Running high

It was past time to get up to elevation.  And that I did, starting at 11,600 feet, for two of my recent runs.  Running may not be the operative verb, however – it was more like fast hiking, and sometimes more like a death march, on the steeper, higher sections of Mt. Bierstadt.  One day was windy and bereft of humans (aside from my husband, a family who were some of the nicest people I have encountered in a long time, and the two big white dogs, who don’t qualify as humans, of course, but who often provide better company).  The other day held bluebird skies and a smattering of snow on top.  Unfortunately, those gorgeous conditions prompted about five gazillion other folks to attempt a summit push, and it felt like a highway (but certainly a very picturesqe one).   That day there were two other actual runners out there – one who grunted as he passed me on the way up, the other who screamed past me on the way down while casually inquiring, “You training for Pikes Peak (marathon)?” like we were chatting at sea level.

It was good to be up there.  One, because I need to experience the difficulty of moving around in thin air, and hopefully accilimate to it so I can move faster through what little of it is there.  Two, it is truly beautiful, even with the multitudes of people scrambling around.  There is something about the crispness of the air, the clarity of the views, the sense of belonging to the earth and the air, as you push on it and through it.  My pictures do not do it justice, at all, but here are a few…

The lake at the beginning of the trail

Non summit trail – the road (far) less traveled…

Lake with Bill and Sascha and Yoder

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