Lessons on Grotto Mountain

Grotto Mountain. It’s not a beautiful mountain, but I don’t always climb beautiful mountains. I climb them to look at other beautiful mountains or valleys. As usual I was chasing those views today but after 2 hours of quad shredding climbing I was forced to turn around only 400’ from the summit. A thunderstorm was suddenly rolling in across the valley almost 5 hours early. Really?! 🙇‍♀️ But it was like the voice of God telling me to get down off that mountain, NOW. Standing alone on a very exposed 9000’ peak in a lightening storm is not really a good idea so I did - but to say I was very disappointed is an understatement. As I started downclimbing 😣 and cursing just a little, I started to understand.

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Grotto Mountain doesn’t carry its beauty as a crown. It’s beauty and it’s namesake are discreetly wrapped in a massive breathtaking cathedral of rock hidden from view where only those who seek will find it. I had barely glanced at it on my way up. I wasn’t meant to summit, or run ridgelines today. I was meant to see the Grotto.

#grottomountain #primalwisdom #alwaysrespectthemountain #naturetherapy #staygrounded #payattention #downclimbingsucks #ultramindset #salmingrunningnorthamerica

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I always feel excited climbing a mountain. Always. Today I felt anxious and a foreboding looking at the ridge. Almost turned back twice. I truly think God was yelling at me to LISTEN up already and get my ass back down before I committed to something that may get me in trouble. He knew something I didn’t. 

Sometimes God whispers to us and sometimes he has to YELL. 

As I was climbing up that mountain I had summit fever. I wanted to bag that peak, run that ridge, and get down before the storm hit. I climbed with a ferocity that I haven’t in a long time, panting and puffing in the thinning air like I was wearing an N95 mask. In several places it was serious scrambling requiring all 4 limbs. Several times I looked back thinking, damn. This would be hell to go down. I hope the other side of the ridge is easier. 

All this time I was circling a huge rock cathedral. I stopped to take a panoramic picture but what I had photographed barely registered in my hypoxic brain. It was majestic. It was breathtakingly beautiful.  I was looking at the grotto, the iconic rock formation for which the mountain was named, wrapped in columns of rock that seemed to protect it from external  forces...and I didn’t even notice. See picture at top of post.

Finally I stopped. I almost turned back. I realized I was only half way up and I felt something bad deep in my stomach. But I decided to ignore it and pressed on. I was conditioned not to stop and I was selfish. I had come too far and I wanted to see what was on top. 

Finally I broke out of the alpine and started the last ascent to the top. I celebrated every 100’ of gain as it started to sprinkle. Go go go! You’re almost there. Just summit and head back down. I kept bargaining. When I was only 400’ from the summit,

The thunder rolled. 

From far across the valley, on the other side of Canmore, the clouds darkened and thunder rumbled. When you are standing on a scree embankment almost 9000’ above sea level, dizzy with exhaustion, cracking thunder is hard to ignore. 

Keep in mind I was already going against all my instincts and all the messages the universe was trying to send me in continuing up that mountain. That thunder was yelling at me to wake up already and LISTEN. “Get your freaking ass off this mountain” was what popped into my head and this time I didn’t ignore it. I felt that knowing. I felt genuine fear. #alwaysrespectthemountain

I immediately turned around and headed down. Going up was slow and going down wasn’t much faster. The rocks would get very slippery and treacherous in the rain and as I watched rain drops dot the rocks, I prayed out loud that God would stop the rain until I made it below the tree line. Miraculously it stopped raining...until the EXACT moment I crossed the tree line. Tell me God isn’t real. 

As I slowly and carefully picked my way down that mountain the thunder continued to occasionally roll which would spur my feet into further downward action. When I passed the half way mark the sun came out and I fumed. Really?! Am I in the Hunger Games arena?

But sometimes God knows things we don’t. Like maybe I would have gotten lost on that ridge. Maybe I wouldn’t have made it down before the real thunderstorm developed at 3:30pm this afternoon. As an ultra runner I’ve conditioned myself to ignore pain and fatigue and the urge to stop. “Don’t stop” is a mantra that has gotten me to a lot of places I am proud of, including 100 mile finishes. But through it all I’ve always felt pulled towards my goal, not pushed, not repulsed.

Maybe I need to learn to listen when my instincts feel more like a magnetic repulsion rather than attraction. Today what seemed like a good idea required an addendum. So be it. 

The Art of the Dance

Sharing again...because this pic says everything I'm about to write here, and more....PC: Sarah Seads

You can take a girl out of the mountains, but you can't take the mountains out of the girl. As the days get shorter and colder here in central Canada, I again struggle to find my running mojo while running in a very flat and soon to be cold place. There are many advantages to running here.  Leg speed.  Temperature fluctuations. Wind resistance.  Great people.  However, I find myself revisiting memories of great runs past even as I already start to plan for 2017 ~ plan for runs in the mountains.  Why do I continually feel pull back to the mountains?

Trail running.  Mountain running. Dancing.

