-12-16T09:32:13.752-08:00Tribute To Big Mike<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Your work is to discover your world & then with all your heart give yourself to it."- Buddah</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another grey day, the clouds pressing low to the earth, but
at least on this morning there was a fresh layer of snow and flakes floating
lazily to the ground.<br />
I headed out with no real plan. Letting
the music in my headphones and the direction of the wind guide me. Turned on to lake of the Isles as the song
Bertha by the Grateful Dead played, my mind wandering...<br />
Nearly 9 years ago while living in Marquette, MI I worked with a guy we called
Big Mike. Mike was, obviously, a big
dude, tall, with a mustache, glasses and always with a big smile on his face. <br />
Big Mike loved the Dead, in fact Big Mike loved all music and I owe a
substantial portion of my music collection to him. About once a week Mike would swing into my
studio, we'd talk sports, and music and he would always drop off a stack of
cd's. Take this home he'd say, listen to
them and load the ones you like on your computer. Bring them back whenever you can. <br />
The album that played through my headphones as the wind picked up around Isles
was one that Mike had given me. I put
my head down and made my way along the lake, bent into the wind and remembered
doing this same thing along Lake Superior and coming up on Big Mike out for a
walk. <br />
He was always walking on the path by the lake, his Michigan State hat on,
headphones and carrying his Discman. He
would walk, listen to tunes and stop to pull a small notebook out of his breast
pocket. I asked him once what he wrote
in it and he said 'When I hear a song it makes me think of other songs that I
want to hear so I always write it down and search for them when I get home.' <br />
It's amazing how music can do that, just take you down a path of memories. I crossed the road into a park at the north
end of Isles and started doing hill repeats. <br />
As I approached the bottom of one hill, the song Acadia Driftwood by the Band
came on. I was obsessed with that song
while training for my first marathon in the UP.
That was also my first experience with hill repeats. I would go two streets over, start at the
bottom by Superior and run up High St listening to the Best of the Band. Sometimes I would see Big Mike up there, he
lived in that area. Walking, sometimes
smoking a cigar, either music or the Michigan State game playing through his
headphones.<br />
One day Mike walked in and started to juggle stuff in my studio, he was good,
really good. I was shocked and the next
day he brought in three bags, almost like hacky-sacks, taught me the basics and
left them for me to practice. I never
quite got the hang of it, but Mike used to go to a local nursing home at lunch
and juggle and do magic tricks for the folks there. He would just chat, tell stories, listen and
spend time with them; the guy had a huge heart. <br />
Van Morrison singing Caravan with The Band during the Last Waltz interrupted my
thoughts and labored breathing as I topped a hill. That was another album Big Mike had given me,
one of my top 5 favorite albums of all time.
<br />
I remembered Mike's Blues show he had on one of our stations. He called himself Zenith and the show as
called 'Zenith rides the bus'. After I
had moved to Mpls to work for the Wolves he would send me copies of the show
asking me what I thought and telling me if I liked any of the songs he could
send me the albums. <br />
A few years ago Big Mike passed away, quite suddenly due to cancer. I was shocked. I heard from a friend of mine in Mqt that he
was in the hospital and it wasn't good and then he was gone. <br />
But whenever I hear certain songs, or see the Michigan State logo he's right
there, that big smile on his face excited to introduce me to a new album. </div>
John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-44473840188008047782014-10-09T06:30:00.000-07:002014-10-09T06:30:18.573-07:00That's A Wrap TCM Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
"The strenuous life tastes better"-Williams James<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">"This
is it, no more races this year. I need
to recover after Twin Cities, need to take what I learned this season &
work on stuff. I need an
off-season." <br />
That's what I told Ali the week leading up to the Twin Cities Marathon. I was planning on lacing them up and running
TCM for the 7th straight year but having finished the Superior 100 a month
prior I was looking forward to an off-season.<br />
The past few years I've said the same thing, only to find myself toeing the
line at the Wild Duluth 50K two weeks later, or last year at Surf the Murph
50K. But this year I was serious (and
helped by the fact that Surf the Murph sold out & I won't be in town for
the Wild Duluth) there will be an off-season, one to recover & refocus on
training. <br />
With that in mind, my brother Alex & I headed to the starting line. As usual I expected to run the first mile or
so with him before he pulled away, and I settled into my pace ticking off miles
like a metronome. <br />
But this year I didn't want to just run TCM, I wanted to enjoy it, and leave
proud of my effort. <br />
The gun sounded & off we went, I kept up with Alex down to Hennepin, first
mile in at 8:08, I'm not gonna keep that
up I said to him. We made the turn by
the Sculpture Garden and up the hill together, another decently fast mile but I
could tell he wanted to push it and I wanted to run my race so we parted ways
around mile three. <br />
Alex would go on to crush it, finishing in 3:27 and destroying the last 5.2
miles in around 37 minutes. I never
cease to be amazed by the mental & physical fortitude he can muster up on
race day. 5 times now we've started
marathons together only for him to be waiting for me at the finish line. <br />
I settled into my rhythm around lake of the Isles, but as we made the move
toward Calhoun I didn't feel satisfied with just running along at an easy
clip. Finishing, one month after running
103.3 miles, would be a great accomplishment, but running hard would let me
leave this season on good note mentally and physically.<br />
So I began to push, bit by bit, seeing what I could do. The night before Ali and I talked about the
run and she said 'What if you have a great day?' I said 'We'll meet up with everyone at the
end and have brunch, and if I have a bad day we'll do the same...' But this didn't feel like a bad day, not yet
anyway, so I pushed a little harder. <br />
Weaving in and out of people around Lake Harriet and on to Minnehaha Creek I
kept pushing while trying to remain relaxed.
Oxymoron right? While I pushed, I
also made sure to breathe through my nose, helping to regulate my heart rate
and relax my shoulders so that the effort didn't leave me with a sore
back/neck. <br />
Around mile 10 I got a boost as Ali and Nicole popped out of the crowd cheering
for me. It was totally unexpected since
I thought I had already passed them, and it gave me an extra pep in my step as
I ripped off a 751 mile. <br />
As we turned on to Cedar & around Lake Nokomis, I made sure to keep my foot
on the gas. Not fast, but faster than
felt comfortable. I thought back to a
few years ago when I was running comfortably and at mile 23 decided to see if I
could make it hurt, and pushed as hard as I could over those final 3.2 miles
finishing with my second best marathon time of 332. Would I be able to keep this up and make it
hurt again? I didn't know but I was
determined to try. <br />
Up the hill to Melo Glaze, down to Minnehaha Park, still pushing feeling a bit
spent but knowing I had more in the tank.
Spotting Mitch & his family cheering helped push me on, and then a
mile or so later there was Ali & Nicole, another surprise that propelled me
down to Franklin Bridge.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuVvc0Ok71hpqhh9zBETrFXcC5-uputfhkhxTlYABjqehRG8rxaPq6RgNXiIehxxQlweVXtzMxFC6-WDdbjSXJ0HZV_vuTqmJB1di9G8KbjaxFUoJau76DwJ30-CveZz9JQCXMNVAFFuYW/s1600/run.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuVvc0Ok71hpqhh9zBETrFXcC5-uputfhkhxTlYABjqehRG8rxaPq6RgNXiIehxxQlweVXtzMxFC6-WDdbjSXJ0HZV_vuTqmJB1di9G8KbjaxFUoJau76DwJ30-CveZz9JQCXMNVAFFuYW/s1600/run.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
Rolling hills I told myself as I crossed into St. Paul. Up one down the other then on the up you'll
see Mom, Dad & Gramps, then a steep up to Summit & the long slow Summit
grind before it levels out. <br />
Just like that there they were, but this time the whole crew. Another great surprise, Gramps hopped out of
the crowd ringing his bell, Wolves winter hat askew on his head, and ran a few
steps with me. <br />
That shot me down the road and up to Summit where the good vibes wore off as I
neared Snelling and could feel myself slowing down against my will. <br />
Just make it up here, it levels out, I thought to myself. Next to me I heard two women motivating each
other as well. "Sweat is weakness
leaving the body" one told the other.
"Remember how hard you worked for this, there is nothing like the
finish line" the other responded. <br />
I smiled recalling some of my favorite motivational lines, then put my head
down and pushed to the top where it did flatten out for a bit. <br />
Three miles to go, what have you got left, will it be a good day or bad
day? A lot can happen in three
miles. I've had the wheels fall off
pretty hard with this distance to go. <br />
Head up, shoulders back, relaxed yet pushing.
Two to go, leg it out, this is your last race for the year let it all
go...whoops, that wasn't supposed happen.
Cramp hit my left hamstring hard, stopping me in my tracks. I hobbled to the side of the road, bent over
to stretch it out, loosened just enough for me to try walking. After a few steps the walk turned into a trot
and I was back at it.<br />
The Cathedral appeared on my left, then the finishing chute, push, push, push. Alex was already done I was sure, don't make
him wait too long! <br />
A quick glance at my watch, can I make it across the bridge to the finish line
in 30 seconds? Let's give it a
shot. Pumping my legs while monitoring
my left hammy for the remnants of that cramp; it seems okay. <br />
Missed that 30 second mark which would have put me in at 3:39, instead I
lumbered across in 3:40:17 officially. <br />
And then it was over, not just the race but my running season. I looked along the fence for my family,
finally spotted Alex. He stood there
with his medal hanging from his neck, salt streaks down his face & on his
tights, crooked smile and a bounce in his step.
