My pursuit of photography coming to a close, this will be the last entry of my journal.
Perhaps I will begin to paint.
It is time to renew my self and the direction of my life.
In dark privacy
days full of action
a thousand things seen
a silent world created
inside my head.
Becoming larger
richer by the day
pictures blossom
then grow ripe.
A season closes
the death of one life
stepping back
remembering
I return to the beginning.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Recovery & Reflection
I am recovering nicely from the Devil's Lake race. I went for a short 2 mile run on Friday and the knee felt a little stiff toward the end. I will try running today.
My hamstring is about 95%, and I don't feel any problem in my foot. Foam rolling the hamstring appears to speed recovery. The first day I rolled it I could feel the muscle breakage and a knot, but each passing day of rolling the breakage and the knot lessened. Yesterday it felt almost normal.
I will most likely not be able to run the Howl 8 hour race in a few weeks, so my desire for training due to the inability to run is on the wane.
Having some extra time this week gave me a chance to pause and reflect on the direction of my life. As my time with photography winds to a close, the old task of finding a meaningful activity is once again upon me. In my early 20's I struggled to find it, but eventually stumbled upon art and photography, which consumed me for 10-12 years. The past 5 years have been off and on. With the disappearance of chemical photography I lost my desire to work with it any longer. Digital pictures are fun, but I can't get myself to take it seriously, maybe because I have not cultivated a love for it.
Being 43 and still relatively healthy, it seems wrong to fritter away my leisure hours. I once had a sense of the importance of time, how no day should be wasted. But not having currently dedicated myself to any pursuit, it is all too easy to just lay around reading or daydreaming. I am dangerously close to losing my sense of work ethic, but I also know that nothing is set in concrete. If I become immoral toward work, with a little effort and luck maybe I can get that sense of fire-tested ethics back into my blood.
I know that there are various periods in any life, and that I cannot always be straddling a mountaintop of positive emotion and good fortune. There will be low points, a dull string of moments which will bring pause for concern and confusion.
With each passing day I know I am coming closer to the end. Van Gogh rode a wave of desolate and mostly lonely work for 10 years, and when it was time to call it quits decided there was nothing worth moving on to, so put an end to his life. Other artists were able to remain at their posts for decades, and thus did not have to face a life after art.
And what exactly does one do when a life of art comes to a close? Art is a high and moral pursuit; also a dangerous one. For me it had to be done privately, in solitude, without letting on what exactly it was that I was doing. 99% of artists don't make a lot of money, yet I have to consider myself fortunate because I did manage to sell the majority of my pictures, and have the odd feeling of knowing that 200-300 of my photographs are floating around somewhere in the world.
Now that the pictures are gone and I am no longer working, it feels like I have never made them at all. It leaves me feeling empty and stupid, and in search of something to do. Running is a purposeful activity, but is a side show, something done for pure pleasure. Perhaps if my body was not always breaking down, I would not mind using 4-5 hours a day running and exercising. But not being able to consistently work at a high intensity, I need to find something else to keep me going.
I need something to dedicate my time to. Before finding art, I had doubts about there being anything for me to do at all. Perhaps I will remain with art, but in a different medium. Maybe it is time to start a life of painting and drawing. All it takes is 10 years. I have a chance to make it to 53, so why not? It is something to consider.....
My hamstring is about 95%, and I don't feel any problem in my foot. Foam rolling the hamstring appears to speed recovery. The first day I rolled it I could feel the muscle breakage and a knot, but each passing day of rolling the breakage and the knot lessened. Yesterday it felt almost normal.
I will most likely not be able to run the Howl 8 hour race in a few weeks, so my desire for training due to the inability to run is on the wane.
Having some extra time this week gave me a chance to pause and reflect on the direction of my life. As my time with photography winds to a close, the old task of finding a meaningful activity is once again upon me. In my early 20's I struggled to find it, but eventually stumbled upon art and photography, which consumed me for 10-12 years. The past 5 years have been off and on. With the disappearance of chemical photography I lost my desire to work with it any longer. Digital pictures are fun, but I can't get myself to take it seriously, maybe because I have not cultivated a love for it.
