I went out to Colorado on Friday night. My dad was running a 50 mile race in Fruita, and I just wanted to get out of town for a while. My brother and I brought our bikes and crammed them into my dad's car. After a sickening ride up Spanish Fork Canyon, we were on our way to the middle of nowhere: eastern utah/colorado. Lots of road and empty space. We got there and spent the night at a hotel.
Early the next day we dropped my dad off for the 6:30 start. Runners are freaking gross. I don't think I can ever be a long distance runner. No thanks.
We went back to the hotel and slept. My brother and I murdered a continental breakfast and went back the the race. My dad had finished his first 25 miles loop by 11:00 ish and we cheered/hassled him as he forced nasty race food into his system and then ran off for the second loop.
So after that we got out our bikes and rode around. There were tons of trails and roads around the race route so we just went all over the place. We then went down to one of the far aid stations to meet my dad on the last stage of the race. He eventually showed up but by that time we were tired. On the ride back my illiterate brother's tire went flat so he ended up walking the last 3 miles back to the car. I rode ahead to get a pump but when I came back he over inflated his tire... and it popped. Looking down the road, we saw my dad running up to finish the last mile of the race. Hilarious.
Here's a shot of my dad after finishing. He was out of it. We were all tired and burnt out. My brother and I rode close to 20 miles. I was sunburned and tired. After my dad cleaned up we started to drive back.
It was a quick trip. We had some fun, and it was good to get out of town for a little while.
No comments:
Post a Comment