He had a great day; I had a really good day, both very happy with our
effort. <br />
We met up with the crew, took some pictures, cheers to the season with our free
Summit, and then just like I told Ali, we had brunch. <br />
It was the perfect way to end the running season. Happy with my effort, amazed at the challenges
I took on this summer & grateful to have made it through them all with the
help of great friends & an amazing family. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmOt0E_DFA_-emFdw2-7cjsT2QF6OHqYVAmgrEUf6qSM-ngQ0C7Y072mEKX8K0O1_cCayOAMpzSQVSKgkXSWlVIg75faPcdWdLR9JdR6FY8SHOjQETuoFIeJTRdMR62Y4-vIZGKBmtjkp/s1600/Family.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmOt0E_DFA_-emFdw2-7cjsT2QF6OHqYVAmgrEUf6qSM-ngQ0C7Y072mEKX8K0O1_cCayOAMpzSQVSKgkXSWlVIg75faPcdWdLR9JdR6FY8SHOjQETuoFIeJTRdMR62Y4-vIZGKBmtjkp/s1600/Family.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-7841021977974843992014-09-09T09:22:00.001-07:002014-09-10T11:04:47.459-07:00Superior 100<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBupv2y68pgBewuPHOhFrwIhDWjF4mHqsOPuFPYvlu1vLFLSw0tBXkxofzjGkRDpqk21wrZDseL8Ys1ScluVSP7HZs9vCOAweNFHQOYxvNloY_6FDWUFAVuFCW8Jud4KQkyNlXetwzOlbq/s1600/Superior+100+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBupv2y68pgBewuPHOhFrwIhDWjF4mHqsOPuFPYvlu1vLFLSw0tBXkxofzjGkRDpqk21wrZDseL8Ys1ScluVSP7HZs9vCOAweNFHQOYxvNloY_6FDWUFAVuFCW8Jud4KQkyNlXetwzOlbq/s1600/Superior+100+020.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep-Robert Frost</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Go slow, slow and steady, don't do anything stupid, remember
to eat, to drink, just go slow and don't think about the big picture, just aid
station to aid station...those thoughts were flying through my brain as I lay
in the hotel room in Silver Bay the night before the Superior 100 trying
desperately to fall asleep. <br />
The following day I was going to embark on a journey of 103.3 miles that could
take up to 38 hours (well the time limit was 38 hours, it could take longer I
suppose) that meant moving all day, all night, all day and into the night
again...it was a distance I had never attempted and had no idea what to expect.
<br />
<br />
No amount of planning could put it into perspective, I had gone through the
maps and tried to guess how long each section would take but having only hiked
certain sections, I really had no idea what I would encounter, it was all a
guess, so much uncertainty, would my crew find the aid stations, would the food
I packed be enough, do I have too much, what happens if I twist an ankle, wipe
out, how do people run in the dark, how much will I be able to run...every time I let one question go three more popped up making the night before the start a
restless sleep.<br />
<br />
Finally at 6am my alarm went off, very late for a trail race, normally we are
on the trail by this time but today we had an 8am start and since I was staying
close to the starting line we didn't have to leave super early. A quick shower (lord knows it would be a long
time till my next one) bagel with peanut butter & jelly, Gatorade and next
thing I know Big Tom is calling saying he and Little Sue are downstairs ready
to roll. My older brother Paul, Ali and
I headed down, hydration pack filled with water and snacks, handheld full,
visor, shades, ready to go. When we got
to the lobby there was a couple having breakfast they saw me and asked if I was
running, yes I replied, so is our daughter they said and 'I hope she kicks your
ass' they laughed. I nervously laughed
too, I hope she does too (Turns out Malory was her name and she won the women's
division)</div>
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Off we went, winding down Highway 61 to Gooseberry Falls the
start. We milled with the other runners,
met up with Paige who would be crewing for Aaron, Greg, checked out the falls,
slammed a cup of coffee and next thing I knew it was time to line up. I found a spot in the middle of the pack and
listened to the last minute reminders and then we were off. </div>
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The first 10 miles to the aid station were uneventful,
beautiful trails, some mud from rains earlier in the week and really just
focusing on finding a pace I thought I could hold for a long time. The trail is single track so you end up
getting into these trains of runners which early on was fine with me, the group
I was in had a pace I felt comfortable at and I could just settle in. The first 9.7 miles few by and then we were
headed down a long hill to aid station number one.</div>
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In those first 9.7 miles I had nearly drained my hydration pack & totally killed my handheld, it wasn't a hot day but I was drinking a
ton of fluids for some reason. Plus 10
miles is a long time to go without a fill up but I felt good, having made it
there by 10:20, grabbed some food and headed out walking the long hill back to
the main trail, another 10.3 miles to the next aid station. This stretch was similar to the first, lots
of people around, this time though I got caught in a train that didn't have the
same flow as the first one, I got frustrated with how much walking they were
doing on stuff that was runnable, and it took a while to figure out why, there
was a guy with trekking poles everyone was trying to get by who was slowing
things up, finally along a river we were able to move past him & get the
rhythm back and next thing I knew we rolled into aid station number 2 where I
saw part of my crew for the first time.
Paul and Ali were there, they helped me get water in my bottle and pack
again, both of which were empty, and we chatted while I ate some food and they
said my parents were five miles down the road in Silver Bay & I would see
everyone there. </div>
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Off I went, into the woods again after saying goodbye to
Paul & Ali, things had started to spread out and I found myself running
alone for stretches, occasionally coming across another runner but not stuck in
the crowds of the earlier portions. The
views were amazing and a short time later I made my way to aid station 3.</div>
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It was now nearly 2 in the afternoon and despite eating at
aid stations and while running I was hungry!
The crew was there and I sat for the first time, smashed half a PB&J
bagel, some homemade cookies, fig newtons and slammed half a bottle of naked
juice protein. It was awesome to see
everyone and we laughed at how much food I was eating and they said they'd see
me again at the next aid station. I was
excited because this next portion was one I had hiked and camped before and
knew fairly well, I knew it was challenging but it was beautiful with Bean
& Bear Lakes and I would be heading to Tettegouche one of my favorite state
parks. </div>
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But things weren't so great as I started one of the climbs,
I ate too much and my stomach wasn't happy.
I slowed my pace but the climbs were tough and taking my breath away as
I worked to get up them, things weren't going too well but I thought it's way
too early for the wheels to come off, gotta be a way to pull it together, I
started to focus on my breathing, find a rhythm, slow down more to let my food
digest, finally after what felt like a long time of ups and downs trying to
feel better I hit a runnable section and my body was feeling better so I opened
it up a bit and made it to the next aid station where the whole crew plus Mitch
was. </div>
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It was nearly 5 but I was in great spirits as I ate a little
and chatted with everyone. By this time
Ali realized when I got to a station she would take my pack & bottle right
away to get it filled, Big Tom had the chair out, I would sit while Little Sue
handed me cookies, and Paul and Mitch kept up the convo. It was great, I didn't talk much out there so
seeing people and talking to them was a blast.
We laughed, they gave me a great vibe and then I was off. I wouldn't see them again until mile 51 when
I would pick up Ali to pace me for a bit. </div>
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The next stretch was tough, very challenging and long,
another 8.6 miles, not much runnable if I recall. I just put my head down and only thought
about the next stop, wanted to get there before dark, didn't want to use my
headlamp until I left that aid station.
I rounded a bend and stopped at a cliff, beautiful view of Superior, the
Sawtooth Mountains and then I could hear and see the aid station...it looked
impossibly far away, but as I would find time and time again in this race, the
trail had a way of dropping off quickly and getting you where you needed to go
and after a quad busting descent I popped out on highway 6, the first bit of
pavement I had seen in ages and was rumbling towards aid station just as the
sun went down, making my goal of not having to use my head lamp. </div>
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It was just before 8pm and getting cold and dark as I
left. Tough to hit an aid station and
not see my crew but Paige was there so at least I saw a familiar face and she
did a great job cheering me on. I put on
my jacket and head lamp and headed off into the dark, 7.7 miles till I would
see Team Foke again. </div>
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I attempted to run early on this section but my headlamp
didn't seem bright enough and some of the sections where frightening so I
slowed to a power hike, made my way up to one ridge and saw the most beautiful
sunset ever. The last golden rays were
going down in the west while to the east over the great lake it was reflecting
purple and a near full moon was already in the sky dotted with stars. I paused for a moment before moving on. </div>
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During this section I fell in with a kid named Jeff who was
having a tough time, his stomach had gone south and he was throwing up and
couldn't keep anything down. I lead as
we power hiked and talked our way to the next section, he was attempting this
race alone, no pacers though he had a crew made up of his family. I didn't want to leave him on this stretch as
I was nervous he would have a really hard time getting to the next
station. We talked about everything from
running to baseball to his job as a teacher in Central America and finally we
got to Finland at 10:19 where I am pretty sure he dropped. </div>
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Ali, Alex and Nicole were at Finland in great spirits, first
time I saw Alex & Nicole and it was awesome have all three of them there
and know that from here on out I would have company on the trail. I changed my socks, shoes and shirt, filled
up and off we went, Ali and me into the woods for the next two aid stations.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VeQxMJfCcZ1-lSQuzqM6hps87zckpQsU7RJT9ic144Vh3Zf4XGINHHh2XgzB5lSR5tzKD5wCrEvKdfY0TIXiOUZCtRGx0yHuf3hLXlDY84bdS2UDz0CkHEgGbN-9pign0HEpx0xvbflb/s1600/Superior+100+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VeQxMJfCcZ1-lSQuzqM6hps87zckpQsU7RJT9ic144Vh3Zf4XGINHHh2XgzB5lSR5tzKD5wCrEvKdfY0TIXiOUZCtRGx0yHuf3hLXlDY84bdS2UDz0CkHEgGbN-9pign0HEpx0xvbflb/s1600/Superior+100+014.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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We kept up the steady power hike I had started in the last
section, navigating up and down until hitting Sonju aid station where I was
offered a pancake by the aid station workers.
