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.

Wolf Creek Pass - Cumbres Pass on the CDT FKT

Below is what I submitted for an FKT page. Last year, after Rainbow trail FKT, I thought that even 2 days/2 nights effort is getting hard on my body, and that I want to do backpacking in a more benign way. This seemed to be an easy backing out plan, my final foray into the "push with a pack" hoopla, and after getting it down, I would agree that I am done. The backpacking trips with Larry have been much more relaxed:) While I don't mind hiking for 16+ hours, I would love to be able to "chose" the place I camp, do it in a daylight, and cook a meal. Which is why my beginning of solo backpacking adventures were so much more appealing - I still did big days of 30+ miles, but stopped before the sunset and ate hot Ramen (a pinnacle of my dinners, ha!). Anyway, so many thoughts, rambling here will have to end. My son's death had changed so much in my head - and accepting ageing, the fact that I no longer have not only the physical strength/recovery, but more importantly the desire in breaking myself and force things without a real reason, has gotten a little easier. It's still a battle of what I was vs what I am becoming, but at a lesser intensity.

Some photos, with a link to full album below at the end of the report (for some reason they uploaded in backwards order, FYI). Link to FKT page

Stats: start Friday 9/4/26 at 5:33 am (per Coros/Strava); end 9/5/26 at 15:12 (or 3:12 pm) - for total time of 1 day 9 hrs 39 min.

Preambula: a year ago my husband Larry and I backpacked CDT section NoBo out of Wolf creek pass. I came home and thought: there must be an FKT around there. Bookmarked this one for the following year for this particular weekend, fitting it between my 100M race and a commitment to pace a friend. However, life added a twist: my younger son passed away exactly 5 weeks ago, and a week prior to this attempt I put him to rest...I decided to follow through, for some time away in the mountains, doing hard things. There was not an FKT on this route until, literally, a week before I set out - and I briefly considered going through the night as well. However, I also didn't feel like this was the right time for me to push my body, given the circumstances. I went SoBo (as described on the page originally, but alas, I agree, it probably should be a variation in the future). 

Light version: this is the MOST frustrating experience I've ever had on the trails in terms of navigation, including trail maintenance, need to use apps on the phone, constantly disappearance of the trails (here is a trench - here is not, or lots of blow downs, and by the time you get around, you have no clue where the trail gets picked up), etc. The consistent need of having a phone in hands, alternating between CalTopo and CoTrex apps, took a good number of minutes, adding into probably an hour plus of total time. In addition, I am old(ish) and at 57 see pretty much nothing without reading glasses (get them out, take them off). Plus, CoTrex loads the signal dot very fast, but not very accurately, while CalTopo is super on point, but takes up to a minute to upload GPS. Standing in place figuring out if I am still on/close to the trail was infuriating, and I definitely angrily sometimes took a good 15 minutes hiking without one - which resulted in getting off trail for some bits, and then making best how to get back (worst on day 1 mile 30, after bushwhacking and managing to miss a split, I got off not only main trail, but even the wrong one, and for the life of me wasn't sure where to go, so I pointed the "dot" and, quite literally, scaled a rock/tree wall - my husband did the math and it was exactly same mileage, with more vert gain, and an extra 40 min bonus time). Similarly, this big extra happened at mile 16 on day 2. As well as plenty of walking back and forth, around the "block", and detours for different reasons on the trail.

Anyway, the weather was perfect. Clouds for most of day 1, though sunny and hot on day 2, but no rain, chilly mid-30's at night. FYI, between dry winter/summer this year, and it being late in the season, neither the first 27 miles, nor the last 28 miles (sans 3 miles before the end) had reliable running water sources, and I got by on 2 liters each of those stretches (do not recommend, but I had done it before). The middle part runs along the creek, then crosses a few more. Cows (and their patties) are everywhere, just as bow hunters (elk season). As I said, navigation wasn't fun and took any joy out - instead of looking around, I stared down at my phone. The views of the mountains are awesome, but the beetle kill on the trees takes a mood dump. I stopped on the first day at 11 pm on the flat spot before a climb, at "my" 44 miles, and, while I don't sleep in the tent (between insomnia and being old), I call it "horizontal time", which my body appreciates nowadays. I took my sweet time getting ready (despite not sleeping), and got out on the trail around 4:50-ish. Again, with aging, hiking in full darkness is less appealing, but it took just 1.5 hrs for my favorite time - sunrise. Loved the meandering high country. Ran out of water with 3 miles to go (already was nursing it), then slammed my head under the tree and put a gash on it (head, not tree). Seeing my husband at the end of the trail cheering me on is always a highlight of the effort - I am forever grateful for his support, especially in these trial times. I also carried a bit of ashes of my son the whole time.

Link to photoalbum: https://photos.app.goo.gl/YFRti4ryA2eVoAGU9

Tuesday, September 8th, was 40 days since Stephen is gone. In my culture, it's the day his soul is going to heaven 🙏🕊️, so I took some of his ashes (that I carried on the CDT) to spread from the top of the Pikes peak. Sprinkling his stardust in a high place that means so much to me, with views all around, is hopefully the beginning of the closure. Life will never be the same. I hope the healing process will begin. Grateful for Larry's help with this task - it was important for me to get to Tava on foot at least some of the way up, and it's a work day. Offered Goddess Tava some serious blood, appropriately. Granite rock is unforgiving. Praying that God is.