Leadville Training Camp -- Night Run

Driving back into Leadville yesterday (Monday) evening as the sun was setting with the top down and singing along to Thunder Road (RIP Big Man), I knew I'd made the right decision to head back up for the last event of the training camp -- the night run from Twin Lakes to the Tree Line crewing area. 

The night was sublime.  Even though there were dozens of runners participating, we spread out quickly, and I spent almost the entire run utterly by myself on that mountain trail.  It was definitely a new and memorable experience for me:  the quiet of the night, the explosion of stars and visible bands of the Milky Way, the crisp air, the dancing shadows, the peaceful solitude...  I'm actually looking forward to running that section of the trail again during the race itself, even though that will happen around mile 60.

Before last night, the only other night run I'd ever done was a few months ago when Tim was visiting Fort Collins with his kids over their spring break. 

Side note:  I live in both Fort Collins and Denver, and I split my time between the two.  I'm up in Fort Collins every weekend, from Friday until Monday morning (or Sunday night), where I live with my kids (my 18-yr-old daughter Savannah is currently in Melbourne, Australia for a few months enjoying Australia's liberal drinking age (18), and my 17-yr-old daughter Michal is a senior at Ft. Collins HS and just informed me that "blogging is for narcissistic d-bags") and my ex-wife (no, it's not weird; we've been sharing the house for four years, but we've been divorced for 13 years, and it works great).  During the weekdays, I stay in a small apartment in downtown Denver because I work downtown, and there are few things more frustrating to me than the I-25 commute.

Anyway, when Tim was visiting back in April, the only time we could sneak in a long run was after he put his kids to bed.  So, we took off one night around 10pm and ran through the night along the trails between Fort Collins and Loveland (Blue Sky, Indian Summer, Devil's Backbone, Rimrock and the aptly named Coyote Ridge, on which we actually heard coyotes on the ridge howling back and forth).  That run was a milestone for me not just because it was my first night run, but also because it was pretty long (seven hours or so).  Back in April, I'd only just become somewhat accustomed to 20+ mile runs, so I was glad I was physically able to put in the distance that night with Tim.  Now, fortunately I'm able to get in a couple 20 to 30 mile runs almost every week, usually up in Fort Collins (or Rocky Mountain Nat'l Park) back-to-back on Saturday and Sunday. 

The best part of my weekend runs is the moral support I get from my kids.  Typically, when I return home after a long run -- dirty, sweaty, salt-stained and completely exhausted, but feeling a sense of accomplishment that occasionally, I'm sorry to admit, swells into self-satisfaction -- Savannah will immediately burst my pride-bubble by sarcastically congratulating me, "Wow, Dad, you ran almost one quarter of the actual distance you'll need to cover in your race!  Great job!"  Then, Michal will scrutinize my haggardness and earnestly encourage me to increase my life insurance before August. 

Actually, that may not be a bad idea.