"Are you for real?" I asked as Ali laughed, a pancake with
maple syrup in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere after moving
for over 58 miles, I couldn't think of anything more perfect! The workers were great; I had some potatoes,
sat for a few minutes, avoiding the warmth of the fire as I read it can be too
tempting to leave. </div>
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We loaded up again and set out for the next stretch still
power hiking at a good clip, mentally feeling good, physically not bad just
focused on the next stop where I would pick up Alex. The previous stretch had been longer than we
anticipated and I got a little frustrated but was able to let it go and once I
knew how many miles to the next stop I could do the math to figure out how much
longer till we go there which helped me pace my hydration and eating. </div>
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We hit Crosby Manitou at 315 in the morning, laughing as we
hiked up the road to Alex and Nicole. We
were behind schedule but they didn't seem to mind just spending the time in the
warmth of the car. Alex hopped out ready
to roll, I got loaded up again with food and the two of us set off. When I picked up Ali she was all coffeeied up
and talking a mile a minute which was great I just focused on hiking and
listening, Alex though was trying to find his stride hiking in the dark and we
moved silently for a while before I finally had to say 'You really should start
talking'...he picked it up from there and the two of us powered through a
really long section of 9.4 miles, power hiking until the sun came up and then
running stretches to make it to Sugar Loaf at 740 in the morning. </div>
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By this time I had been moving for nearly 24 hours, that
last stretch was much longer than I thought and we pushed hard at the end,
maybe a little too hard I thought. I
mentioned that to Alex and we agreed to use this next shorter stretch to hike
hard but recover. The sun was up, we
were in good spirits chatting away just like we do when hiking at the cabin,
having a ton of fun, making each other laugh and planning what I would change
when we go to the next station and picked up my brother Paul. </div>
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At 935 we walked into Creamer Road aid station and I scanned
the faces looking for my crew, everyone was going to be there, Mom & Dad,
Paul, Ali, Nicole, the whole group but I didn't see them, I walked further and
they were nowhere to be found, I turned to Alex, my heart rate picking up, I
couldn't stay here and wait for them, would he be able to take me another leg,
how would we tell them we had come & gone, I tried to find someone with
cell service but no one had any. Alex
told me to sit but there was no chair so I sat on the ground, he said he'd
handle it grabbed me a plate of pancakes and glass of water, I sat eating,
asked Paige if she had seen them but she said no. I tried to calm down and just focus on eating
and what we had to do next and when I looked up there they were rounding the
bend. Had gotten a little lost but they
were there. I switched shoes (the mud
was intense) Paul was ready to roll and Paige told me if we averaged 30 minute
miles the rest of the way we were fine. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had turned the gps function on my watch on during the last
stretch to keep me updated to our progress, Alex & I were averaging about
16-20 minute miles and it was nice to know how close we were getting to the aid
station, Paul and I had 7.1 to the next one and off we went.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was so great to get these sections with everyone,
spending time hiking at night with Ali, sharing those moments, pushing from
night to day with Alex and now Paul, who lives in Portland and traveled back to
help. We talked about everything as you
always do with Paul. As he talked I
drifted back to the times I used to visit him in Madison and always left
feeling like I had spent a weekend with a philosopher, and how visiting him and
his family in Portland felt the same way.
The two of us kept up the power hiking though I was slowing down a bit
as blisters started to hammer the balls of my feet. I told him I needed to lay down & put my
feet up for a few minutes at the next stop to drain the blood from them, he said
he'd hold them up for me and at 1244 we did just that making it to the
Temperance aid station. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By now the crew was like clockwork, Ali did a great job
loading me up with fluids and finding food I was willing to eat (pretty much
nothing but boiled potatoes dipped in salt, pancakes, cliff bars and fig
newtons) Big Tom was helping me with my shoes and socks, Alex, Nicole and Momma
Foke with everything else from glide to sunscreen, bug spray etc. I felt like a race car (albeit a very slow
race car) hitting a pit stop as they changed me out and kept me moving.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwivpaywq_2hmIyGdeWPbQFQGk8Wb8QflDT_ygyR3CJIJFzmqjcdBV1_AXsw5dl4mGjDS6NtVmNfVaG-lh6hVEi82kBoqLRR3f5EM9kDH-cXTyo1MY21r-xm4BV_jdjxGtrH2IvOjPJbE7/s1600/Superior+100+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwivpaywq_2hmIyGdeWPbQFQGk8Wb8QflDT_ygyR3CJIJFzmqjcdBV1_AXsw5dl4mGjDS6NtVmNfVaG-lh6hVEi82kBoqLRR3f5EM9kDH-cXTyo1MY21r-xm4BV_jdjxGtrH2IvOjPJbE7/s1600/Superior+100+019.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaving that aid station I could tell my feet were in a bad
way, huge blisters formed on the balls of my feet making it feel like I was
walking on golf balls. Paul and I had
5.5 miles to go and just over a mile into this section I stepped down and felt
the blisters pop...my socks and shoes were suddenly soaked in blood. I stood for a second the pain just excruciating,
Paul tried to keep my spirits up but this was really painful, every step I took
a rock or root felt like it was going straight through my foot. I cursed, changed my stride and finally went
deep inside myself to let go of it, just let go. Stood for a moment trying to do that and then
we carried on. Gone though were the days
of 20 minute miles, we were now around 22-24 and that was over relatively flat
(for this course) and the wet sections where my foot would slip hurt even
worse. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We made it to mile 90.7 at 3 in the afternoon, I took off my
socks and shoes, a worker looked at my feet and said there was nothing they
could do, she helped me clean them off and my crew got me new socks, loaded me
up but wouldn't let me sit too long and now we were off again, this time Ali
joined Paul and I as we made our way to the next station. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This section brought some dark times, the mud was intense,
my mind was going a little bit, I had been up and moving a long time and was
starting to get spacey. Paul and Ali
talked, kept me moving, Ali making sure I picked up my feet, didn't spiral too
far down a dark path. I didn't talk much
just kept moving trying to block the pain out, focused only on getting to the
next stop. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My spirits came back as I got closer to the aid station, my
buddy Mitch was running the 50 mile race and caught up with us. I just heard a 'JOHN FOCKE!' bellowed from
behind and there he was, just like in the Grand Canyon, with a great
attitude. We chatted for a bit and I was
so excited that he was having such a good race, we joked for a few minutes then
he went ahead for what I hoped was a great finish.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Finally the three of us emerged from the
woods a round of applause from the spectators there waiting for their own
runners. It made me laugh as I gave them
the parade wave I had perfected during last year's Lynx Championship Parade,
raised the roof a little for laughs and then sat down to get loaded up for the
final section. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paul once again decided to stay on, it was quite impressive,
I had him marked down for the 77-90 section but he wanted to go the distance so
the three brothers set out, for the final 7.1 miles and for the first time
since I started I allowed myself think about the end. My feet were like ground beef, every step
painful, any slipping felt like the bottoms were coming right off, I tried to
stay dialed in, I knew we had two climbs and two descents left and then it was
over. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uJ_KzfqmWksuR7x5fN79xa9nYj5w5_LM2LLvJxX31eDgpR0bMiq2sUYyB6i5SGQZ0jvX4nVPny6TDVQbU_Zrujztot4AhNMRhpWOpSxnNg8PddUprkrXB9dSn-kHGcxOgfQLEUvPvws8/s1600/Superior+100+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uJ_KzfqmWksuR7x5fN79xa9nYj5w5_LM2LLvJxX31eDgpR0bMiq2sUYyB6i5SGQZ0jvX4nVPny6TDVQbU_Zrujztot4AhNMRhpWOpSxnNg8PddUprkrXB9dSn-kHGcxOgfQLEUvPvws8/s1600/Superior+100+007.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first climb was a beast, felt like it went straight up
and wouldn't end, Alex was behind me encouraging me to keep going, almost to
the top, but we weren't, every time it looked like we were there the trail
would turn then go straight up again.