Being 43 and still relatively healthy, it seems wrong to fritter away my leisure hours. I once had a sense of the importance of time, how no day should be wasted. But not having currently dedicated myself to any pursuit, it is all too easy to just lay around reading or daydreaming. I am dangerously close to losing my sense of work ethic, but I also know that nothing is set in concrete. If I become immoral toward work, with a little effort and luck maybe I can get that sense of fire-tested ethics back into my blood.
I know that there are various periods in any life, and that I cannot always be straddling a mountaintop of positive emotion and good fortune. There will be low points, a dull string of moments which will bring pause for concern and confusion.
With each passing day I know I am coming closer to the end. Van Gogh rode a wave of desolate and mostly lonely work for 10 years, and when it was time to call it quits decided there was nothing worth moving on to, so put an end to his life. Other artists were able to remain at their posts for decades, and thus did not have to face a life after art.
And what exactly does one do when a life of art comes to a close? Art is a high and moral pursuit; also a dangerous one. For me it had to be done privately, in solitude, without letting on what exactly it was that I was doing. 99% of artists don't make a lot of money, yet I have to consider myself fortunate because I did manage to sell the majority of my pictures, and have the odd feeling of knowing that 200-300 of my photographs are floating around somewhere in the world.
Now that the pictures are gone and I am no longer working, it feels like I have never made them at all. It leaves me feeling empty and stupid, and in search of something to do. Running is a purposeful activity, but is a side show, something done for pure pleasure. Perhaps if my body was not always breaking down, I would not mind using 4-5 hours a day running and exercising. But not being able to consistently work at a high intensity, I need to find something else to keep me going.
I need something to dedicate my time to. Before finding art, I had doubts about there being anything for me to do at all. Perhaps I will remain with art, but in a different medium. Maybe it is time to start a life of painting and drawing. All it takes is 10 years. I have a chance to make it to 53, so why not? It is something to consider.....
Monday, July 13, 2009
Sun Dance at Devil's Lake
"The next day the dancing began, and those who were going to take part were ready, for they had been fasting and purifying themselves in the sweat lodges, and praying. First, their bodies were painted by the holy men. Then each would lie down beneath the tree as though he were dead, and the holy men would cut a place in his back or chest, so that a strip of rawhide, fastened to the top of the tree, could be pushed through the flesh and tied. Then the men would get up and dance to the drums, leaning on the rawhide strip as long as he could stand the pain or until the flesh tore loose."
Black Elk
"The Ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of 6,000 years is true, as I have heard from hell. The whole creation will be consumed, and appear infinite, and holy, whereas now it appears finite, and corrupt. This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment. If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is - infinite."
William Blake
At race check-in on Friday evening, the sun skimming the summer hills which surrounded the base camp, I found that the course had been altered. When I returned to the Thunderbird Motel I studied the changes and readied myself for the upcoming battle, a drop into a dark, hellish nightmare.
I awoke at 2:45am to a clap of thunder. I lay patiently, awaiting the arrival of day. When thin lines of pale light slipped through the window shades I washed and dressed, then drove to the start.
I walked around a bit in the fresh mowed field and the dirt road, said a prayer, the insides of my body beginning to glow from a pulsing energy. I positioned myself on the line, and when the Head Goat sounded the bell, began my journey.
50k and marathon participants started together, 100 warriors surging into battle. The field's cool grass chilled my calves as we ran toward the trees, and soon we entered a shadowy forest, the trail narrow and gradually rising. I was in the back of the pack, unable to pass due to the uneven footing and the tall grass beside the path. Most sections of the first mile were walked due to the upward slope. When the path opened a bit I ran, passing, wanting to expend some energy.
We entered the ice age trail, moving toward Devil's Lake. As we neared the first aid station my recovered knee began to feel weak. I was surprised by this because I had done heavy training during the past 2 months with no problems, and I was coming off a 2 week taper of low mileage. Thoughts of not finishing the race began to haunt me, but I tried to keep my composure. 28 miles remained....
