Lost and Found

Last night we were up in the slush that was Grouse Mountain.  It was two degrees on the hill and the fog was very thick.  I had worn too much clothing and took my light shell off when we got about 1/4 of the way into the snowshoe (at Snag Tree for those in the know).  The group that was there was fun -  the hardcores as I called them -  and we had a great time running out to Thunderbird Ridge and back.  I was happy with the run and happier to be able to catch an early tram down the mountain so I could get home and hang out with Sonja (I had a meeting after school, so I hadn't been home).  After arriving at the bottom of the hill, I checked the only zippered pocket I had for my car key.  

It wasn't there.

The zipper was open.

And everything was locked in the car.

My mood took a 180 as I didn't leave the tram and rode it back up to the top of the hill to check the Chalet for the single key.  Guest services didn't have any keys turned in and a quick but thorough check of where I had been in the chalet turned up nothing.  I stood at the doors of the chalet, alone, wondering if it was really even worth the effort to look for a single silver key in the dark after groomers and 60 snowshoers had run the course.

I strapped my snowshoes back on went for a look.  My second run felt good enough, but just the thought of everything that would need to happen to get into the car made me ill.  I ran a looked, scanning every piece of tree debris that was emerging in the melting snow.  I managed to get back to the snag tree knowing that I was not going to search beyond there.  Hope had ebbed and flowed along the route out and it peaked as I saw the glint of silver half submerged in the snow.  I let a whoop that woke the hibernating bears and ran hard back to the chalet, key firmly in grasp the whole way.

Tonight I found my legs as well.  Not wanting to be at the track and with the warm up feeling blase, Jay, Paul, and I convinced ourselves that there was a good workout residing within us.  The workout was 1 x 400m for warm up and then 3 x 600 fast, with 800m recovery.

The first 400 felt ok and we ran a decent 67.  I was not looking forward to the extra 200 that we would have to add on.  Coach John had us down for 95 second 600s, crossing 400 in about 63's.  After the opening 67, I wondered about his predictions.  We were all feeling the week of training in our legs, but the benefit of being in a group is that you are accountable.

Jay lead the first 600 and Paul and I slid in behind him.  It felt fine, but not great.  We finished in 96 seconds, right around where Coach had us.  The next one Paul took the lead and we finished in 94.  The last one I lead and we pulled off a desperate 93, having split the 400 in 62.  It ended up being a very good workout and we all felt great about it - afterward.  But still, the fatigue of the marathon program is beginning to wear on me.  I am running well and that is great, but I have to keep mentally sharp.  I think that some trails are what the doctor is going to order!