Finally it plateaued, there was little spur trail I noticed that looked
like it would give us a pretty good view of the lake and area so I suggested we
check it out. I think Paul and Alex were
shocked that I wanted to add on to this but we went down it and there and I sat
on a tree stump (like the guy in the book Giving Tree Paul said) and the three
of us admired the view before moving on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We meandered around up there for what felt like a long time,
my mind was going to mush; it all looked the same were we going in
circles? No the guys said just keep
moving. I thought I was sort of running
but really it was like a jig I was going because I couldn't stop myself on the
down hills, Paul and Alex were strolling behind me at a leisurely pace while I
felt like we were working pretty hard. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This whole section was really hard, I was slowing way down
as my feet continued to deteriorate but what sticks with me the most was how
awesome it was to be out in the woods with my brothers again. It has been a while since the three of us
went on an adventure and it was just great to have one in front of me, one
behind listening to their conversations while feeling the love and support they
were wrapping me in. At one point as we
moved into the final descent I said 'Guys want to just keep going? I don't know if I want this to end.' They laughed
and kept me moving towards the end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mentally the last stretch was the hardest I just wanted to
be done, people were passing us, my feet hurt worse than I ever imagined and I
wanted it over. Those guys kept telling
me how amazing it was, how happy I should be but all I wanted was to be
done. Then suddenly there it was, just
run through that chute and its over! I
shuffled across the line, saw Ali standing there trying to take a pic, Mom,
Nicole, more familiar faces, a handshake from the race director, a huge chunk
of wood on a string (my medal) handed to me, a long kiss with Ali, it was over,
37 hours and 8 minutes after it started. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtK88wsTqnLYzoF5gJYkKtgjmT3i6zF3EzGAeRZQI9khHa36DmweND0EfoHxutrT_FKB-vWqXQ3fbtOzS1ehqrSo2Y7Cf1BBtONgJk8GjtxyVEXinEfvbQHFsldsdRMGXV4xs04ntSOic/s1600/Superior+100+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtK88wsTqnLYzoF5gJYkKtgjmT3i6zF3EzGAeRZQI9khHa36DmweND0EfoHxutrT_FKB-vWqXQ3fbtOzS1ehqrSo2Y7Cf1BBtONgJk8GjtxyVEXinEfvbQHFsldsdRMGXV4xs04ntSOic/s1600/Superior+100+027.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
People were moving me down from the finish, loud music,
camera flashes, Mitch, Ryan, Dad, all shaking my hand saying congrats, what do
you need, what do you want, they kept asking.
All I wanted was a chair, so I was moved towards one and sat down,
done. I know from the pics I looked
pretty out of it, and trust me I was but there was this amazing feeling at that
moment, to be surrounded by all that love.
All these people who helped get me through it, I felt wrapped in a
cocoon of love, everyone so excited, happy, just what I wanted. I hoped that this would be something that
would get our whole family together for a fun adventure, we would get to spend
a lot of time together not at a holiday but working together, bonding, not
really a vacation but sort of a working vacation. As I sat there, arm wrapped around Ali to
keep from tipping over, watching them all laugh and talk and share stories I
knew it had happened. We had done it,
all of us banding together to get through it.
Yes I crossed the finish line but I never could have done it without
them without all the support from all over the country. Pulling into aid stations to hear them read
text's and messages from family and friends who were following along, calls to
my Gramps who was trying to keep up on it, it nearly overwhelmed me and I
started to feel light headed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I had to lay down, wrapped in a blanket, collect myself. The finish line doctor came over we talked I
was fine, he said just take your time. I
needed food, real food, put on sweats, sweatshirt to ward off the cold and then
we were on our way back to the hotel. I
ate a veggie sandwich, and then just passed out. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next morning Team Foke went to breakfast, we laughed
about tales from the trails and old stories, at different points the table was
in tears laughing so hard at old memories it was the perfect way to end the
weekend and while the buckle, sweatshirt, medal and other finisher prizes are
great what I'll remember most is that breakfast surrounded by so much love and
laughter.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQOtxg0T-2Hg1OQDxsxjsUZNS-D9-2SBjkqJqx4RGuS1WJqFwPHFewHnP6p8ZcxJncDvSuO-77sBqWiPxe6bWUeuT459F_UdkgHApWFDnlB7dLgoTjXoTfqTBV1bwW9dGipZzqur_db66/s1600/Superior+100+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQOtxg0T-2Hg1OQDxsxjsUZNS-D9-2SBjkqJqx4RGuS1WJqFwPHFewHnP6p8ZcxJncDvSuO-77sBqWiPxe6bWUeuT459F_UdkgHApWFDnlB7dLgoTjXoTfqTBV1bwW9dGipZzqur_db66/s1600/Superior+100+023.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-21396872366248356442014-09-02T12:04:00.000-07:002014-09-02T12:04:19.141-07:00Preparation H (hundred miles)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8NrRzt4FIRpGHsBJ2JfMkcIc0D488YDwnc0JVNtdBkreS879zUAnxGaymBB_NUIGyrU43YzYiuPs-y-22TzRl_nLJBPG8GZlbpPhTKxklyS-YZcsCqyXSW2Wvdblk9STo8dVWlfbGR8A/s1600/Summer+14+010+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8NrRzt4FIRpGHsBJ2JfMkcIc0D488YDwnc0JVNtdBkreS879zUAnxGaymBB_NUIGyrU43YzYiuPs-y-22TzRl_nLJBPG8GZlbpPhTKxklyS-YZcsCqyXSW2Wvdblk9STo8dVWlfbGR8A/s1600/Summer+14+010+(3).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best laid plans of mice & men often go astray-Robert Burns</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It's race week. The Superior 100, a foggy goal in the distance
for so long, is finally upon us. The hay
is in the barn so to speak, no more time to cram in training, no more dreaming
about what it will be like, no more planning now it's time to go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I've been asked a lot, "How do you prepare for something like
this??" Best answer I can give is,
I don't know...I've read books, blogs, chatted with people, picked brains,
watched movies & YouTube films but in the end I feel like it comes back to
what a guy I ran part of the Eugene Curnow Marathon told me this year, 'Every
runner is an experiment of one.'</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
With that in mind, I tried my
best to train. Running tired, hitting
Afton to run trails and hills, running in the heat and soup of a Minnesota
summer, running in the cold and rain, also of a Minnesota summer. Running at times I don't usually run, back to
back long runs, walking to and from work to get time on my feet, biking as much
as I can so as to not wear myself out running. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Will it be enough? I don't know I hope so but there's only one
thing I can do at this point, just trust the training. Trust that you are strong enough to finish
what you started. It's not only the
physical training; will my mind be strong enough? When rough times hit, and Lord knows they
will, can I overcome them, embrace it, then let go and move on? Have I trained my mind as much as I've
trained my body? Can the two of them
team up to get me through? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The devil's in the details they
say, with that in mind I've mapped out as much as I can for my crew. Directions to aid stations, rough estimates
of when I'll be there, what I may need at each spot packed into bags, all
labeled, that can be easily transported to the aid stations so I can change
socks, drink Gatorade or crush some dark chocolate espresso beans. My crew has been great, putting up with my
constant emails, talking about this non-stop, allowing me time to train and
finally agreeing to come along for the ride!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Some will run, some will drive,
but they will all be a huge help to me.