After leaving the aid station we returned to the woods, the trail a moderate up and down. The path soon changed from dirt to uneven rock, and I decided that walking or a slow jog was the safe way to cover this short section. After leaving the rocks the trail meandered through a mix of dense prairie and verdant trees. I was feeling happy and ready for a challenge. I looked up at the brilliant, cool blue sky, thankful to be out in the day running and feeling the power of life.
Reaching the 2nd aid station at mile 6, I stopped to retrieve my drop bag. The course would eventually loop back to this aid station at mile 20, so I stuffed a couple of gels in my pocket, drank a v8, sucked down 2 spoonfuls of honey, and continued on to Devil's Lake.
After 2 miles of easy running I entered the park campground, which was well marked. The campground roads were hilly and I meandered around until reaching the Lake Aid station.
By now my knee had begun to ache and feel stiff, and I considered dropping out of the race. The idea of quitting while I was still able to move forward did not seem right. The run had now become more than a battle with the course and my overall fitness, from this point until mile 26 I was to run in constant pain. How was I going to react to this challenge, would my resolve crumble, my mind break into a complaining nag? I was curious to know how everything would turn.
As I left the aid station and passed the park headquarters, it occurred to me that this could be my last race in a while. I came to a steep paved road. The runners around me were walking, and I would have liked to walk also, but I discovered that running hills hurt less than walking them, so I ran intermittently, walking only to catch my breath and give my legs a rest.
When the road section came to an end we entered a trail of stone steps which led us to the top of the bluff. The views of the ever diminishing lake were inspiring, and some runners stopped to stretch, take pictures, and enjoy the moment. By this time I was trying my best to run with the pain, allowing it to be, and not be overly concerned about it. I was determined to enjoy the challenges of the day, and pain was now a part of it. Accepting it seemed to be the best idea.
Fortunately my fitness level appeared equal to the course, as my breathing was steady and leg strength on the hills solid. As I worked my way slowly to the top of the bluff I remembered the Sioux sun dance mentioned in the book Black Elk Speaks. Pain was a purifier, a way to a better understanding of the self and the world - today was my sun dance.
Another recurring thought was hell and nightmares. Even though I was surrounded by the beauty and calmness of nature, attempting to run long distance on the rugged terrain made things appear in cold black and white. At any moment my energy could evaporate, leaving me with a recurring dream I have of running slow as a turtle.
It may appear that the pain and morbid thoughts were a drag on my psyche, but the intensity of the run thus far had brought on a seriousness and focus which made everything seem light and happy. I love the music of Mahler, and on the finale of his 8th symphony were the words "to be serious is the greatest joy". Amen to that.....
I am not sure how long the bluff run was, it felt like miles, but in reality it was probably less than a mile. Before reaching the top a few runners passed us going the opposite direction. As this part of the course was not a loop, someone was going the wrong way. Had the dreaded "getting lost at a DWD race" happened to me?
A runner close by spoke out, "I studied this route precisely, I know we are going the wrong way. This is my first marathon - damn!" I also had thoroughly studied the course, but my conclusion was that we were going the correct way, by reason of how could so many people be running in the wrong direction?
Topping out on the bluff, I stopped a brief moment to look at the lake below. I decided I wanted to return to this place another time for some hiking and relaxation. As I moved away from the viewing boulders, that comforting thought disappeared, replaced by concentration upon my footwork to navigate safely down the rocky bluff.
After leaving the rocks I turned onto a descending dirt/gravel road. I watched a man in his 60's chugging along not far from me. I had the desire to go faster and allow gravity to increase my pace, but my knee prevented the attempt. When I got off the road I crossed one of the park highways and then headed into an overgrown field of weeds. The tall grass made it difficult to see the uneven ground, but I did a good job picking up my pace without falling.
After leaving the field I turned into a trail-less woods. Numerous pink flags marked the correct direction to proceed, but as I had caught up with 3 runners, I simply followed as we jumped over fallen trees and big rocks, and got scratched from thorn bushes. The leader of our forest running group was walking most of the time because the footing was poor, so I also walked, having no desire to attempt a pass.
Mile 13 and the Burma Road aid station was approaching, but I had lost interest in miles and time. All that mattered now was to keep moving, watching the sun and sky, drinking and eating - to run long and love it.
