Running a race gives you a unique close-up of our beautiful state
Iusually receive my missions via text sometime Saturday night. “HorsetoothMountain Park 8 a.m. Looks like there will be snow on the ground”
“Vern’s 6 a.m. Bring GU and trail shoes.”
Communities along the Front Range all have a group of explorers who crisscross the foothills in running shoes— and I was lucky enough to fall into the Fort Collins pack.
Although they often take part in races (going 13.1, 26.2, 50 and 100 miles at a stretch), they mostly run for running’s sake. They run through all the hours of the day and deep into the night (although they, unfortunately, seem to prefer the hours around dawn). They run when temperatures are “zeroish” with their shoes full of icy slush. They run up hills so steep it would make more sense to crawl up them. In other words, they are nuts. They are also completely awesome. I’ve lived in Northern Colorado 45 of my 46 years, but I’ve never seen it as close up as I have while on foot. It seems that nature saves her most quiet beauty for those who go slow.
I’ve come across a herd of deer at sunset in Lory State Park, marveled at the size of the snowflakes near the water’s edge at Horsetooth Reservoir and noticed the tiny buds of spring coloring the snow long before I would have on my bike or inmy car.
The challenge of running is hard on your body, but soothing to your spirit and empowering to your mind.
If you’re ready to start running and willing to put in the time, you can run five miles at a stretch, and then 10, 15 and 20. And they say if you can run 20, you can run anything.
If you think the sport is just for people so skinny that the only place they should be running is to the nearest deli, go to a race. You’ll see new moms running off the baby weight, grandparents, college students and, chances are, someone very similar to yourself.
And you’ll realize you could be on the other side of the sidelines.
I first tested myself in the heat of August at the Black Squirrel Half Marathon (gnarrunners.com/ black-squirrel-half) through Lory State Park, and then in a foot of snow at the 10-mile “Silent Trails” run in SouthernWyoming (highplainsharriers.org/silenttrails). I felt such a sense of accomplishment at the finish line of both races that I forgot to check my time. Last weekend, I joined the colorful ribbon of runners cutting through the gray of a spring snowstorm at the Horsetooth Half Marathon (horsetoothhalfmarathon.com).
Like newlyweds are often asked, “When are you going to start having children?,” new runners begin to field questions about their first marathon.
I wanted to run Boston, because nothing motivates me to do something more than having someone try to scare me away from it. But Boston, which requires a competitive qualifying time, was overwhelmed with applicants this year.
I’m going to Boston anyway, to cheer on the participants and then come home and run my own race onMay 4. The Colorado Marathon (ftcollinsmarathon.com), dubbed “the nation’s most scenic marathon,” comes 17 miles down the Poudre Canyon before finishing in downtown Fort Collins. We northerners are happy to have the canyon back. The river no longer runs black from the High Park Fire, and new growth is beginning to cover the scars from last fall’s floods.
Speaking of being “Mountain Strong,” the Inaugural Colorado Fall Classic Marathon (coloradofallclassicmarathon.com) will be run from Estes Park down the Big Thompson Canyon to Loveland on Sept. 14.
Races offer even the most seasoned Colorado traveler new views of our state. And if you run one of them, you’ll likely discover that your own strength matches the resiliency of this state we call home.