It's tough to describe the emotional lift one gets upon exiting the
woods and seeing familiar smiling faces handing you homemade cookies. The lift carries on long after I've dipped
back into the woods; cookie crumbs still on my lips...can't thank you guys
enough for joining up. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So the bags are packed, the
details are done, only thing left to do is run...how do you prepare, are you
prepared, we'll find out!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEoGp5rT_iBKOHok2SnwV36xpRhjlLsylwhTtvKna6z9oxnk0Z49aIHzOVP7mRf7qsw-C8tCx9cpiCBVgTHvB5zU4SA7zlIuUlFLAeu2inMWIHkzpW2cO6-n61ifqmBbcgFXUCRWRjjc-O/s1600/Superior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEoGp5rT_iBKOHok2SnwV36xpRhjlLsylwhTtvKna6z9oxnk0Z49aIHzOVP7mRf7qsw-C8tCx9cpiCBVgTHvB5zU4SA7zlIuUlFLAeu2inMWIHkzpW2cO6-n61ifqmBbcgFXUCRWRjjc-O/s1600/Superior.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-80152954659971486022014-08-17T06:39:00.000-07:002014-08-17T06:39:04.281-07:00They said...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk09z_GRL-9RgVJzwjsZGMs-FJMoCBOhvDWFdvGNKF5E1xscBRn-xZGdhagG5VuoehuIqejLJNSTd-4ZCiuL350yFfoRwrIAL9N9DgARG_ALcWXynHyVZCkyqHGHydifiLwH1dUQWJp1e1/s1600/IMG_2582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk09z_GRL-9RgVJzwjsZGMs-FJMoCBOhvDWFdvGNKF5E1xscBRn-xZGdhagG5VuoehuIqejLJNSTd-4ZCiuL350yFfoRwrIAL9N9DgARG_ALcWXynHyVZCkyqHGHydifiLwH1dUQWJp1e1/s1600/IMG_2582.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
They said you weren't built to run marathons...so you ran 10
of them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They said to stick with half-marathons...so you started
running 50K's.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They said, that's enough...so you started running 50 mile
races. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They said stay home...so you went to Patagonia and ran a
63k, and 8days later ran Twin Cities Marathon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They said you need a rest...so two weeks after that you ran
a 55K.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They said you shouldn't go from the rim to the river and
back in one day at the Grand Canyon...so you guys went from rim to rim to rim
in one day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They said you can't run 100 miles....</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
They haven't been right yet...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFH5EPBBadaa3vBFeGyYdQSHu6ydZ5bjy7RUr04JbhvSsaqluAxm5QPs_8jDGs-PrBGYJQOyjnBlwUBQrCcCWd10Wl1QGTagQ8SF1O6Xr0C63UNwyWm98pwQgXhpK_ZEC0YR5Ukh8egh_z/s1600/Superior+100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFH5EPBBadaa3vBFeGyYdQSHu6ydZ5bjy7RUr04JbhvSsaqluAxm5QPs_8jDGs-PrBGYJQOyjnBlwUBQrCcCWd10Wl1QGTagQ8SF1O6Xr0C63UNwyWm98pwQgXhpK_ZEC0YR5Ukh8egh_z/s1600/Superior+100.jpg" height="118" width="320" /></a></div>
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-71568479350149206192014-08-09T12:17:00.003-07:002014-08-09T12:17:46.878-07:00Learning Lessons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5nl4RNg2DxM6GtVV9UggNMNBdnryCfpyMtqLYlU8mjYGkbAff4JvSI8mMPdBAork9xMK4oDGjYRdz6OjoBWoSF_gTLmBKBlWHp8_cDQ1m91oED0iScNCxvQAqUXdoQztGsTh9bbQNmDk/s1600/IMG_2328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5nl4RNg2DxM6GtVV9UggNMNBdnryCfpyMtqLYlU8mjYGkbAff4JvSI8mMPdBAork9xMK4oDGjYRdz6OjoBWoSF_gTLmBKBlWHp8_cDQ1m91oED0iScNCxvQAqUXdoQztGsTh9bbQNmDk/s1600/IMG_2328.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">There's a great line from one of my favorite documentaries 180 Degrees South that says 'It's not an adventure until something goes wrong.' </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">This summer, training for the Superior 100, running has been going very good.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Not getting all the races or mileage that I hoped for at the beginning of the season, but I've stayed healthy, put in some good, challenging runs and overall was feeling pretty confident. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">But then I headed to Afton a few weeks back and suddenly things changed.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">The night before I headed out for what I hoped to be a really long day on my feet running trails I was searching for motivation.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">I was tired, mentally and physically, been on and off the road a lot and wasn't too far removed from running a trail marathon. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">On my commute home from a game that night I tried to figure out what I wanted to do, run for miles or time, what route should I take, do I have to stop at a store to load up on stuff?</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">When I got home I hadn't answered those questions, and when I got up and started packing they were still just hanging there, I'll figure it out I thought. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Threw my hydration pack in my car, my handheld, a pack of shot blocks, gel and some Nunn, made a fruit/protein smoothie for later that I put in my cooler and headed out, still unsure of what that days goal would be...on the drive I enjoyed a cup of coffee, listened to the new Trampled by Turtles album, felt the warm sun and thought 'This will be a great day' but that feeling never really took over, there was doubt in the back of my mind, though I wasn't sure why. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">I never stopped to pick up any food, thinking the bagel I had for breakfast would be enough, as I parked and grabbed my stuff the sun was already glaring down on me, the first few miles down to the creek & back up to the prairie felt really hot and humid.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">I made a mental note to drink more fluids then realized I didn't have my salt tabs, add another mistake to the list. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">First few miles went great despite the heat, and then as I climbed to the campground I started to get hungry, ate a gel, drank more water, but the heat was taking its toll.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">My shirt was soaked, shorts followed suit, visor was dripping.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Foolishly I thought I had figured out how to stay hydrated, I mean I had run the Grand Canyon earlier this year I knew what I was doing! </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">And I did...until I didn't.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">In the Canyon we took tons of precautions to make sure we had enough water/electrolytes, food etc.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">On a little run in Afton I didn't have those things, sure I had enough water, but I didn't have the salt tabs, I was behind in hydration & there was no catching up, I felt it more on the long, flat stretch that came next, a small stone in my shoe started to make me mad, I was frustrated, mentally I was starting to lose it, I was only 13 miles in when I stopped to get the stone out & realized my day might be done.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Trying to regroup I hiked the Meat Grinder hill, dropped into the snowshoe trails, the shaded single track usually gets me fired up and focused,</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">but all I could think about was the hole in my sock my big toe was sticking out of and how hungry I was. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Made it back to my car, mile 16 the midway point, feeling depleted and spent.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">I opened the cooler and chugged the smoothie I had made, it went down but didn't settle easily.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">I spent a few minutes in the shade trying to regroup; I was in great shape what the heck was going on?? </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">After a few minutes I shuffled back to the trailhead hoping that smoothie would replenish me and things would turn around soon.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">They didn't, I power hiked to the top of a hill and hit the meadow, no shade, sun now hammering me, and the tall grass made it humid, no wind to speak of, drinking water and Nunn practically every other step I realized today was not my day.</span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">It was humbling, I got to a patch of shade, looked at my watch, 18 miles, if I turned around I'd be at 20 when I got back to my car, not the day I planned but then again I hadn't planned well at all. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Shuffling back through the meadow cramps began to crop up in my quads just above my knee.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Not what I needed, feet suddenly felt like ground beef in my soaking wet shoes. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Just before a big downhill I stopped and sat on a bench, cramps moved up and down through my calves, I could see them just below the surface pulsating.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">As I stood up to get moving I got stung by a bee, are you kidding me??</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">A string of expletives exploded from my mouth, I just wanted this to be over. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">A day that started with such promise ended with me laying on a picnic table in the shade by my car, completely humbled, maybe the Superior 100 was not such a good idea, maybe I should take up golf, can't believe I burned a day off for this terrible run...frustration and exhaustion feeding off each other as I wallowed in self-pity. </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">But that's where it ended, as the line from another one of my favorite movies Big Lebowski says 'Sometimes you eat the bar and sometimes the bar eats you.'</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Today the bar ate me, chewed me up and spit me out, but it wasn't the trails fault, it was my fault.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">I didn't plan well, I was arrogant thinking I could just breeze through it, a day like this was coming as I got comfortable with my runs & thought I was smarter and tougher than the trail....as much as days like this suck, they are a great reminder to respect the trail and distance every time you step out the door.</span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">My muscles were shot, body more sore than it had been in months as the cramps has just wreaked havoc, I limped around the rest of the day working out what went wrong, what could I control and fix for next time? </span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">The next day I was back out running, not fast, not smooth, but moving, working out the kinks and planning my next big run, mentally and physically working to bounce back. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; text-align: center;">Not every day can be a great day, bad days happen but if you plan better and run smarter a bad day can be mitigated to a not so good day, it doesn't have to become a train wreck. </span></div>
<br />John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-5125767940541185022014-07-14T15:46:00.000-07:002014-07-14T15:46:34.844-07:00Planes Trains Automobiles & Feet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>"The strenuous life tastes better" William James</i></div>
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This story starts like many others, with an alarm clock
going off way earlier than should be allowed...this time the fog horn sounded
in my hotel room in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Heck of a way to start off the first full day of my 34th year on this
earth, and it was going to be a long day. <br />
Quick shower, finish packing, bus to the airport...all 31 bags accounted for
and checked, quick breakfast of a veggie bagel sandwich, load onto the plane,
nap, wake up in St. Louis. Off one plane
on to another, immediately fall asleep, wake up, still on the ground...hour
flight delay waiting for a storm to move through the Twin Cities, finally plane
takes off, crash again, wake up in Mpls.
One journey down, another about to begin... <br />
I stood on the platform waiting for the train to take me from terminal two to
terminal one, going over the events of the upcoming afternoon, it was noon now,
drive to Target Center, drop off my equipment, then home to trade my work
travel stuff for my running travel stuff, with the flight delay I was already
an hour behind. <br />
Train to my car to Target Center & home its only 1pm, quick cup of coffee
(first of the day) by 130 back on the road this time headed 100miles south to
Albert Lea. I started my career in
Albert Lea in August of 2002 and worked there until 2006, learned so much there
and made so many great relationships that it will always hold a special place
in my heart. I was headed back for the
first time in at least 3-4 years to host their Sports Hall Of Fame
banquet. An honor bestowed upon me after
the long time host Orrie Jirele passed away unexpectedly last fall. Orrie was going to be inducted into the Hall
this year and I felt blessed to be a part of it, and knew I had some big shoes
to fill as he was loved by the community. <br />
Made it to the Lea in time to meet up with Bob Hamburg, one of the nicest men I've
ever met, we chatted for a half hour-45 minutes then it was over to the radio
station where I started to meet up with June another one of my favorite
people. When I was working there June was
my second mother and has always stayed that way to me, can't express how much I
appreciated her help when I was down there. <br />
We chatted until about 5 then it was over to the Golf Course for the
banquet...at this time I realized I had not eaten since the first airport,
nearly 12 hours ago! <br />
Got to catch up with so many old friends from Albert Lea prior to and during
dinner it was great to hear stories of what their kids are up to and relive old
games. I heard many stories about Orrie,
how he filled every day with as much as he could, how he took time to be part
of so many people's lives and how he inspired and continues to inspire people. <br />
The banquet was great, fun to see so many people come back to the community and
hear their stories, games played, teammates played with and how important it
all is to them. We wrapped up at 9pm and
after saying goodbye to another one of my favorites and close friends Andy
Dyrdal (who I rented a room from during my time in Albert Lea) it was time to
hit the road. <br />
Back on 35, this time headed north, quick stop at Subway to smash a foot-long
as there wasn't a vegetarian option at the dinner, then on to St. Paul, swapped
cars with Ali, she took over the driving and just like that we on our way to Duluth.