About 1/2 mile from Burma Road I started to run with ease, the speed increasing, I passed several runners and followed a young woman into the aid station, which was set up in a shadowless prairie. The day was getting warmer, so I poured some water on my head, downed a gel, and eyed some cut potatoes. In various race reports which I have read, aid station potatoes are usually eaten reluctantly because of their poor taste. I was feeling the need for salt, so I decided to try one. Expecting a raw, hard piece of nastiness, I was pleasantly surprised as I bit into the soft, salty tuber.
Feeling a bit cooler and rested, I left Burma Road and headed into another trail-less woods for more log hopping and stone stepping, my legs getting more cuts from thorny plants. I crossed a road and continued going down, and finally arrived at the shore of Devil's Lake. The shoreline was a narrow, weaving slab of asphalt which wended through various sized boulders. The sun slanted across the shining rocks and made me squint. I could see 4 or 5 runners ahead of me, and I tried to maintain a moderate to quick pace as it was mostly flat. I did not care for this part of the run so much because there was no shade, and the trail surface was hard on my feet. I was happy when it came to an end and I returned to the Lake Aid station, mile 15.4.
I tried to take my time at the station as I had overheated. I drank some water, poured it on my skin, ate another potato and pretzels. I watched some of the runners get quickly in and out of the station, but I did not want to rush, so I rested and stretched for a minute or two. The run was half over, and I was hanging in there - appetite was good, no blisters. I had peed only once, which I have learned is normal for my body. In warm weather I don't pee, no matter how much I drink. It is what it is....
I left the aid station somewhat refreshed and started running to the other side of the lake for more bluff climbing. I got onto a dirt road that ascended for what seemed like a long time. I passed some runners here as it felt better to run than walk. One of the runners I had passed at the beginning of the road cruised by me near the top, maybe my running had inspired him? He looked strong.
When the road came to an end I turned onto a rocky bluff which looked similar to the bluff I had climbed earlier. For a few minutes I thought I had taken an incorrect turn and was on the wrong bluff, but as I climbed upwards on the rocky steps I saw a few transcendent boulder formations that were one of a kind. Maybe this is where the devil hangs out? By now, approaching mile 18, I had gotten used to the pain in the knee, it was a part of me, like a crooked finger or blackened toe nail - not pretty, but I am comfortable with it, and it seems normal.
While obviously not running my best, I had still managed to achieve a trance running state - time evaporates like water on a hot skillet, running feels easier than sitting in a plush recliner, the slide show is set to automatic, and the beauty of the world flashes like a neon sign out front of a transient hotel.
Reaching the top of the bluff, I arrived at the South Bluff aid Station. Post-race the Head Goat wrote, I have to believe the South Bluff aid station was the most dramatic setting of any aid station in the world, I hope ya had a second to take it in ...
Running down the rocks and entering a sun drenched field, I could feel my quads on edge. I was dangerously close to reaching the point of no return, where the legs give out and refuse to get back into running mode. Fearful of having to walk the final 12 miles, I slowed down a bit, calmed my breathing, and made it to the Steinke Basin aid station at mile 20, where I accessed my drop bag for the second and last time. I made sure to rest and regain the strength in my legs. I drank 2 cans of V8, ate sea salt potato chips, slugged a gel followed by honey and water. I walked to the aid table and ate a potato chunk and pretzels, then soaked my head, arms and legs with water.
As I stood in the hot prairie sun, the water on me evaporating, a female runner looking dazed and confused asked me if she would be returning to her drop bag. I asked what distance she was running and if this was her 2nd time at the station, but she replied "I don't even know anymore". She needed one of those salted potatoes, fast.
As I got ready to resume my run, I thought "I don't want this to end, I am having too much fun".
I was now running the first two legs of the race in reverse, 6 miles back to the start, which was to be followed by a 5 mile loop up and down snow-less ski slopes. A little more than 4 hours had passed, so the sun was gettin' up in the sky, relentlessly throwing down its summer heat. Yeah, it felt good!
