summit of Mt of the Holy Cross | August 2008
I started amelia carolyn just a couple of years ago on a whim. It reintroduced me to my love of writing and provided a venue to share and express my thoughts and experiences.
And I credit this blog for helping me find and develop my passion for writing and desire to help others through life coaching. And in March of this year, I launched Expand Outdoors, my life coaching practice. And with it, a new blog.
I’m also embarking on a year-long road trip with my husband, where we’re planning on blogging together about our journey. (Blog url to be determined.)
That’s three blogs for me… too many for now. So I’ve come to the decision to take a hiatus, (or sabbatical, or break, or whatever you’d like to call it) from amelia carolyn. I believe I’ll be back, but my focus is elsewhere right now and instead of feeling guilty and stressed about not writing here, I’m going to trust that the right decision for now is to let it sit for a bit.
amelia carolyn
My mom wanted to name me Amelia Carolyn before I was born, but eventually my parents decided on Amy. I’ve always dreamed that Amelia was my alter-ego. A braver and more creative self that was hidden, and I’d wanted to give her a voice through my writing.
At the beginning of 2008 I had anticipated it would be a year of newness and celebrating all that was changing in my life. I didn’t know at the time what that meant. This blog was part of that year and over the next two years, I’ve been able to integrate the bravery of amelia carolyn that was hidden, and bring her into the present.
You can catch up with me at Expand Outdoors and theAdvanture.
thank you
I want to thank all of my readers for supporting me, encouraging me and reading here. It has helped me grow and expand myself and get me ready for the future.
hiking by lower mesa falls in Idaho | August 2010
preparation
at the start
Last March, as I was soaking in the Kaua’i sun, learning how to surf and immersing myself in the launch of my new business. I’d taken a sabbatical from running to focus my energies on surfing, but was in the midst of planning to get started again.
So when the sign-up for the Barr Trail Mountain Race opened in March, I decided to enter and planned on being well-trained and ready to run hard.
The running hard part I managed. But the training and being ready? Well… that didn’t work out so well.
The truth is, I didn’t run a lot between March and August and I’m not exactly sure why. I love running. I love the feeling of working hard and being on the trails. My priorities have shifted this year and I’ve been focusing a lot of my energy on Expand Outdoors.
I could offer up a ton of excuses, but the plain fact is, I just didn’t put the miles in and wasn’t ready for the race.
But I was excited about it. I looked forward to it. I figured it’d give me a really good idea of where my fitness level really was. I’d run it last year and had done pretty well. Would I completely fall apart this year? Would I blow up and maybe not even finish?
Or would I surprise myself and do well? Would it turn out that I’m in better shape than I feel?
I was curious to find out. And I was looking forward to the run itself. Just being out there and doing something I love doing. I didn’t have any expectations or goals, other than to finish and have fun doing it.
race day
July 18, 2010. I’m up at 4:30am getting ready. We arrive at the start line early. I pick up my race number, pin it on my shirt and do some stretching.
The course begins in Manitou Springs, CO, at the start of the cog railway up to Pike’s Peak. We pick up Barr Trail and run up 6.3 miles to Barr Camp (at 10,200’) and then back down to the finish (6,570’). Elevation gain is 3,630’.
elevation profile
For my non-acclimated lungs, I was curious how my lungs would feel.
the race
It was time. We listened to The Star Spangled Banner and then off we went. I started out slowly, pacing my heart rate and my breath.
running up the W's
Since I’d been on this course a number of times before, I knew the beginning was steep and planned on walking quickly, instead of running. Unfortunately, my right knee decided not to cooperate. Every so often (with no rhyme or reason), the tracking would be off and I’d pinch some ligament or tendon that would startle me with a quick shock of pain.
It was less painful to run. Go figure. My heart rate was too high to run (as my fitness level wasn’t up to par), but it was painful to walk quickly. So I walked a little slower, running when I could.
As I reached Barr Camp and the turnaround, I felt good. I was running much stronger than I’d anticipated (especially since it was the longest run I’d been on for a long time). The mountain was beautiful. Clouds came in and shielded us from the hot rays of the sun. I was smiling.
On the way down, I grew stronger and got into a rhythm. My knee didn’t pinch on the downhill, so I was able to open up and relax. My heart rate settled in and I cruised.
And then OUCH! A mile and a half from the finish, my thigh (or IT band) on my left leg began to seize up. I felt like my foot was on the end of a puppet string and the puppeteer was trying to untangle it. I had trouble controlling my left foot. I slowed down to stretch it a few times. I walked a bit to loosen it up. Stretched again—this time for a full minute.
Finally it began to straighten out and I was able to run. I realized I’d put my body through a lot and was grateful I was still able to run.
finished!
Two hours, fifty-nine minutes and eight seconds after beginning, I crossed the finish line, happy with my time. It was significantly slower than my 2009 time (by over 20 minutes), but all things considered, not too shabby.
I took a quick dunk in the icy creek and headed home, happy that I ran hard and survived.
