Travel

Gratitude — I try to recognize it each day as it happens.

Things I’ve been thankful for recently:

• The woman above me chooses to leave on her heat  — which heats 2/3 of my apartment — while we are both gone.
• Last week’s winter storm disintegrating before reaching Casper, so I could drive to Colorado and fly home for Thanksgiving.
• Parents who drive to the airport late at night (midnight) and early in the morning (3 a.m.).
• A strong, healthy  body to run 3 miles through the woods and mud.
• Laughter, especially about things that don’t matter.
• Enough weekend to share with family, friends and  several hometown restaurants.
• Friends who offer to babysit me while I test Four Loko.
• My sister drove from Illinois to Colorado so she could be my Trader Joes mule and haul back almond butter and wine I couldn’t take on the plane.
• A cozy bed in Fort Collins to nap for a few hours before heading back to Wyoming.
• A Saturday shift so I didn’t have to go to work on Monday with only a couple hours of sleep.
• Two business days this week to get my bills/life in order.

Cleaning the carcass with my uncle in my mom’s kitchen, home of many thankful moments.

Tomorrow it’s back to work — another thing for which I’m constantly grateful.

I have a hard time getting back to the grind when I miss a weekday. No matter how relaxing the time away, I feel like I always miss something, have to play catch-up.

Which explains why I finally unpacked and am posting about last weekend tonight (got back Monday).

Last weekend was wonderful. Josh flew into Casper on Friday night and we drove to Jackson on Saturday morning. We shopped, ate, shopped more, warmed up in the heated pool, hiked, ate, hiked again and ate a couple more times.

It’s been unseasonably warm, in the 50s and 60s. Jackson is in off-season mode until Thanksgiving, which meant we got a killer rate on a four-star hotel and ate very well for very little.

We arrived in time to see the Capitol Christmas Tree leave Bridger-Teton National Forest and begin its 20-day trek to D.C. [Nov. 6]

The timing really was perfect — right after an election week, warm, off-season, dry weather for driving — except the road to Jenny Lake was closed for between-season maintenance. We thought about renting bikes for the 8 mile trek, but the rental shop was closed.

We settled for a 1.6 mile trail to Taggart Lake. A little more than a mile in, we met some moose on the trail — seven to be exact.

Yes, we were this close. [Nov. 7]

I was a little nervous. I’d heard stories about angry moose and I didn’t want to take my chances. But, when you travel with a photographer, running from beautiful wildlife set against the background of the Tetons is not an option — at least not at first.

After a few minutes, we walked toward the lake only to be stopped by a bull who had been eating further down the path.

He stared at us. We stared at him. And then we turned around.

Now we were surrounded by the herd. So we stayed and took more pictures. Eventually, they moved south of the trail. The last two — two large bulls — walked right in front of us and locked antlers. We swore they paused at one point to look at us. This wasn’t their first show.

We finished the hike and made it to the lake before there were too many late-morning ripples.

Quiet. Beautiful. [Nov. 7]

We refueled over a large brunch at homey Cafe Genevieve. With the Sunday New York Times covering most of the table and jazz oozing from the ceiling, I felt like I was brunching in New Orleans.

We passed on the bottomless mimosas (which we wouldn’t have done in New Orleans) because we had another hike planned west of where the road was closed. The afternoon hike wasn’t as eventful as the first but full of scenery and sounds of nature.

Another perk of the off-season: Few tourists in the park and none visible on the trails. For a few hours, the Tetons belonged to us.

Back in grad school a few years ago, three of my girlfriends and I realized we wouldn’t be together forever or for much longer. We decided the best way to guarantee regular reunions every couple of years was to get together for each of our 30th birthdays and do something special.

One of us had the first birthday earlier this month (wasn’t me!) and we made plans to meet up in California where Andy lives. The weekend included some of my favorite things: wine, running, ocean time, laughter and food.

Pacific Ocean in Half Moon Bay. [Oct. 29, 2010]

Andy had to work, so Cat, Sarah and I toured parts of San Francisco on foot on Friday: Chinatown, Union Square, Fisherman’s Wharf. Then we drove north to wine country and had the most amazing dinner at ZuZu in Napa.

On Saturday, we drove further north to Bothe-Napa Valley State Park for a 10K/half/marathon race. We heard the Napa Wine Country race was tough, but we were not prepared for 2 straight miles of hills, narrow muddy trails and jumping from rock to rock across small streams.

Crossing a creek in Bothe-Napa Valley State Park. [Oct. 30, 2010]

The race was small (300 runners) and fun. The views from the top and smells while running past coastal redwoods were worth the pain felt in our quads the next day.