In a stretch of uphill prairie I was following a guy in his 60's. He was moving slow, but so was I because I could not pass him. I stopped and leaned on a small tree, did some side leg lifts, stretched my calves, then caught a burst of energy and soon passed the guy, running pretty hard into the Rave aid station. I ate pbj slices and potatoes, mmmm. The guy came in, then quickly left, while I was still stuffing my face with food. I was starved, which I felt was a good sign. I was still waiting to pee, though.....
The lovely female aid station workers told me, "be careful on the upcoming trail, it will be easy to trip with tired legs." I heeded their call, but knew a slight lapse in concentration could have me eating dirt or laying unconscious on a smooth stepping stone.
By this time I had passed and been re-passed by the same 5 or 6 runners all morning. Now again I came upon 2 guys and 2 girls who I had been running with a few times previously. I tucked in line and we followed a tricky single track. My allergies were getting bad so whenever I had to blow snot out of my nose I would slow down and get further behind so as not to offend the runners ahead of me.
I was starting to feel good again, my quads had recovered, and I was moving with a quick ease. We got into the final aid station before the start/finish line and once again I was the last to leave. I liked the potatoes too much and did not like to rush.
The final 2 miles were downhill on the ice age trail. The path was rooted and rocky, narrow and twisting. It was easier going uphill on fresh legs, but with the end in sight for the marathon runners, the speed and intensity was picking up. A guy in front me yelled out in pain and fell in a heap against a tree. I stopped and gave him some encouragement and help. He had suffered a severe leg cramp and could not stand. I stayed with him for a few minutes, along with another runner, until he could stand and smile. The other runner helping said, "what a shame, your dirty and your shirt is ripped." "This is nothing, you should see the runners when they are coming down the trail at Leadville". Indeed....
5 minutes later, at mile 25, I heard a scream from behind and I turned back to see a lady laying on the ground, grasping her calf. I went back to her and she said she had a calf spasm. I stayed with her a minute or two until she was able to stand.
Before getting to the end of the trail I tripped twice on roots, but had luckily balanced myself to avoid falling. 200m from the finish area was an aid station for the 50k runners, as we still had 5 miles to go. I once again took my time, eating potatoes and a gel, filling my bottle, splashing water on my head. With no more aid stations and probably another hour of running, I wanted to make sure I had enough energy to finish without bonking.
I left the aid station with the 2 guys and 2 girls who I had followed earlier. We got onto a wide, grassy ski slope, going up. We walked most of this section, and for the first time since mile 7, my knee no longer hurt. I felt relief, and wanted to start running before it started hurting again. After 2 miles of slugging along like a turtle, potato power must have kicked in, because I felt fresh as a daisy. I passed the line of 4 runners, the front girl turned to me and jokingly said "want to race?" "Noooo, I know the end is near, and I want to make sure I have nothing left at the finish". "There you go", and go I did.
I got up to 10k speed and held it for the final 3 miles. I passed 8 runners in about 10 minutes. One girl heard me fast approaching and turned around to look at me with disgust. Her expression made me laugh, she must have took me to be a relay runner who had gotten lost? I did not give her time to tell me to %#$@ off because I passed her quickly and soon was out of sight.
The empty, abandoned ski slopes were creepy and forlorn, with lonely, black chairs hanging ghost-like in the silence. I thought of those 70's slasher flicks and would not have been surprised to see a man wearing a hockey mask with axe in hand.
On the final 400m downhill I could not slow down due to the steepness, and my right hamstring spasmed, while at the same time my left foot landed too hard on the ground. I was able to keep the pace though, and in the final 800m picked up even faster.
With 400m to the finish I saw a runner staggering along. I was going to pass him too close to the finish - that was not right, but I was not going to slow down for that reason. When I passed him, spectators were ringing bells and cheering, and the runner must have got pissed because he passed me with 100m to go, no way I was going to catch him, he was a good sprinter! I was happy that he had crossed the line first, and as we slowed to a stop I slapped his hand, smiled, and said "I wanted to make you work for it!" We had crossed the finish together 6 hours and 22 minutes after starting this heaven and hellish adventure.
I was bent over, breathing heavy as if I had just completed a 5k. My knee was shot, hamstring sore, foot derailed, thighs ripped from thorn bushes, but I felt refreshed and not very tired. I wanted to keep running, but knew the race was over. I let out a sigh and went searching for a boiled potato.
