Half Full of Thanks

On New Year’s Eve, my brother Drew and his wife Simone decided to sign up for the Thanksgiving Point Half Marathon in order to increase their chances of sticking to their resolution to get in shape. Honestly, when I heard that they’d registered for this event I was a little skeptical. It takes some determined training to get ready for a half marathon and I wasn’t sure if they had it in them. But any chance for them to chicken out clucked away with a click of our mouse. At the end of February, we, along with our friend Jeremy, added our own names to the registration list thus making it impossible for Drew and Simone to back out gracefully…and simultaneously impossible for us to retreat without disgrace.

We did most of our longer training runs with Andrew and Simone. The many miles go faster with some chatter.
We did most of our longer training runs with Andrew and Simone. The many miles go faster with some chatter.

While the largeness of our group convinced us that this race would be a winner, Jason and I had some apprehensions about finishing it as losers. Since the event was so early in the spring, we were a little concerned that the weather would inhibit our ability to prepare for it properly. Just train indoors you say? Are you aware that jogging 10 miles around a track would require roughly 70 laps and would likely be about as exciting as listening to an insurance policy manual on tape? I think I’ll pass but if you like extreme monotony by all means give that revolving tedium a whirl. As it turns out, for us, no worry over weather was warranted. Our outdoor workouts ended up working out. Sure, we had to dash in rain, snow and frost but we also got to sprint in some pretty darn perfect conditions. Jason and I stuck to our training regimen like filthy flies on fresh poop. We ran 4X a week with an extended session every Saturday. At the peak of our training, this totaled to 24 miles per week. Admittedly, it was a little tiring donning our tennis shoes for those distances but the main problem with our program was actually the time involved. Extra-long runs take an extra-long time. Our perseverance and sacrifice paid off though. We were ready and confident come race day.

No, my enthusiasm did not last but my legs did.
No, my enthusiasm did not last but my legs did.

This half marathon stays entirely on the Thanksgiving Point property. From paths around their tranquil gardens to trails on their swanky golf course, you’d be hard-pressed to find a prettier run. However, being pretty has a price. Usually that drawback is narcissism or an expensive shopping habit but, in this case, it’s hills. The half marathon routes we’ve done before have primarily descended but this one makes you struggle up for every step it lets you ease down. Talk about an incline infestation!

Spring flowers created a landscape of color all around us runners.
Spring flowers created a landscape of color all around us runners.

This course may have its ups and downs but the weather while we scurried along it was solely an upper. The conditions were ideal! Unlike my last half marathon, which ended with dehydration followed by puking, I did not overheat. I wised up after that experience and carried a water bottle with me this time to encourage liquid uptake; the pleasant temperatures did the rest. Barf really doesn’t make the best trophy; sure it’s showy but it kind of stinks.

At the nine mile point, the path went up a giant hill. Ugh! I wasn't the only one that struggled up that incline; I noticed two vomit puddles on its slopes.
At the nine mile point, the path went up a giant hill. Ugh! I wasn’t the only one that struggled up that incline; I noticed two vomit puddles on its slope.

I completed the race after 2 hours and 25 minutes. This beat my former time of two and a half hours and met my goal. I was pleased with myself and very proud of all the other runners in our group. Jason crossed the finish line at 1 hour and 47 minutes. His objective was to finish in less than 2 hours and he definitely succeeded. Drew and Jeremy came in only 6 seconds apart right around 2 hours and 13 minutes. And Simone was about 10 minutes behind me. Way to go everyone!

Jason's exuberant thumb reflected the quickness of his run.
Jason’s exuberant thumb reflected the quickness of his run.
From these pictures it's apparent that I was zoned out through most of the race. Hey, when you have over 13 miles to conquer Rachel Land ain't a bad place to be.
From these pictures it’s apparent that I was zoned out through most of the race. Hey, when you have over 13 miles to conquer Rachel Land ain’t a bad place to be.

I don’t know if it was the race’s many hilly miles or just my body’s many years of miles but the rest of the day, following the event, my hips and knees were pretty sore. It hurt to sit and it hurt not to sit so my options for avoiding pain were pretty limited. Jason fared no better. In fact, he suffered like a fussy baby without a binky and almost cried as much. My thigh muscles may have been grumpy about going down stairs for a few days but Jason’s calves reportedly felt like they were going to rip in half. I guess, considering his finishing time, he earned the right to be a little whiney. (And yes, in case you’re wondering, my calves are much tougher than his.)

