I’ve been off the grid lately. For the past week, I have been in the lovely town of Breckenridge, Colorado for a little R&R and some Christmas cheer with the boy’s Minnesotan family. For the past few years, the boy has suggested that everyone come out for a Colorado Christmas. Because we all know that, “the closest thing to heaven on this planet anywhere, is a quiet Christmas morning in the Colorado snow.” So, why wouldn’t someone want to come out here and stay in a secluded cabin, just outside of Breck, for the most wonderful time of the year? Exactly…
The boy and I had been planning this for a while, and when it all came together, he was quite the happy camper. I know he misses his family, and whenever he speaks of them, it reminds me how much I take for granted the fact that my immediate’s live so close. Half an hour away, close.
Out the Flatlanders come to Colorful Colorado! Just when the Denver Metro area gets hit with a foot of snow! Unfortunately, Breck only got a handful of inches. But what Breck does have is altitude. And while it only rests at 9600 feet, for any sea leveler, this is a huge step out of sissihood; much less when you add in another 1750 feet, for good measure. The house where we stayed was just south of Breck, yet at 11,350 feet total elevation. I even have a hard time breathing.
One of the first days there, I decided to play at awesome and go for a high elevation run. I didn’t get very far. While the weather was mild and the sun was shining, my lungs were on fire and my breathing was like a fish out of water. I called it in after 2 miles. So much for awesome.
Granted, this just toyed with my hopes and dreams of living at higher elevation during the summer months to get in some most excellent training. Maybe one day.
Christmas came and went all too quickly. Before we knew it, the boy and I were alone in Breck. The ride into the Front Range area this morning was a quiet one.
Many fond memories, many yet to make.