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Greg, Mitch, Ryan and their families were well ahead of us and probably already
in bed by the time Ali and I started north, it was going to be an early wakeup call
again...We made it to Indian Point campground at 130am, pitched the tent and
crashed around 2, only to have the fog horn sound rouse me at 440 (hey sleeping
in compared to yesterday!) Quickly I pounded a bagel, put on my running gear
and then Ali and I headed to Munger Inn to meet the guys. </div>
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We were running the Eugene Curnow Marathon, a 26.2 mile point to point trail
race starting in Duluth and finishing around Carlton. Ali dropped us off and then went back to the
tent to crash, the four of us stood around catching up, hadn't really seen the
guys since the Grand Canyon and then after a quick race brief we were on our
way. </div>
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Greg and Ryan took off, while Mitch and I fell into our routine, running at the
same pace chatting the whole time.
Laughing, remembering tales from the Grand Canyon, marveling at the
views as we climbed Spirit Mountain overlooking the city and the Big Lake. <br />
There had been pretty heavy rainfall the night before and the trails were muddy
with a lot of standing water in places.
We tried to dodge it best we could but then just gave in and embraced
wet shoes...<br />
Scampering up hills, sliding back down, laughing the whole way, mud covering
our legs and shoes, splashing across freezing streams went Mitch and I as the
sun began to climb. <br />
Eventually we made our way to the dreaded power lines, a series of steep descents
followed by steeper ascents, made all the more difficult as they had been
turned into mudslides by the rain. <br />
First one we got to I took one step and landed on my backside, Mitch was ahead
surfing down trying to keep his balance while I slid down pretty much on the seat
of my shorts. If going down was
challenging then going back up felt impossible, we struggled to get footing,
down on all fours, slipping and sliding on the mud until finally able to gain
some ground. <br />
Laughing the whole way we made to the St Louis River that was roaring with the
recent rains. Mitch and I stopped to
watch the rapids before crossing the bridge for the final three miles. At this point I got a hop in my step and
couldn't contain the joy I had at flying over this technical trail. Mitch waved me ahead and I took off like a
colt, hopping up logs and small hills, floating over the rocks and roots, mind
totally in tune with my body, pushing a little faster, a little faster, what do
I have left? </div>
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<br />
Finally hit the black top and blasted up to the finish spotting Ali, Greg,
Brit, Meredith, Ryan and all the kids at the end, a great way to end a great
race. <br />
Mitch followed shortly after, they all took off back to the cities but Ali and
I were in Duluth another night, we hit canal park, got a great meal, saw a
beautiful sunset and finally sleep called for my eyes and I dropped off under
the Super Moon. <br />
The next day Ali and I got up and headed back to the trails, we hit Jarrows
Beach (had to show Ali how miserable it was) then climbed Ely's peak for the
views of Superior in all spending 3 hours out on the trails before heading back
to the cities. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Weekend wasn't done yet, had to ring in 34 with the family and help Big Tom
celebrate 67 with an amazing meal and great company of Gramps, Uncle Johnny,
Momma Foke, Alex, and Nicole. As I
dropped Ali off she said I know I always have a good weekend with you because I
am totally exhausted, I told her you can count me among the many inspired by
Orrie, fill each day to the brim!</div>
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-44412670448558433572014-07-08T12:02:00.000-07:002014-07-08T12:02:22.961-07:0033 And Counting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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To travel, hopefully, is a better thing than to arrive-Robert Louis Stevenson<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I get ready to move into my 34th year on this earth, I
found some time to look back on the past 12 months that made up 33...<br />
I turned 33 in Indianapolis, on the road trip with the MN Lynx. We got to Indy and were told we had to meet
in the Coach's room for film and that we (the support staff) were to be there
too as there was an issue with the baggage we were responsible for. I showed up ready to throw the skycap guys
under the bus for taking so long but it turned out they had a cake for me and
sang happy birthday, a much better surprise than getting yelled at for the
baggage being slow.<br />
Later that month my buddy Cano came into town from Florida, we headed up to
Duluth and ran the Voyageur 50 mile race, running through 48 degree temps and
pouring rain for at least 8 of the 12+ hours we were out there. Covered in mud, sliding down the power line
trails, on our hands and knees trying to get back up the other side, it was a
trip and one of the most fun races I have run.
During it I remember thinking, I wish this would never end, I don't want
to go back to a normal life, I love being out here tasked with just moving from
one place to another under my own power.
It was a beautiful thing being a part of nature and really just being,
no phones or internet, people pulling you in different directions like at work
just moving and focused on one thing and doing it to the best of my ability. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Earlier that year I had become an ambassador for the Patagonia International
Marathon, in September I flew to Chile and spent 10 days on my own in Santiago,
Punta Arenas and Torres Del Paine. I got
to see places I never thought I would, met some great people, learned a lot
about an area I didn't know much about and fell in love with the landscape
there. The whole trip was amazing,
learning how to communicate without being able to speak the language, and
listening. Really having to listen to
what people were saying to decipher something, rather than listening distractedly
like we do here. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
8 days after the Patagonia 63K, I made it home to run the Twin Cities marathon
with my bro (or at least start it with Alex and run the 1st mile before he took
off)<br />
Not sure how I got my body to point where it was able to do that, but I just
dialed in and was able to summon a focus I didn't know I had and plow through
26.2 miles from Mpls to St. Paul in under four hours and then head into work
game one of the WNBA Finals. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
And the Finals...Lynx swept through the playoffs capturing another WNBA Title
and Alan and I got to be a part of it, riding in the parade (and getting
confused looks from all the spectators 'who are they??' haha) and hosting the
trophy presentation was amazing, the energy of the crowd and being on stage
like that was a blast. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
A week later Sparky came to town and we blasted up to the Cabin, his first
visit and now he's hooked (and how couldn't you be, it's the greatest place on
earth) the following week I met up with Mitch and we ran the Surf the Murph
55K, starting in the dark and running by headlamp for an hour or so, my 3rd
marathon + distance in 5 weeks...the following day I met Ali and remember her
asking me about running the 63K in Patagonia she said 'Will you ever run
another ultra?' to which I replied 'I did one yesterday...' haha</div>
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<br />
Wolves season started and I started to ski, pounded out the Double Loppet in
January-February, 26.2mi City of Lakes Ski Loppet one weekend followed by the
Mora Vasa Loppet with Matt (35K) the following weekend then up to Gunflint with
Johnny, Ted and Stephen. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Throughout this time Mitch, Greg and I were planning our trip to the Grand
Canyon to run the Rim to Rim to Rim, a 46mile run from the south rim of the
canyon to the north and back...what an adventure that was. To prepare Greg and I ran the Trail Mix 50K in April, then we flew out May 1st, ran May 2nd and then Ali
and I spent another 7 days touring the Southwest, seeing the red rock of
Sedona, the canyon lands of Zion and southern Utah and then back to the Grand
Canyon to hike down to the river and back up
in one day. </div>
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<br />
The WNBA season started upon my return from the Southwest and I found myself
tagging along with the team for their trip to the White House to be honored for
their Championship, and getting to see Paul, Adrianna and Lil B out in Seattle.