Black Elk
"The Ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of 6,000 years is true, as I have heard from hell. The whole creation will be consumed, and appear infinite, and holy, whereas now it appears finite, and corrupt. This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment. If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is - infinite."
William Blake
At race check-in on Friday evening, the sun skimming the summer hills which surrounded the base camp, I found that the course had been altered. When I returned to the Thunderbird Motel I studied the changes and readied myself for the upcoming battle, a drop into a dark, hellish nightmare.
I awoke at 2:45am to a clap of thunder. I lay patiently, awaiting the arrival of day. When thin lines of pale light slipped through the window shades I washed and dressed, then drove to the start.
I walked around a bit in the fresh mowed field and the dirt road, said a prayer, the insides of my body beginning to glow from a pulsing energy. I positioned myself on the line, and when the Head Goat sounded the bell, began my journey.
50k and marathon participants started together, 100 warriors surging into battle. The field's cool grass chilled my calves as we ran toward the trees, and soon we entered a shadowy forest, the trail narrow and gradually rising. I was in the back of the pack, unable to pass due to the uneven footing and the tall grass beside the path. Most sections of the first mile were walked due to the upward slope. When the path opened a bit I ran, passing, wanting to expend some energy.
We entered the ice age trail, moving toward Devil's Lake. As we neared the first aid station my recovered knee began to feel weak. I was surprised by this because I had done heavy training during the past 2 months with no problems, and I was coming off a 2 week taper of low mileage. Thoughts of not finishing the race began to haunt me, but I tried to keep my composure. 28 miles remained....
After leaving the aid station we returned to the woods, the trail a moderate up and down. The path soon changed from dirt to uneven rock, and I decided that walking or a slow jog was the safe way to cover this short section. After leaving the rocks the trail meandered through a mix of dense prairie and verdant trees. I was feeling happy and ready for a challenge. I looked up at the brilliant, cool blue sky, thankful to be out in the day running and feeling the power of life.
Reaching the 2nd aid station at mile 6, I stopped to retrieve my drop bag. The course would eventually loop back to this aid station at mile 20, so I stuffed a couple of gels in my pocket, drank a v8, sucked down 2 spoonfuls of honey, and continued on to Devil's Lake.
After 2 miles of easy running I entered the park campground, which was well marked. The campground roads were hilly and I meandered around until reaching the Lake Aid station.
By now my knee had begun to ache and feel stiff, and I considered dropping out of the race. The idea of quitting while I was still able to move forward did not seem right. The run had now become more than a battle with the course and my overall fitness, from this point until mile 26 I was to run in constant pain. How was I going to react to this challenge, would my resolve crumble, my mind break into a complaining nag? I was curious to know how everything would turn.
As I left the aid station and passed the park headquarters, it occurred to me that this could be my last race in a while. I came to a steep paved road. The runners around me were walking, and I would have liked to walk also, but I discovered that running hills hurt less than walking them, so I ran intermittently, walking only to catch my breath and give my legs a rest.
When the road section came to an end we entered a trail of stone steps which led us to the top of the bluff. The views of the ever diminishing lake were inspiring, and some runners stopped to stretch, take pictures, and enjoy the moment. By this time I was trying my best to run with the pain, allowing it to be, and not be overly concerned about it. I was determined to enjoy the challenges of the day, and pain was now a part of it. Accepting it seemed to be the best idea.
Fortunately my fitness level appeared equal to the course, as my breathing was steady and leg strength on the hills solid. As I worked my way slowly to the top of the bluff I remembered the Sioux sun dance mentioned in the book Black Elk Speaks. Pain was a purifier, a way to a better understanding of the self and the world - today was my sun dance.
Another recurring thought was hell and nightmares. Even though I was surrounded by the beauty and calmness of nature, attempting to run long distance on the rugged terrain made things appear in cold black and white. At any moment my energy could evaporate, leaving me with a recurring dream I have of running slow as a turtle.
