Leaning into the Fall (in all senses)

  A quick trip to Utah on the second weekend of September was my next step to move forward, only a day after spreading ashes of Stephen atop of Pikes Peak. I got to boss around some really wonderful women in our quest to help our badass dearest friend (my for 22+ years) Ronda in her pursuit of a 100 mile finish # 42 at Wasatch 100M, as well as apply my "professional" technique of alternating sergeant drills and love words while pacing her the last 30 miles (or so). We had extreme heat, a warm night, more heat, moving this crazy woman through the field, picking up a crapload of carnage in the second half, unplanned detours, tears and laughter, stern commitment to our runner, utilizing her skills, multiplied by ours, "slight" disasters on every side of the spectrum, motorcycle rides near the end by "some", and still a spectacular finish by Ronda in 8th place female overall (at a not very advantageous age, which makes it especially prideful moment). This all-women team kicked butt and took names like we meant it. It was really good for my soul to feel useful, loved, and give more love back. You are a sum of the people you surround yourself with.

I came home, pretended to put one more week of training, celebrated 33 years in America, and Larry and I's 17th weddine anniversary, and signed up for Aravaipa's Flagstaff Sky Peaks 50M, a race with over 8200 ft of climb (some of which are straight up the ski lift slope), and running above 9000 ft of elevation. The race was a swang song for the 2026 race season. It's been a good go this year - until it wasn't. Since my body rejected the idea of a 100 miler 2 weeks after Stephen died, while the argument could be "It wasn't meant due to certain events in my life", lets be honest, it is my 7th body lean (in various distances), starting as far back as Ram Party 55M in 2022. This time it came fierce, and soon I was falling off the side slope under the gravity, with 35M to go. There's still no "real" research on the cause of it, just speculations (none of which satisfy my medical/science background), which makes it more difficult to accept - and fight. Back to Sky Peaks. The races that "did" happen this year, as few as I chose to get to the start line of, went really well, and the closing hooray wasn't bad either. The course turned out to be sneaky brutal, more so than on "paper"/in RD video, plus my technical single track skills are shit as I age (between losing depth perception and agility, and a fear of a serious injury/surgery I simply don't have time for), and of course there were problems that always show up. I put my head down, did all the things, Larry was a golden crew at 3 AS's, and without my knowing, I pulled into a 3rd place (apparently halfway in, no idea about it until some dude told me 42 miles in, and I tripped/hit the ground from being surprised). I was upset that my goal time slipped away, as did the dinner time I was eager for, and that the last bit of the race was very crappy (everyone was swearing) after already a climb nearly as bad as at the start. So, no smile at the finish line, just "Let's get out of here". It was still a very pretty course at high altitude with foliage in full display, and I highly recommend it. Right now, I am just happy my season ended on a better note than DNF at SJS100, even if life stays somber. I'm ready for a hard reset, and without a single goal race for the upcoming year, I have a clean sheet of paper to play with. That's a first for me, maybe it'll do me good. 

The life kept moving fast. The following weekend I flew to Portland, and got to spend a couple fo days with my older son, Alex. It was the most of the time we had in the last many years that was productive, coherent, civil, and very touching in so many ways. It filled my hert. That's all I am going to say here. 

And right next to that was MY BIRTHDAY!!! 57 is a new whatever! My birthday week falls smack in the middle of Fall (pun), and it always has the best weather of the season, plus the peak of leaf peeping. I'm fortunate like that - while it seems like everyone claims "Autumn is my favorite season", I have a legitimate reason to love it more. I take full advantage of owning this week. No presents, give me mountains. It's a tradition to celebrate the date itself atop of a new (to me) peak. Larry and I chose West Spanish peak at 13,584 this year, and it didn't disappoint. The aspens were legitimately on fire in this far-away, rural part of Colorado, rarely visited by tourists, and uniquely beautiful. 

We also got to see Mueller State Park in full yellow display, and then I chased what's left of the color on the NW side of Pikes peak. Then, a couple of days later - in one swift motion - the change of seasons had arrived for real.

October is a month to ground myself after a season of training and racing. I run without a plan, keeping the base mileage going, lifting a little more seriously, and trying to focus on slowly losing a hefty flab I always tend to put on by now - this year, it's been directed by all the sadness, disordered eating, and traveling so much in the last 2 months. I'm in no hurry, I don't have an event to fit into a dress for (I don't even own a dress). Aging does show its teeth, though, the lower back (with its spondylolisthesis) hurts more, the meniscus-less knee shoots pain bouts noticeably, and I desperately want to sleep through the night more often than twice a week. Yet, when my sister pleads to me to "act my age and slow down", all I can say is - fat chance for this to happen. I intend to keep going regardless, adapting on the fly.