You Don't Know... Bolas

Real Runners' World--Kachina Village (map it)

A final altitude blog post coming to you straight from Forest Highlands, the once pristine neighborhood that Furman Elite has taken over for the last three weeks and made our own. One week to go and we have yet to exploit the 36 holes of golf, two immense club houses, pools, tennis courts, and other amenities reserved for that run-of-the-mill family with a bit too much money, a few too many mountain homes, and a genuine fear of the simplicity of a tent and an overused JanSport backpack. But don’t get me wrong, thanks to The Hi-Lands, Furman Elite has been blessed with a near ideal setup on the outskirts of Flagstaff. I’m sure the timing helps, arriving right between seasons when the weather is too cold to adventure into the mountains, but the snow accumulation is not quite significant enough for skiing (but just enough to complicate our daily running routine). I’m not sure how Jeff pulled off the deal he did to get us this place, who he wined and dined, who he was forced to sell his body (or Heidi’s) to, but we certainly couldn’t have asked for a better location or housing option for the six members of Furman Elite who bravely took a leap of faith and tripped it to altitude. As such, I can’t speak for the suckers who remained in Greenville during this time, enjoying the mild South Carolina winter, the home-made cafeteria meals, and the company of Bobby Gary; I can only assume, in spite of progressing nicely with their training, that without the rest of us present to entertain them and pump up their egos, they have resorted to cannibalism, or crocheting at the very least. Speaking of Coach Gary, he will be joining us at altitude in just two more days!! It would be a lie to say Furman Elite has been lost without him, but we do need a fourth guy to make ping pong doubles a reality, so welcome Coach to our stomping grounds. There’s a pullout in the BroDen or an extra bunk bed in the room at the top of the stairs (watch out, it’s covered in tomato paste).

So for our readers curious about the logistics of our Olympic-preparation training center in Flagstaff, allow me to indulge you. We’re crashing in a quaint 22-bedroom (give or take) cottage at 7000ft about 10 minutes from downtown and NAU’s campus. Through a series of connections, we’ve managed to obtain use of most of NAU’s essential facilities on select mornings when the rest of the world is soundly sleeping. In the case of the two or three snow storms that have struck the area, we pile into our all-wheel-drive GMC Monstrosity and off-road it down to Sedona, which, at 4000ft, has remained clear for our running pleasure. Otherwise, Flagstaff is home to miles and miles of dirt roads, the ones that wind deep into the Coconino National Forest and leave you considering where you might stash that next dead body. The training effect is slow to set in; the first couple weeks at altitude leave you gasping for air as if you’d been gut-punched by the same guy that killed Houdini. I think everyone felt pretty out-of-shape to start things off but the adjustment to the thin air is now becoming evident. Today, for instance, we tripped it south through Oak Creek Canyon to our go-to running location near Sedona. Over the course of our progression run, I, for one, felt akin to Justin Gatlin, Tyson Gay, Juice Jacobs, Eddy Hellebuyck, Mary Decker, Lance Armstrong, Leonid Shvetsov, Rashid Ramzi, probably Taoufik Makhloufi, and Christian Hesch, among others... all athletes who have taken advantage of the extensive aerobic benefits that altitude training has to offer, of course. Except for Hesch, he plain doped. Point being is, despite struggling to hit times at altitude that we’re usually accustomed to running, it is great to find affirmation in the few runs we do where the oxygen is plentiful. I know we’re all hopeful to see big gains in our aerobic fitness with four weeks of training in Flagstaff. We’ve sacrificed our sanity, certainly any shallow friendships we may have built prior to coming here, and the busy social lives that Greenville cultivated. But with those sacrifices comes the opportunity to say with full confidence: “Arizona, huh? Yeah, I was there once. That’s the state next to the one where they did ‘Breaking Bad’ right?”

-jackie b.