Claudia thinks we should write a book.
For kids, it would feature adventures on large bikes and small, red bikes and blue, road bikes, mountain bikes, kids bikes, tag-alongs. You get the idea.
Hearing of my run on Saturday, she's decided it should be the story line for her bike book. Her kids would be riding bikes. I of course was running.
Starting at the East Boulder Community Center, I ran north, along the eastern edge of the city, past other runners, bikers, hikers, dog-walkers.
Through Flatirons Golf Course, past quiet groups on putting greens, on north we go along the edge of the Stazio Softball Fields. Turning west, we pass the Valmont Dog Park, scores of pups and their families out on a Saturday morning. Approaching the runway of the Boulder Municipal Airport, overhead a glider silently swishes to a landing, where just beyond a group of hot-air balloons has launched and is drifting slowly north.
Meeting more bikers and runners heading out for their morning jaunts, we cruise past the community garden at Fortune Park to Boulder Creek, where the high school and college people have gathered for frolic in the autumn stream. The sounds of hammered dulcimer let us know we're approaching the Boulder County Farmers' Market, now in full swing with the abundant harvest of fall upon us. Thousands of folks milling about, chattering, sampling tomatoes, greeting neighbors, picnicking on lawns, tossing frisbees.
But we can't delay long--we've got miles to go yet. On down Boulder Creek, today the Colorado Buffs host the University of Georgia Bulldogs in a nationally-televised game at Folsom Field. Tailgate parties are well underway as we come to the practice field and then Harvest House Hotel. Naturally on a sunny October morning the tennis courts are alive with rackets and balls and light-footed athletes.
Deep in the shadows of the creek, I see a trout fisher patiently casting, casting, casting, the dappled sunlight showing flashes as the line Ss out. Kids are playing along the bank, tossing leaves and sticks, probably refugees from the climbing rocket, just west of the skateboards, at Scott Carpenter Park, now a beehive of activity and squeals of Chase and Hide n Seek.
We continue our journey, now turning south toward home at the EBCC, we dodge the bikes and arriving players at the new Park East basketball courts. A high-spirited game is well underway. He's going in for the layup now, and can't get past the little guy with long arms and a great block.
Across the elegant footbridge over Foothills Parkway, we head on south, through neighborhoods getting their final season cleanup, to the perfume of freshly mowed bluegrass and tall piles of golden leaves. We wave to the man hosing down his sidewalk as we turn the corner, then straight on in to our waiting refreshment and hot shower.
This is a community that is alive.
Running it is a good challenge, the path a mix of dirt, asphalt and concrete, gradually sloping to match the various creek and stream basins. The weather was perfect at a near-constant 65 degrees or so, between 10:15 and 2:15. I'm hydrating with Hammer HEED, supplementing with Hammer Gel premixed in water. I find the Gel inadequate for the task at hand, and will try Perpetuum to get more protein and a heavier dose of nutrients for this distance.
The distance is doable today, but I found myself wondering how I might do in a few weeks with an additional eight miles to go. I'll feel better in a couple of weeks when I can test with a 20-miler.
Hammer Recoverite was effective, especially supplemented with whey-based chocolate Muscle Milk and a large serving at my local Chipotle Mexican Grill. My energy for the night was good enough to take in a showing of The American, at our Nederland Community Center Theater.
I slept a lot for the remainder of the weekend. It was delicious.
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