Jason leaped like a gazelle as he neared the finish line. I don't know how he had bounds of energy left.
Jason leaped like a gazelle as he neared the finish line. I don’t know how he had bounds of energy left.
My finish was much less dramatic than Jason's...and considerably slower.
My finish was much less dramatic than Jason’s…and considerably slower.

My ankle, as my physical therapist predicted, handled this whole affair, including the prep workouts, pretty well. It would hurt after my lengthier runs and swell a little but it didn’t declare all-out war; I was satisfied with that precarious truce. Yeah for ankles that tolerate and can be tolerated!

I was proud of everyone in our group. Their diligence paid off.
I was proud of everyone in our group. Their diligence paid off.

The Thanksgiving Point Half Marathon was a great experience. I’m glad Drew and Simone initiated our participation with their hasty resolution. The race was lovely, though horizontally challenged, and our training for it went according to plan. Our large troupe provided added motivation and entertaining running buddies. Yup, misery really does like company even if that company is prone to dispense harassment. Peer pressure and persistence got us across the finish line with our dignity intact. It’s nice to be barely at the brink of summer and already in such great shape. Now we’ll just have to continue hitting the pavement in order to keep that shape from sagging into the recognizable silhouette of a bowl of Jell-O.

At Snow’s End

It is with a heavy heart that I must report on the “closed” signs at the ski resorts. Yes, the snowboarding season has officially ended in most of the mountains around these parts. Which means that the time has now come to reflect on what has passed in the powder over the last months. How did the conditions this year compare to other seasons? How did our skills compare?

snowboarding-2013-pioneer-u

I wish I could say that the snow blew me away this year but, alas, only the wind did that. The precipitation we received this winter was not spectacular yet it wasn’t completely awful either. As it turns out, its so-so abundance wasn’t the biggest obstruction to our enjoyment of the slopes. The main problem we encountered was that each snow flurry had a blustery bite on its backend. Almost every time a storm dumped decent amounts of powder, the post-dump days were filled with howling winds and/or nearly subzero temperatures. Those persistent gusts ruined many of our would-be-great boarding opportunities. To be separated from fresh precipitation in its prime by an overbearing climate was nearly intolerable.

Every year Jason and I buy a 10 pack of tickets to Brighton Resort. These are cheap to purchase in the preseason and we typically use them all up by mid-March. However, due to the windy weather, we didn’t even make it to Brighton’s slopes until the middle of February. Despicable! In order to deplete our passes, we ended up boarding nearly every weekend between the beginning of March and the middle of April. Hitting Brighton’s hills constantly was mostly fantastic but not altogether awesome. We were training for a half marathon at the same time (to be discussed next week) so every Saturday we’d go on an extra-long run and then we’d follow it up the next day with a bunch of extra-long runs down the mountain. In short, we’d wear ourselves out every weekend yet still be behind on our cleaning and errands when all was said and done. I know, I know, it’s pretty hard to feel sorry for me. Boohoo, I had to go boarding a whole lot. What a baby!

Although we were at Brighton perpetually, the best two days we spent in the mountains this winter weren’t actually at that resort. Our trips to Powder Mountain and Brian Head ended up coinciding perfectly with powder-pumping blizzards. Those two outings were so incredible that they almost made up for the rest of the season’s inadequacies. Almost.

And skills? Jason claims that my ability to cruise through deep powder increased many folds this winter. Improving my powder power was never on my mind, I was always just having fun, but I have to admit that I can practically ride the fluffy stuff like a pro now. I’m not exactly sure when that happened.

Except for a couple of outstanding days, the boarding this year was rather lackluster. Wind, wind, and more wind spoiled any chance at greatness this season might have had. But, I must say, those two outstanding days were absolutely amazing! Now that the boarding season and our half marathon are over, maybe our weekends will leave us feeling refreshed and caught up instead of drained and behind or maybe they’ll just leave us craving what we’re missing: the frosty thrill of carving downhill while a vicious breeze pelts prickly snow crystals at our faces. Then again, maybe not.