<br />
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<br />
Along the way, Big Tom and Little Sue both retired, Alex made it through his
first season at Hamline and Paul and his family came for Thanksgiving, a very
fun and eventful year...can't wait for 34...<br />
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<br /></div>
John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-7705591586766254602014-05-19T16:24:00.000-07:002014-05-19T16:24:49.947-07:00Running vs Racing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJSEwsog3-DqYTYV2YmJ2oi__n8TcyrBUt2ONXxMvB78Kfuh8VdUr3daBj_dsNMhe6F_rs6CR94c3qGPOhL8Y3rwP1GjDfsmxzJPBZqFosVGqjWnxqeAP2NfoZIIPJqkap7_sDMrw6zYb/s1600/Running.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJSEwsog3-DqYTYV2YmJ2oi__n8TcyrBUt2ONXxMvB78Kfuh8VdUr3daBj_dsNMhe6F_rs6CR94c3qGPOhL8Y3rwP1GjDfsmxzJPBZqFosVGqjWnxqeAP2NfoZIIPJqkap7_sDMrw6zYb/s1600/Running.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Ever
since I started running ultra-marathon's I have really struggled with the
concept of racing...when I first got into this sport all I wanted to do was go
fast. See if I could beat my times,
those of my friends or brothers, and during races pick out people who looked
fitter than I was to beat. <br />
But that competitive mindset doesn't really suit me, beating those people or
times never really made my race feel better, or gave me a sense of
accomplishment that lasted. <br />
Moving to Ultra's allowed my mindset to shift from trying to beat the course
and the other runners, to trying to survive in a sense. How far could I push my body, my mind? What is the breaking point? It became less and less about them and more
and more about me. <br />
I learned about myself, what worked, what didn't...what my limits were, and how
I could extend them. As my Dad, Big Tom,
always says when he comes to see me finish, 'It's not a race, it's a run.' And for me it was. It's a race in the sense that there is going
to be a winner, but when you're pushing yourself through 50 miles of trails and
hills in the pouring rain for over 12 hours, it becomes much less of a race and
more a run, an experience. <br />
I also don't go into Ultra's with a mindset of winning, or placing or
anything. I go in with zero expectations except to finish. When I was starting out and
racing 5-10K's, Triathlon's, even marathons, I would always check the results
right away to see where I placed in my division, how many people I passed and
so on. Now I just check my time at the
end and say 'Hmm better than last year' or 'Hmm worse than last year' or 'Damn
I'm glad that's over.'<br />
But this past Sunday I actually gave myself a chance to race as I took part in
the City-Trail Loppet, a 10-mile race combining paved stretches and trails
around Minneapolis which ended at the Sculpture Garden. <br />
Waking up that morning I was tired from a long week of work and travel, being
just over two weeks removed from running the Grand Canyon rim to rim to rim,
and just had the general soreness that accompanies someone who sits too much at
their job. <br />
Ali and I arrived at the starting line and I had no idea what to expect, would
I even be able to make it the full 10 miles or would I have to slow way down
due to the variety of things cropping up in my legs/feet. <br />
Ali was running the 10K so she had to wait a half hour for her start, as the
horn sounded to signal the start of my race, I tried to settle in, letting the
first mile or so work out the kinks. <br />
I found a decent rhythm and some people who had a good pace I decided to hang
with, slowly my legs working free of their knots. <br />
Turning off the paved road onto the trails, got my juices flowing, letting my
body flow over the rocks and roots, up the small hills, and down I felt my
mindset shift from run to race. My watch
beeped after the first mile, 7:27, not a bad start; let's see what I can do. <br />
It became tough to keep that pace as we moved into the single track and things
got bogged down but whenever I saw an opening I would shoot past a few people
to try and gain some ground. <br />
Three miles in as I weaved around and over downed trees, still holding a steady
pace, pushing myself when there was an opportunity. <br />
Over railroad tracks, under bridges, along a dock that spans a lake and into
familiar territory, knowing the terrain I decided to push even harder,
attacking the downhill's, flowing over the rocks and roots, picking off runners
in front of me, the goal becoming 'If I pass them they can't pass me back.'<br />
Pounding across 394 and dropping down to Brownie lake, a route I have done a
million times, over to the Cedar Lake Trail and into the woods towards Hidden
Beach, catch the guy in front of you, move past, spot the next one, reel them in,
pass, breathing heavy now, get behind a runner to slow the heart rate down for
a minute or two, then pass and push.
Keep pushing. <br />
We crossed under 394 and the end was close, less than a half a mile, push
through some single track up a short hill, breath in short bursts, catch a guy
in the 10K, pass him, keep him behind you, push harder now that you're on the
pavement.<br />
Entering the Sculpture Garden I was pushing pretty hard, turned the corner and
ran through the finish line as the PA announcer mispronounced my name. <br />
1:19:38, passed 21 people, got passed by 1, 44th out of 258, nothing
spectacular but it wasn't about time, it was about mindset. I could have taken it easy on myself. It had been a long week, not much sleep due
to travel and stress of starting a season, but I chose to push and never let
up. Very happy and proud of the effort,
it wasn't expected but I find that often times the ones we surprise the most
are ourselves.</span>John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3168234176964083758.post-29511785578096867212014-05-12T18:59:00.000-07:002014-05-12T18:59:03.853-07:00R2R2R<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvMCLim8ZXKdbhXLx7tHZn_yCLYVUeICD84tPmVCs0AUzIOGJIAzwDgne5hE3lpJ7SqvDz2VAmUYtjKsVOGivNxt3a6mEGjftdyfUh9TuN1Z_fh9W6-1OpMwq97LibBCEVr9ViLUab8qM7/s1600/Southwest+Tour+037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvMCLim8ZXKdbhXLx7tHZn_yCLYVUeICD84tPmVCs0AUzIOGJIAzwDgne5hE3lpJ7SqvDz2VAmUYtjKsVOGivNxt3a6mEGjftdyfUh9TuN1Z_fh9W6-1OpMwq97LibBCEVr9ViLUab8qM7/s1600/Southwest+Tour+037.JPG" height="160" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
The task ahead of you is never greater than the strength within you-<br />
<br />
<br />
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Waiting for my alarm to go off,
that's what I was doing instead of sleeping that morning. After a night of tossing and turning, running
over the logistics and the glimpses we had seen of the Canyon that afternoon, I
was keyed up. Nervous, excited, but mostly
just trying to prepare my mind for the unknown, not knowing what we might
stumble upon the next day and trying to make sure I was mentally prepared for
whatever.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Finally it went off and we all
got up, Greg, Mitch and I have known each other for a long time. Mitch and I went to grade school and high
school together while I met Greg in 6th grade playing football and we also went
the same high school. Both those guys,
along with myself, had a number of Ultra marathons under their belts, but none
of us had attempted a self-supported run like this, across the Grand Canyon to
the North Rim and back again, a grand total of around 45 miles and 21,000 feet
of elevation change. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In the hotel room we loaded our
hydration packs with water, food, sunscreen, gels, and tape for blisters
whatever we could fit in there that wouldn't make them too heavy and then we
headed out. It was chilly and dark as we
arrived at the visitor's center and hopped on the first shuttle of the
day. At the back was another group,
dressed somewhat similar to us, who were attempting the R2R2R but they were
doing more of a fast-pack hike, not a run.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We chatted with them at the trail
head, and then dropped into the inky black of the canyon, following the bob of
our headlamps as we skipped over the awkwardly placed logs that dot the first
set of switchbacks down South Kaibab trail.
The darkness was complete, wrapping us in it and swallowing the light of
our headlamps but the path was wide enough that we had plenty of room to
maneuver as we made our way down to the first landmark, Cedar Ridge.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Here the sun was just making its
way above the Northeast Rim of the canyon and we stopped to gauge its progress
before moving on, following the light of our lamps another mile or so we
stopped at O'Neill's butte to shed our jackets as the sun had already risen enough
to warm our skin. Jackets and headlamps
put away we followed the ridge along the butte to Skeleton point where Mitch
realized he had cell service and gave his wife a call to say we were on our
way. The service didn't last long (as
would be a running theme throughout this adventure) and we were off, winding
down switchbacks on the side of this mesa.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After a series of long
switchbacks we rounded a huge plateau and caught a glimpse of the Colorado River
far below. Its bright green color
standing out in contrast to the dark brown rock it flowed through. From here we looked up to see where we had
come from but couldn't even see the top of the canyon due to the number of
buttes and mesas we had passed that now loomed large blocking our view. We left the viewpoint and ran into the sun
for a few minutes before dipping once again into a series of switchbacks that
led down to the river. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFILva9my-BwjzW59YViv9nJAmXfJGWWlx7IHSFPe-xNwsCYJSiq033gFjEM-Rj-7EP4OuZ7i9b7hmKbtdxKb_BTjNqBUbLjfm3S-Bby4m7B2W4Vw7PYDEXbzsAWz_Wt1i7b345aUazi3/s1600/Southwest+Tour+329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFILva9my-BwjzW59YViv9nJAmXfJGWWlx7IHSFPe-xNwsCYJSiq033gFjEM-Rj-7EP4OuZ7i9b7hmKbtdxKb_BTjNqBUbLjfm3S-Bby4m7B2W4Vw7PYDEXbzsAWz_Wt1i7b345aUazi3/s1600/Southwest+Tour+329.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Greg had gotten ahead of Mitch
and me as he ran down the switchbacks and was waiting at the river when we arrived;
we passed through a short, dark tunnel and on the other side were standing on
the suspension bridge, the Colorado passing strongly beneath our feet. We walked across, jaws dropping as we took in
the scene around us. The river still
bright green, the walls of the canyon rising up, a beautiful white sandy beach,
the colors of the upper canyon walls as the sun hit them, it was almost too
much to process. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
From there we made it to Phantom
Ranch, everyone feeling good and refilled with water and some snacks. I had tried to send a text before we took off
but it wouldn't go through so at Phantom I tried to make a phone call to let
everyone know we were off and well but the phone was not working so we just
loaded our packs and took off for the longest stretch without a landmark of the
run. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
From Phantom Ranch to Cottonwood
Campground it's about 7.5 miles, from the map we had been using it looked very
runnable. We moved into what is known as
the box, a tight canyon with walls stretching straight up and tight curves that
wrap around Bright Angel Creek. Greg set
a good pace out from Phantom, it was too quick for me this early in the run so
I dropped back, taking photos and trying to find my rhythm after 7 miles pretty
much downhill. The path, which looked
relatively flat on our maps was actually at a gradual incline and had a number
of rolling hills. After trying to run
hard the first few miles we all fell into a routine of running what we could
and then power hiking up the hills to save our energy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The Box would eventually open up
as the canyon walls moved back from the river and the sun began to shine
down. We were still in the shade but you
could tell this next stretch was going to be hot on the way back. The sky was so blue it was dizzying to look
at, the sun hitting the red rock walls of the canyon made it look like it was
on fire in certain spots and we plodded on, chatting and listening to the sound
of the creek moving down toward the Colorado. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At Cottonwood we stopped to fill
our water and ran into a couple from Breckenridge, Colorado. They were out backcountry camping and we
shared a quick snack with them before we headed out to our next water stop, the
Pumphouse.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We crossed what looked like an
old railroad bridge to get to the pump house, by now the sun was shining
brighter and hotter, as we stopped in the shady yard of the Pumphouse Mitch sat
down and said 'Guys I'm beat.' He looked
gassed too; the heat and the fact that from Phantom we had climbed nearly 2,000
feet had taken its toll. Greg and I
waited while he took in fluids and ate some food, and then the three of us
formulated a plan for the next 5 miles to the North Rim. We would power hike it, as it was too steep
for us to run, and use it as recovery time.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When Mitch was ready we leaned
into the climb and within a mile or so he was back, faced down the darkness and
came back stronger than before, it was really impressive. We climbed and climbed, the walls of the
canyon looked like layer cake. Each
layer a different color, some of the rock had been around for nearly a billion
years and each era clearly marked by the line of rock, each a different
color. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
As we climbed to the North Rim, I
began to not feel great. A belly full of
water, climbing nearly 6,000 feet, sun beating down and despite the beauty
surrounding me I wasn't enjoying it at the moment. I stopped off in a shaded area and took down
a gel, sat for a few minutes to get my breathing under control, turned on the
Grateful Dead in my headphones (which were attached to my pack not in my ears)
and then began to feel better as I leaned once more into the climb. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I caught up with Mitch and Greg
and the three of us got some great news from some hikers we passed. The Park Service had turned on the water at
the North Rim, something we hadn't been expecting. It allowed us to stop trying to ration our
fluids and take down as much as we wanted during the climb knowing that we
could refill there and not have to wait until we got back to the Pumphouse. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Eventually the red rock and
scraggly trees gave way to white rock and Ponderosa Pines and looking up I
could finally see sky behind the trees not more trees and then we were at the
North Rim. We met some people up there,
chatted for a bit, and took some time to make sure we had all the fluids and
food we needed, but didn't spend much time there. The bugs were really bad, and the trees so
tall there was nothing really to see. I
drank two bottles of Nunn water, refilled my pack and ate some food realizing
that after nearly 8 hours of running we were not quite halfway done. Our trip out was 21 miles, while the trip
back up Bright Angel was 24 miles, but the climb out of the Canyon was less
steep and featured water stops nearly every 1.5 miles. We decided that Greg would run ahead at his
own pace and hopefully get back in time to catch the shuttle to our car, and
Mitch and I would stick together to get to the end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Greg took off and then it was my
turn...I love running downhill's, just attack them, trying to let my body flow
over the trail, trusting my eyes to see obstacles and my feet to act on them
and roll down like water to the bottom.
