From Bear Encounters to 14er Summits: A Week in My Running Shoes
If you’re a runner, you know the dance. Some weeks, every step feels like pure poetry. You hit your paces, the weather aligns, and you feel entirely unstoppable. Other weeks start with a blaring alarm clock, a lingering heatwave, and a heavy dose of hit-the-snooze regret.
This past week was a little bit of both. It was a chaotic, beautiful, and deeply rewarding stretch of days that reminded me why I love this sport: the unpredictable encounters, the healing calm of the trail, and the undeniable thrill of pushing your limits at high altitude.
Here is what a week of chasing trail legs, dodging wildlife, and tackling one of Colorados most iconic peaks actually looked like.
Monday: The Best-Laid Plans (and the Snooze Button)
We’ve all been there. My alarm went off early Monday morning, strictly calculated to give me enough time to crush a morning run before clocking in for work. My dogs were ready, my gear was laid out, and the plan was solid.
Then came the fatal mistake: I snoozed it. Not just once, but enough times to completely derail the morning.
By the time I finally dragged myself out of bed, the sun was already up and the heat was rising fast. It was mid-70s by 6:00 AM, and after a brutal, hot run the day before, I was honestly a little nervous about heat stress. More importantly, it was already way too hot for the dogs to run safely.
Part of training is knowing when to push through discomfort and when to make the smart call. Running in stifling morning heat while rushing against a work clock isn’t grit its just a recipe for a miserable run or heat exhaustion. So, I took the loss, focused on getting ready for work, and resolved to reset for Tuesday.
Tuesday: Exploration, Strava Roulettes, and a Black Bear
Stats:4.38 miles | 46:53.7
Determined to make up for Monday's false start, I woke up Tuesday ready to move. But I hit a mental roadblock: I couldn't stand the thought of running my usual neighborhood loop again. Routine is great for consistency, but for me, monotony is the fastest path to burnout.
To mix things up, I trusted Strava to auto-generate a random 4-mile loop through town that I’d never tried before. Best decision of the week.
Its amazing how much of your own town you miss when you stick to the same familiar routes. I found myself winding through quiet side streets, catching views of neighborhood nooks I’d never seen, and just soaking in the morning air. My legs felt fresh, my mind was engaged, and I was fully in the groove.
Then came the adrenaline spike.
About halfway through the loop, I spotted a black bear up ahead.
Now, living and running near mountain towns means wildlife is part of the package. I know bear safety protocol backward and forward, but encountering one on foot with dogs in tow is a whole different ballgame. Dogs can panic, bark, or trigger a chase response in predators before you even realize what's happening.
Fortunately, luck was on our side. Just as my brain started calculating our exit strategy, a car drove past. The engine noise spooked the bear, and it melted right into the bushes before my dogs even noticed it and before it took any interest in us.
Heart rate elevated? Absolutely. But we kept moving, finished the 4.38 miles feeling strong, and got back home with a great story and intact nerves.
Wednesday: Weather "Bleh" and Recovery
Wednesday was a scheduled off day, and my timing couldn't have been better. The weather turned thick, heavy, and muggy, the kind of oppressive atmosphere that makes you feel like you're walking through soup.
My body felt "bleh," which was a clear signal to lay low, hydrate, and let Tuesdays run absorb. Rest days aren't missed opportunities; they're when the actual strength gets built.
Thursday: Finding My "Trail Legs" on Abyss Trail
Stats:3.21 miles | Guanella Pass
Thursday was all about getting back to what I love most: dirt under my shoes. I headed up to Guanella Pass to tackle a segment of the Abyss Trail.
This was my first real trail run back in a while, and it was pure medicine. Road running is great for pacing and convenience, but trail running demands your full presence. You have to react to rocks, roots, terrain shifts, and elevation changes.
Even though it was a modest 3.21 miles, every single step felt amazing. Moving through the trees, feeling the cool mountain air, and listening to nature instantly washed away whatever residual stress I had been carrying. Nature has an effortless way of clearing out negative headspace and replacing it with quiet perspective.
Cruising up Abyss Trail officially sparked the itch: I need to get my trail legs back for good.
Friday: Active Recovery & Listening to the Body
By Friday, the mileage was catching up to me. I took another rest day from running, opting instead for a short, easy bike ride to keep the legs moving without the high-impact stress of pavement pounding.
During the ride, I noticed a slight tenderness in my left heel.
As runners, its easy to brush off small aches as "nothing," but heel tightness can quickly spiral into nagging issues like plantar fasciitis if you ignore it. I spent the evening stretching, rolling out my calves, and prepping my gear for Saturday knowing I had a massive mountain day waiting for me in the morning.
Saturday: Standing on Top of Pikes Peak (14,115 ft)
If the week started with a sleepy stumble on Monday, Saturday was the absolute grand finale.
I met up with a friend to tackle Pikes Peak, one of Colorados iconic 14ers. Climbing a 14,000-foot peak is never just "a hike it's a physical test of endurance, lung capacity, and mental grit. But from the moment we stepped onto the trail, everything just clicked.
The weather gods completely smiled on us. If you’ve spent any time in the Colorado high country during summer, you know the golden rule: get off the summit before afternoon monsoons roll in. Dark clouds and lightning are constant threats once you cross treeline.
Incredibly, we had zero weather concerns all day. Blue skies, cool breezes, and crisp air carried us all the way up the mountain.
Standing at the summit of Pikes Peak, looking out over the endless mountain range with a good friend, was one of those core-memory days. The physical fatigue of the climb faded into the background, replaced by that distinct high you only get from earned views at 14,000 feet.
It was an absolute blast and standing up there, looking out over the Rockies, I only had one thought running through my head: I need to climb another 14er ASAP.
The Takeaway
Looking back at the week, it was a reminder that progress isn't a straight line. It's a mix of missed morning alarms, unexpected bear encounters on city streets, quiet moments of solace on forest trails, and triumphant moments on high mountain peaks.
If you're in the middle of a training block, don't beat yourself up over the imperfect days. Listen to your body, stay flexible, enjoy the wild encounters, and keep chasing those summit moments.
What did your training week look like? Have you ever had a surprise wildlife encounter on a run? Let me know in the comments below!