More Moab Memoirs

Moab is not only where you’ll find the most popular mountain biking ride in the world, the Slickrock Trail, which gets 100,000 visitors each year, but it’s also home to countless other paths of pedaling awesomeness. This small town is surrounded by a seemingly endless web of outdoor diversion. Jason and I made our half-yearly pilgrimage to that most holy of cycling sites last week. Once again we explored lots of new terrain and once again we were not disappointed.

The scenery along the Colorado River Overlook Trail was beautiful. Eye-catching shapes and striking colors filled the landscape.
The scenery along the Colorado River Overlook Trail was beautiful. Eye-catching shapes and striking colors filled the landscape.
The sky looked questionable as we biked but a dusty breeze was all it poured down on us.
The sky looked a little questionable as we biked but a dusty breeze was all it poured down on us.

For our first day of mountain biking, we journeyed down to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park to ride the Colorado River Overlook Trail. This path is a little over 7 miles long each way and is only suitable for either hardy 4WDs or mountain bikes. As far as physical difficulty goes, it’s probably one of the easiest routes we’ve biked around Moab but that doesn’t mean your grandma could conquer it on her Rascal. Although comparatively flat, it crosses plenty of hills and passes through a fair amount of sand. Sand, you see, is the sworn enemy of mountain bikers; it saps energy while stealing control. You exert yourself greatly in it just to go somewhere you didn’t want to at a painfully sluggish speed. Yes, this trail has its share of that gritty beast. On the particular afternoon of our ride, wind was also an adversary. Through sections of our journey it gusted over 20 MPH, adding another element of difficulty to our trek. You’ve never lived until you’ve had your bike literally ripped out from underneath you by a tempestuous breeze. What a blow!

That boy of mine can't resist crawling into any interesting cranny.
That boy of mine can’t resist crawling into any interesting cranny.
This sign says it all.
This sign says it all.

Despite my paragraph of complaints, this trail really was easier than most we’ve done and we got the confidence boost to prove it: A couple of 4WDs passed us early in our trip but then, much to our surprise, we actually ended up overtaking them a few miles later. Yes, the energy provided by our pedaling feet and the skill with which we rock-hopped surpassed the strength of these decked out vehicles. Boy did that inflate my ego! This road ends at a viewpoint that overlooks the Colorado River as it lazily winds through a gorge over 1000 feet deep. Being surrounded by unmarked cliffs was a bit unsettling but the panorama from atop those precipices was spectacular. However, I’ll admit that the scene might have seemed a tad more magnificent to us just because we got to see it first. When you can cycle faster than a fancy rigged Jeep you know that you are beyond the definition of cool.

Precariously perched above the Colorado, we were surrounded on all sides by edges that put me a little on edge.
Precariously perched above the Colorado, we were surrounded on all sides by edges that put me a little on edge.
Pretty amazing right? Which view are we talking about?
Pretty amazing right? Which view are we talking about?

There was still a bit of daylight left when we finished our faster-than-motorized ride so we decided to take advantage of being in the Needles by making a little hike on the Slickrock Foot Trail. (No correlation to the biking trail of the same name.) It was a pleasant and pretty path but the glorious sunset I was hoping it would allow me to capture was ruined by clouds that covered the sky at an untimely moment. Drat! It was still a nice, although windy, excursion.

You can guess just where that giant dust cloud was headed.
You can guess just where that giant dust cloud was headed.
Near the end of the trail, some friendly travelers took a picture of us.
Near the end of the trail some friendly travelers took a picture of us.
The Slickrock Foot Trail, true to its name, crossed over a slickrock plateau.
The Slickrock Foot Trail, true to its name, crossed over a slickrock plateau.