When I first moved off the roads and started running mountain trails on Vancouver Island, I simply couldn't believe that people actually RAN up the trails my friends were taking me on.  Every run burst my lungs, left me with burning quads, and a deep sense of inferiority as the mountain won battle after battle.  I entered trail races with names like "GutBuster" and "Perseverance Trail Run," continually pushing to succeed at running gnarly mountain terrain.  It was work, it was hard.  I was young, tough, and determined.  I grew to tolerate it.  Even got good at it, earning a few podium finishes. But I still didn't really like mountain running.

But it wasn't until I stopped pushing, and started working WITH the mountain that I fell in love with it.  When I read back over things I've written about my best days running, dance metaphor keeps popping up over and over.  From a woman's perspective, a great dance partner leads you confidently.  You can relax and flow with the dance as you match your partner step for step, perfectly in sync.  When you and your partner apply just the right pressure against each other, you move as one to create a beautiful picture of human movement (which is much easier said than done.)

I'd like to suggest that trail and/or mountain running well executed is the exact same thing.  The mountain is your partner, and you need to work together.  As I talk with my running friends and the athletes that I coach, often hill training is met with dread, and races with lots of elevation create anxiety.

Learning to climb in Squamish, BC:
A perfect example of needing to work with the mountain rather than against it

I have watched so many people attack a climb as if they have to beat it into submission, or lean way too far back on their heels on a descent, fighting the pull of gravity down the mountain.  If you push too hard against that climb, it will push back.  If you resist the pull too much as you descend, it will pull harder. If you commit too heavily to a step that isn't quite right on a gnarly trail, it will drag you down.  You need to match your partner step for step, reacting quickly to stay in sync as the path leads you along.  If you don't start dancing the dance the ground wants you to, you'll either blow up on a climb, trash your quads on a descent, or trip and fall.  Not enjoyable.  Not pretty.  Definitely not art.

One of my favourite joy runs of the year - Cumberland Community Forest

But when you fall into step with the mountain trail and let it lead you, the dance becomes easy and the thing becomes a part of you. Kilian Jornet, arguably one of the world's greatest mountain runners, recently posted this video as a perfect example of what I'm talking about.  It wasn't until I grasped this delicate piece of the equation that I started to truly enjoy and eventually fall in love with mountain trail running.  Mountains, hills, trails - these are things not to be conquered, or attacked.  They are to be flirted with, and they are continually inviting you to dance.  And if you accept, I challenge you to join together with nature to make each run an artful masterpiece of fluid motion.  Not a painful picture of warriors clashing as they battle to the death.  Then that summit will be shared and appreciated as much as it was earned. And it'll have you coming back for more.

Now go out and find somewhere to dance.

Creative Downhill Training: Flatlander Style

Over the past few weeks a friend and I have been brainstorming ways to creatively train for downhill running while living in a place with no hills.  My strength is downhill running, while it's his weakness.  I'm dealing with an injury (details forthcoming when I have a full diagnosis) that precludes me from uphill running.  So together we are motived to work on the eccentric component of downhill running.  I don't want to lose my secret weapon and he wants to develop his.

We are both planning on big races in 2016 that involve lots of downhill running out west.  It's actually been quite the process, evolving from epiphanies while on the way to a run..."I know!  I'll just put the treadmill up on blocks!"... to discussions on proper speed to simulate deceleration, matching leg speed to treadmill belt to avoid burning out the motor, adding weighted packs, and even my most recent idea: adding resistance band around the waist to pull me forward.  I've had a few laughs at myself, pondered the science, and gotten a few very strange looks from my physio colleagues as I experimented on our treadmill at work including "why do you want to run downhill?"

"Well," I responded, "because there are no hills here! And because I can't run uphill right now, so I'm going to make sure my quads don't lose their ability to run downhill.  That, and I'm curious."

Here is a video of Todd running on his treadmill propped up on blocks:

And are a few pictures of me running with the resistance band tied to a belt around my waist while running on the treadmill propped up on blocks.

And here is a short clip:

I personally haven't tried running with a weighted vest yet because I don't have one, but I was really impressed with the resistance band system.  Anyone who's run down a mountain on uneven terrain knows that sometimes you feel off balance, sometimes your foot lands perfectly under you, and sometimes it doesn't - and you have to instantaneously react to accommodate to that without breaking stride.  Well, running with the tension of the bands pulling me forward from three attachment points around my hips provided just enough unpredictable variability to simulate free running down a mountain, not quite sure where my foot was going to land.  In addition, I was instantly aware of how high my heel came up during swing phase. The bands immediately activated my posterior chain of muscles that eccentrically controls that controlled fall forward. Honestly, it was as exhilarating as a treadmill run could ever be for me.

The key to this is to start slowly if you are not used to downhill running.  Eccentric training is very effective but very demanding on your connective tissue and your quads.  It's easy for your form to fall apart really fast.  Copy with caution!

Feel free to laugh and call us crazy...and pick apart our running technique.  I have. This training is of course supplemented with eccentric training in the gym and eventually uphill training for me.  If anyone knows of a treadmill with a bigger range than +15% to -3% please let me know!