Running in Frisco

It was a most excellent night watching my friends Ray and Nicole get hitched. Not only that, but the band was phenomenal. Something Underground is a Denver-based band, and happen to be friends of the groom. Lucky for us, because they don't usually do weddings. They play funk, soul, hip-hop, rock & roll, ska, you name it. I heard bits and pieces of the Chili Peppers, Sublime, Tool, Zeppelin, and even Chris Cross (remember those two backwards-pants-wearing mac daddies from the early 90s). All I can say is, it worked, and they kept playing until the place kicked them out.

I wanted to go for a long run, but the weather had crapped out in Steamboat, so I hit the road. It seemed to clear up by the time I neared I-70, so I stopped in Frisco to sample the bike paths that lead to Breckenridge, Copper Mountain, and around Lake Dillon.

Sidenote: I was once derided by a forum know-it-all for using the term, "Frisco" to describe where I'd been over the weekend. Only tourists call it that, he said. Californians call it San Francisco, or maybe San Fran.

Frisco is a town in Colorado, I said. Got the last laugh on that one!

I ran an hour and 35 minutes, mostly on the path toward Breck and on the one around the reservoir. The weather that had seemed nice turned suddenly, and I found myself in a big snowstorm. Twenty minutes later, the sun was breaking through again. This cycle would repeat throughout my run.

Monday I'll take the day off from running, and Tuesday I'll have another try at the Dash & Dine 5k race. Only three more weeks to the Bolder Boulder!