Our second day in Moab, traditionally our hiking day, we opted to try a popular route that can be accessed from town. The Hidden Valley Trail travels up a steep hillside covered with boulders, known fittingly as Barney Rubble, to a beautiful and unexpected valley cradled between two crimson plateaus. (Yes, its name is accurate.) Eventually, after the path crosses this basin, it joins up with the Moab Rim Trail. From the Moab Rim Trail, a little side jaunt will take you to a perfect spot to gawk at the entire Moab region. Up there we could see all of the eroded twists and uncanny colors of the desert landscape from Arches to Canyonlands. It was killer! Apparently, this area also contains some notable petroglyphs. Sadly, we missed those but, surprisingly, we found quite a few fossils in the rocks as we walked along. In total we hiked about 7.5 miles that day, which isn’t terribly impressive but it was long enough to give us an appetite and an entitlement for the curry coconut shrimp skewers at the Twisted Sistas Café, one of our new favorite Moab eateries. Yum.

The first part of the Hidden Valley Trail was steep and strewn with a humble of boulders. It was tricky to hike up and tricky to hike down.
The first part of the Hidden Valley Trail was steep and strewn with a jumble of boulders. It was tricky to hike up and tricky to hike down.
I was considering walking out onto that giant boulder but a big gap changed my mind.
I was considering walking out onto that giant rock but a big gap changed my mind.

On our last day in Moab, we had big plans to explore the Book Cliffs via our bikes. However, Mother Nature had plans of her own that unfortunately did not coincide with ours. A storm system moved in that morning and flashflood warnings were issued. It was only sprinkling when we woke up but by early afternoon the world was due for a blustery soaking. We decided it would be wise to abandon our original cycling plan so as not to coat the insides of our new vehicle, and all of our luggage, with mud from our bike tires. Instead, we opted to do a short 2 mile hike around the rim of Hell Roaring Canyon to view Jewel Tibbetts Arch. We thought this was a safer and less messy option considering the state of the weather until…we realized that we were trekking through pretty much the worst place you could be if there were a flashflood. What fools we Sabins be.

Jason and I had a lovely picnic atop the Moab Rim overlook with sandwiches from the Love Muffin Cafe, our favorite place to grab grub in Moab.
Jason and I had a lovely picnic atop the Moab Rim overlook with sandwiches from the Love Muffin Cafe, our favorite place to grab grub in Moab.
Jewel Tibbetts Arch was hard to spot without sunlit shadows to give it away.
Jewel Tibbetts Arch was hard to spot without sunlit shadows to give it away.

The temperature when we began our hike was a frigid 37 degrees. We layered up with every bit of warmish clothing that we had with us because we hadn’t brought anything for weather like this. As we walked along, we got rained, hailed, and snowed on. Fortunately, the wind hadn’t picked up yet so at least we weren’t snowed on from above and below simultaneously. When we made it to the slippery edge of Hell Roaring Canyon we grasped, as we carefully took in the 400 foot sheer drop to the canyon floor, that we hadn’t really chosen the best spot to hike on a wet day. But it wasn’t until we entered an area of the trail that looped around a broad wash that we discovered just how bad our choice had been. The rock in this region had been worn and etched away by the flow of water, and not just your steady trickle. It was obvious that high speeds and violent impacts had carved this wide path. And worst of all, the water’s route ended abruptly over the lip of the canyon where it plummeted to the gorge floor. So we were hiking in a wash that experienced frequent flashfloods and, if we happened to get caught in one of those surges, we would die when we got pushed over the walls of the canyon long before we had a chance to drown. How comforting. Luckily, we made it back to our car before the precipitation became torrential. It was only then that we noticed on the trailhead sign a small note at the end of the hike’s description mentioning that flashfloods were extremely common at Hell Roaring Canyon and that that’s how it got its name. Hmmm…it seems to me that this information might be pertinent enough to warrant a conspicuous warning to potential cliff bait. Just a thought. Since we survived though, I guess our disaster averted will become just another wild tale in our enthralling Moab saga.

The edge of Hell Roaring Canyon unceremoniously drops off 400 feet into oblivion.
The edge of Hell Roaring Canyon unceremoniously drops off 400 feet into oblivion.
This wash could have been our last wild ride.
This wash could have been our last wild ride.

Moab was a little moody during our last visit. Between forceful winds one day and snow another, we experienced quite the weather whirlwind. But, when you’re exhausting yourself in an arid desert, it’s always better to be a little chilled than a little roasted/dehydrated/heatstroked/dead. Despite the few meteorological hiccups, it was a great mini-vacation. But how could any escape to Moab not be marvelous?