For several years in a row Gaby and I have returned to Vail for the opening week of ski season and to celebrate Thanksgiving. We arrived in Vail Saturday evening, after spending a night and day in Boulder, to find our beloved retreat blanketed in a deep, puffy blanket of glorious early season powder. Some say the recent and current snow storms have produced the best opening ski week conditions in over a decade. We have not been up the mountain yet on skis but we will soon. The challenge is each of the past few years my desire to bundle up in heavy clothes and clunky boots, and lug heavy skis has waned. In addition, the thought of wiping out and getting injured, thus taking running away, is scary at best. So instead of procuring pricy lift tickets and expensive on-mountain bread-bowl-soup lunches, I layer on thin, light, wicking fabrics and tacky trail shoes. The Sandstone Hill entrance of Vail's North Trail network is some 200 yards from the door and a welcome gateway to the steep mountain trails I now love more to run up than to ski down. All of this is to say we came to Vail to ski, the conditions are 'epic', and I would rather run in the powder than ski. How ironic.
Running in snow is great fun. Unfortunately, taking it easy and, more to the point, not running, is still a priority. Over the past two weeks, since Masochist, I've run a whopping 10 miles. Rest is simply something I must do right now; it is my job. The unfortunate byproduct of this current workload is additional forced restraint thanks to the extra time on my hands courtesy of the upcoming holiday week, the fact that we're only footsteps from miles of killer trails and snow is in the forecast for all week. This, too, is sadly ironic.
I will continue following the self-prescribed rest order but not getting some sort of trail fix, at least a little, during the current epic conditions here in Vail would be a sin. And when not running, or skiing, or working, I hope to do more of the following.
|Visiting the farmers market in Boulder.|