the bank of La Luz

Most triathletes I know are working toward something, which means that every training swim, bike, and run that we do goes toward a higher goal, usually either a big race or a big meal. Sometimes both. I love it when people talk about making deposits to the Bank of Ironman, it's a very apt analogy.

The few I know who aren't planning on a big race are depressed, rudderless. I'm sure they're just between races, or meals.

This month for me is about making deposits to the Bank of La Luz. The La Luz trail run is really just one very expensive hill. I have to make a lot of little deposits before August 6. Thinking further ahead, I hope that I can transfer all that La Luz money to the Bank of Iron Horse.

The hill running we've been doing for the La Luz training has been tough, but do-able. They've deliberately thrown hills at us that are more challenging than La Luz. The experienced runners in the training group are encouraging, and up to now it hasn't seemed too bad. Last Thursday, we ran the ski area on the backside of Sandia Peak (that's the the mountain you see pictured here). Golden Eagle trail (the windy green one on the left of the map) is a mountain bike/mountain goat trail. The ski area is breathtakingly beautiful in the summer, silent and cool. It was so silent in fact, I lost all the other runners in our group.

A short distance from the top I also lost the trail. The trail switchbacks back and forth under the ski lift at a relatively gentle grade. Beneath the ski lift there is also a trail taking a direct route to the top by way of a 20% grade (I call it the Sir Hillary route). Because I lost the trail, I cheated myself out of the last two miles of gentle switchbacks, and took the Sir Hillary approach straight up the side for the last quarter mile (chocks away, wot wot?). And then we took the Sir Hillary back down (ow!). So it was an hour and a bit up, and about 20 minutes back down, deposited into the bank of La Luz. Cha ching!

Did I mention I saw bears? Two cubs and a mama (from the safety of the car)! Gotta love the mountains!

As a result of this deposit, my ass hurt on Friday. On Saturday, my ass still hurt. I had a bike ride with "some hill" scheduled, so we did all the hills (and we have a few here): we did the Fingers ride. I'm sure we did more than the ones listed here, we clocked 34 miles of hills and flat. Money into the bank of...I dunno...it's in the bank, baby.

Since my ass wasn't hurting enough, I got up this morning to do possibly the most challenging run I've in months: I did the road leading up to the La Luz trail, the trailhead climb. Many have told me if I can do the road, I can do the whole thing, since the road is allegedly the suckiest part of the whole run.

I don't believe them, whoever they are.

We ran from the County Line down to the entrance road and up to the trailhead. I don't know what the road grades are, but they sucked. I estimate it was 3 miles to the trailhead from where we started. The first mile was downhill, the next two were straight up.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of a little hill - they're just hills: they go up, they go down. But there is something particularly evil about the fact that they START the La Luz trail run about 2 miles before you actually get to touch the dirt of the trail on these particular asphalt paved, high grade monsters. It's completely degrading, psychologically devastating. I'm running (er, crawling) slowly dying and I'm looking up at the mountain (looming- it was definitely looming) thinking holy crap, I'm ready to croak here on these pitiful little 2 miles and I still have to run up that? 7 more miles up that?

It is cold comfort that the elevation gain is about 975 feet in those two miles - that's almost a fifth of the total elevation for the whole run.

I should mention here that I have never ever walked or hiked the length of the La Luz trail. It's one of those things that used to scare the crap out of me - in my mind, only really fit people can hike that trail. Last year my beloved husband ran the race with a really decent time, so I blame him for talking me into it. I think he got me with, "hey, you should do it this year!"

Ironically, I have joked that the first time I'll get to be on the trail is when I'm running it - it looks like that will come true. The trail has been closed since spring due to fire hazard - I'm hoping I'll at least get some training time on it if they open it in time for the run.

I'm going to have to run that bastard road at least a few more times to get the doom and gloom out of my head. Nonetheless, Cha Ching, more money in the bank!

What have I gotten myself into this time?