As I got ready to drop in I felt like a snowboarder must at the top of a
half-pipe, a smile on my face ready, excitement tingling through my body. Off I went, eyes scanning the ground a few
feet in front of me, legs hopping over logs and stones, mind totally clear and
focused only on what I was doing, totally in the flow, whipping through the
switchbacks, feeling free and unleashed for the first time during the run. I would stop at a few major landmarks and
wait in the shade for Mitch, the adrenaline coursing through my veins until it
was time to jump down the trail again. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
What took us over 3 hours to go
up took just over an hour to go down and suddenly Mitch and I were back at the
Pumphouse. We filled up with water, sat
on the benches and chatted a bit before embarking for Cottonwood, the sun was
at its peak now and the canyon was hot, we made it to Cottonwood, filled up
again and realized the next 7 plus miles were going to be a challenge. Neither of us was real good in the heat and
considering it had been above 60 twice in the past 9 months in MN, running in
temps nearing 90 degrees was going to be difficult. We headed out, I turned on Wilco's Kicking
Television on my headphones and we made the best of it. </div>
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Stopping in the shade of rocks
and trees when we could find it, but basically just moving as best we
could. I got out in front as I kept
attacking the downhill's, using them as momentum to propel me further and
eventually waited for Mitch at the start of the Box. Here there was solid shade but we had been
running for a while and I was getting low on water. We headed out and I took off, hoping that I
could make it to Phantom Ranch before I went dry, but the walls of the box kept
popping up, one after the other and it was like being caught in a maze. Sometimes it would open up and I could see
the South Rim, thinking I must be getting close to the river but then I would
turn a corner and bam, another canyon wall.
Finally I was totally out of water and my running was reduced to a walk
as frustration began to build. I tried
to keep the darkness at bay but with each turn, another wall and without water
I was losing the battle. </div>
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Finally I made it to Phantom
Ranch, ran into a guy we had been leapfrogging with all day, he said Greg was
doing great and had passed him a while back.
I sat down, in need of fluids and food, hoping that Mitch would come
along soon in good spirits to pick me up.
I finally got the phone down there to work and called home to tell my
parents that it was going to take a while longer than we had anticipated. I sat back down and drained two more bottles
of Nunn, some almonds, a cracker or two and for the first time in the run felt
exhausted. We had been at it for nearly
13 hours at this point and that last stretch left me feeling really
depleted. I turned to Mitch and said 'I
think I can get us a room here...' Mitch looked at me and said 'If we sleep
here, there is no way I am gonna be able to walk out tomorrow.'<br />
I agreed and we got up and began to walk out of Phantom Ranch. </div>
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Everyone we met there was so
nice, offering food to us, wanting to hear all about it and as we shuffled out
of there a whole group cheered us on, it was really touching. We followed Bright Angel creek to the bridge
and crossed over as the Canyon walls began to block out the sun. I was trying to take in more food and fluids
on this stretch to get caught up and it was nice to just walk along a somewhat
flat path that followed the Colorado while Mitch kept up a steady stream of
conversation behind me. We eventually
passed the ranger station at the river and turned to head up the slot canyon
that Bright Angel trail followed, my body pretty shot, just picking up one foot
and putting the other down, moving and nothing else. Mitch asked at one point 'Do you want to keep
talking or just focus?' Just focus I said and he replied 'Wow never thought I
would see the day when John Focke didn't want to talk' we laughed but I had to
just keep moving and taking in fluids at that point. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimhFo8E2VbK2gXm9hLmto666mJd0Fnj7dkJLNJu8i-Y6w18MvoAfZcL5odHNSkqFnGTnoTh-fNnIxW369ZX_83lmtgihHf8Haz1XfLgxj_Q5VkaLoZPWMMlwh8mFQL0rv0UaJs0gAxsxJN/s1600/Southwest+Tour+134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimhFo8E2VbK2gXm9hLmto666mJd0Fnj7dkJLNJu8i-Y6w18MvoAfZcL5odHNSkqFnGTnoTh-fNnIxW369ZX_83lmtgihHf8Haz1XfLgxj_Q5VkaLoZPWMMlwh8mFQL0rv0UaJs0gAxsxJN/s1600/Southwest+Tour+134.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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The sun went down and we took our
headlamps out, following the beams along the switchbacks as we began to
climb. The stars were amazing, the silence
total, it seemed like Mitch and I were the only ones out there, chatting,
looking up from time to time only to see nothing but darkness then stars,
knowing that darkness was what we had to climb.
We made it to Indian Garden and ran into some folks we had seen before;
they offered advice and said we were doing great. We filled up and headed out, now looking up
we could see a string of lights moving down through the darkness...people
starting their hikes at 10pm as we moved to finish ours.</div>
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Past three mile rest house, then
to 1 1/2 mile rest house, my feet feeling like ground beef as rocks punch up
into the bottoms of them. Knowing we
were close but also realizing that a mile and a half of this was nothing like a
mile and a half we were used to. One
foot in front of the other, a chilly wind whipped up, forcing us to put our
coats back on, stopping on rocks to rest.
Literally falling onto them as our quads were so shot we couldn't lower
ourselves down. Through one short
tunnel, not knowing how many more there would be, then finally a long
switchback brought us around so that wall was on our right and I knew we were
close. One more tunnel and then there it
was the end. We walked up and out of the
canyon, to nothing. No fanfare, just a
few security lights on, we stopped our watches, high fived and then went to
find Greg. He had been following our
headlamps progress from the South Rim and when he saw us said 'Man it's good to
see you guys' we felt the same way.</div>
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18 hours and 53 minutes for Mitch
and I, Greg made it in around 16 hours, the next morning we were moving slow,
really slow but we had all made it and were in good shape outside of moving at
the speed of smell. Can't thank Mitch
enough for keeping me moving at Phantom Ranch and having such a great attitude
when I needed him on the climb and for Greg for blasting through and getting
the car so we could pile in and head straight back to the hotel. It was a team effort and we had a great team,
can't wait for the next adventure.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAby5Z7SumiNy_Y2LX7jP97E-J86EDYwVsONdaxuWWBnHzYsSIXmu33R1NH9wF7qhMiLjWRmR1i8M5WN7xPPkrNCxgKerQbYzYo-g_g-atTOoZTSvpPmEfVZBvZXBJlsIAr_OewuJxZkUV/s1600/Southwest+Tour+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAby5Z7SumiNy_Y2LX7jP97E-J86EDYwVsONdaxuWWBnHzYsSIXmu33R1NH9wF7qhMiLjWRmR1i8M5WN7xPPkrNCxgKerQbYzYo-g_g-atTOoZTSvpPmEfVZBvZXBJlsIAr_OewuJxZkUV/s1600/Southwest+Tour+040.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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John Fockehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04260534867087949091noreply@blogger.com2