Cold.  The only way to describe mornings at camp hale. With the fog lifting off the lake the only sound you could hear was the wrestling of sub-zero sleeping bags and the unzipping of tents.  The shear vertical climb awaiting each competitor today was enough reason for the morning silence.

I unrolled my ankle high wool socks that had been doubled back to cover my feet twice over, and headed for the hot breakfast tent.  I managed to squeeze a place next to the outdoor gas heaters and with fellow New York City trail enthusiasts.  Mary, the ring leader is an 8 year veteran of transrockies and hands down the kindest person in all 5 boroughs (and probably planet earth).  Mary is attempting back to back transrockies this year (transrockies Colorado and transrockies Canada), not only is she the smile I see on the Hudson River trail on most morning commutes to work, but she doubles as a bad-ass who earns every step on these trails.

With breakfast under my belt and some NYC encouragement for my “reckless downhill descents” we toed the line for a day of racing on a course with all the bells and whistles.  On deck for today, 14.5 miles and 2800 ft of elevation gain.  The first mile was a climb up the dirt road out of camp hale. With all the 3 stage competitors out of the race the lead pack was slim.  We rounded the corner for a 1 mile downhill before cutting onto the trail for the steepest climbs of the entire race. With 5 miles to the summit, it was time to strap in and get to work.

Alaska Chad and Yoann pushed the pace as Caleb and I kept them within eyesight, for good measure of course (it had nothing to with my burning quads and the altitude).  We climbed. Again.  Caleb setting the pace and myself attempting to keep the panting to a minimum.  And then things got ugly.  3 miles into the climb the vertical slope of the mountain was such that I could lean-in and kiss the rock in front of me. And so, power hiking ensued.  This power hiking rivaled the version of an “ugly cry”.  Sweat everywhere, drool running down the side of my mouth, mucous consuming my upper lip.  The wind speed of my breath launched it into the face of the mountain as it lost lip real estate. So basically, a Kodak moment worthy of a new Facebook profile picture.

At mile 7 we crested the mountain and were rewarded with a run along the ridge line with no hindrance of any kind to allow all the sky and all the earth to seep into my fingers as I stretched them out to the sides, as if to grab this ephemeral beauty.  Instantaneously the temporary pain subsides, and you are reminded why you put one foot in front of the other, on this day, and on all the days, no matter the speed of that step.  As all five foot ten inches of me kicked up dust on the trail, perspective was granted and a gratefulness towards the scale of wonder this earth provides without asking anything in return.  My mind wanders……this world could use more selfless service, this world could use more “work horses”,  this world could use more love.  (Yes, I got all that from 30 seconds of running on a mountain top, so GET OUTSIDE)

Taking in the last view of mount holy cross, it was time to let the legs run rampant as I started the equally steep decent.  Allowing my speed to become reckless, I flirted with a face plant into the on-coming boulders for several miles.  Typical.

With 3 miles left it was time to run through the river, a river that I believe is fed directly from the North Pole, considering my feet felt more like numbs after 5 seconds of being submerged.  As I stumbled the next 3/4 mile through the water, imitating Bambi’s first steps, I came upon Yoann who didn’t seem to be “loving” this part of the course.  He was quick to note my New York river training was up to par (the Hudson has served me well).

We exited the river, and off Yoann went as we descended the last 2 miles on the dirt road to the finish.  Met with a taco buffet in the sleep town of red cliff, two stages are left, and they entail a more than 9000 ft of climbing.  Yikes, my sea level legs are shaking.  Time take refuge at camp hale.