Napa Wine Country. Pictures can’t do it justice. [Oct. 30, 2010]

We soaked in hot springs in Calistoga, ate a huge lunch and stopped at a few wineries to taste bottles we can’t afford to purchase. Andy met us at our last tasting at Jessup Cellars (thanks – you guys were awesome) and we finally had a birthday dinner.

Sun-day stroll in Sausalito. [Oct. 31, 2010]

On the way back to San Francisco, we stopped in Sausalito for lunch a walk in the sunshine. We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge for a driving tour of the city before my flight home.

Before I knew it, it was time to leave, back to Wyoming, work, the election, etc. But the short weekend was just what I needed before a busy week.

Late review of the fantastic Rock n Roll Denver half/marathon.

Running past Denver Union Station early in the race.

The course started and ended in Civic Park so we could walk from our hotel to the race and back in minutes. Perfect weather — 60s and sunny — and the course was designed so only a few miles were run facing the morning sun.

The only goal I had for my first half was to finish. This time, I wanted to finish the 13.1 miles in 2:10, or a few seconds under 10 minutes each mile. I hadn’t trained enough to do it easily.

I met up with Buck, a former Star-Tribune sports guy and fellow native Illinoisan. We ran the first 3 miles through downtown Denver together before my shoelaces came untied and I decided it would be better to slow it down a little bit.

The sun came out after about four miles.

I maintained a 10-minute mile fairly easily until the 10th and 11th miles, when my hips started hurting. I estimate I slowed to a 10:30/11-minute pace, walking and stretching. At the 11-mile mark, I realized how close I was and picked up the pace.

I remember seeing the 12-mile marker and thinking, “Wow, it’s almost over already?” In this delusional, tired state, I thought I might sign up for a full marathon.

The course was mostly flat, ending with two downhill miles.

I finished in 2:11:53 — about a 10 minute mile pace and 20 minutes faster than Seattle. After a quick stretch, I refueled, walked back to the hotel, took an ice bath and showered. I made it back in time to see my mom cross the finish line.

I would run Denver again. The course was fun and varied. The bands actually played during the race, unlike in Seattle. My only complaint was that they put the bag check tables right next to the port-o-potties so long lines backed into the bag check area. My mom wanted some water before the race, but we had no clue where that stuff was. There were so many people we wouldn’t have been able to get there had we known.

Surprisingly, we all felt good the night and day after the race. My knees felt fine but hips were a little tight. I took it easy. They hurt about halfway through a slow 3 mile jog so I decided not to run until a 10K on Oct. 30 (more on that later).

Oh, and that strong desire to run a marathon — it went away once I stopped running and ate something.

After the Seattle half marathon, I experienced a bout of the post-race blues.

Finishing my first half marathon (and raising a ton of money for cancer) were two tangible goals and reaching them took hard work. I looked forward to the race for months and after I flew back to Wyoming, I didn’t have as much to look forward to.

I got over it, fast. I put running on the back burner, averaging 12 miles/week. I traveled. I entertained. I hiked. I enjoyed Wyoming while it was warm.

Then I started to make fall plans — plans for after Oct. 1 when my vacation days reset. I had planned to go to Rochester for my college homecoming weekend. But as the date approached, logistics of flying to western New York in the middle of October set in. I had to fly out of Casper because if it snowed, I wouldn’t be able to make it to Denver — doubling the cost of the plane ticket and limited the times I could fly in and out.

Then my mom called — she and my dad were flying to Colorado that weekend for my sister’s family/alumni weekend. I haven’t seen them in months and the odds don’t look good for going home for the holidays (again). So I decided to save vacation days and money by weekending in Denver instead.

The first Rock n Roll Denver marathon happened to be the same weekend. I proposed the idea of a family half marathon and my mom and sister said yes. Eventually, my dad signed up too.

I trained much like the first half, running small distances (3-5 miles) twice a week with a longer run on the weekends.
My mom followed a walking plan but got a serious cold that lasted the whole week leading up to the race. My sister vowed to run, but that fell through when she got busy and later got sick. And my dad signed up too late to commit to anything serious.

Our expectations were pretty low. My mom thought she’d probably be hauled off the course before she finished.

pre-race smiles in the port-o-potty line.

But we all made it — on our own time, without injury and feeling accomplished. I shaved 20 minutes off my time in Seattle. Dad was able to run a little bit, despite bad knees. Much to her surprise, my sister finished in under 3 hours.

After I finished, I ran back to the hotel to shower and change and made it back in time to see my mom cross the finish line. I was so proud of her and my dad and sister for doing something they never thought they would do.

My brother got out of running this one because of work, but I have a feeling another family race is in the future.