It may appear that the pain and morbid thoughts were a drag on my psyche, but the intensity of the run thus far had brought on a seriousness and focus which made everything seem light and happy. I love the music of Mahler, and on the finale of his 8th symphony were the words "to be serious is the greatest joy". Amen to that.....
I am not sure how long the bluff run was, it felt like miles, but in reality it was probably less than a mile. Before reaching the top a few runners passed us going the opposite direction. As this part of the course was not a loop, someone was going the wrong way. Had the dreaded "getting lost at a DWD race" happened to me?
A runner close by spoke out, "I studied this route precisely, I know we are going the wrong way. This is my first marathon - damn!" I also had thoroughly studied the course, but my conclusion was that we were going the correct way, by reason of how could so many people be running in the wrong direction?
Topping out on the bluff, I stopped a brief moment to look at the lake below. I decided I wanted to return to this place another time for some hiking and relaxation. As I moved away from the viewing boulders, that comforting thought disappeared, replaced by concentration upon my footwork to navigate safely down the rocky bluff.
After leaving the rocks I turned onto a descending dirt/gravel road. I watched a man in his 60's chugging along not far from me. I had the desire to go faster and allow gravity to increase my pace, but my knee prevented the attempt. When I got off the road I crossed one of the park highways and then headed into an overgrown field of weeds. The tall grass made it difficult to see the uneven ground, but I did a good job picking up my pace without falling.
After leaving the field I turned into a trail-less woods. Numerous pink flags marked the correct direction to proceed, but as I had caught up with 3 runners, I simply followed as we jumped over fallen trees and big rocks, and got scratched from thorn bushes. The leader of our forest running group was walking most of the time because the footing was poor, so I also walked, having no desire to attempt a pass.
Mile 13 and the Burma Road aid station was approaching, but I had lost interest in miles and time. All that mattered now was to keep moving, watching the sun and sky, drinking and eating - to run long and love it.
About 1/2 mile from Burma Road I started to run with ease, the speed increasing, I passed several runners and followed a young woman into the aid station, which was set up in a shadowless prairie. The day was getting warmer, so I poured some water on my head, downed a gel, and eyed some cut potatoes. In various race reports which I have read, aid station potatoes are usually eaten reluctantly because of their poor taste. I was feeling the need for salt, so I decided to try one. Expecting a raw, hard piece of nastiness, I was pleasantly surprised as I bit into the soft, salty tuber.
Feeling a bit cooler and rested, I left Burma Road and headed into another trail-less woods for more log hopping and stone stepping, my legs getting more cuts from thorny plants. I crossed a road and continued going down, and finally arrived at the shore of Devil's Lake. The shoreline was a narrow, weaving slab of asphalt which wended through various sized boulders. The sun slanted across the shining rocks and made me squint. I could see 4 or 5 runners ahead of me, and I tried to maintain a moderate to quick pace as it was mostly flat. I did not care for this part of the run so much because there was no shade, and the trail surface was hard on my feet. I was happy when it came to an end and I returned to the Lake Aid station, mile 15.4.
I tried to take my time at the station as I had overheated. I drank some water, poured it on my skin, ate another potato and pretzels. I watched some of the runners get quickly in and out of the station, but I did not want to rush, so I rested and stretched for a minute or two. The run was half over, and I was hanging in there - appetite was good, no blisters. I had peed only once, which I have learned is normal for my body. In warm weather I don't pee, no matter how much I drink. It is what it is....
I left the aid station somewhat refreshed and started running to the other side of the lake for more bluff climbing. I got onto a dirt road that ascended for what seemed like a long time. I passed some runners here as it felt better to run than walk. One of the runners I had passed at the beginning of the road cruised by me near the top, maybe my running had inspired him? He looked strong.
When the road came to an end I turned onto a rocky bluff which looked similar to the bluff I had climbed earlier. For a few minutes I thought I had taken an incorrect turn and was on the wrong bluff, but as I climbed upwards on the rocky steps I saw a few transcendent boulder formations that were one of a kind. Maybe this is where the devil hangs out? By now, approaching mile 18, I had gotten used to the pain in the knee, it was a part of me, like a crooked finger or blackened toe nail - not pretty, but I am comfortable with it, and it seems normal.
While obviously not running my best, I had still managed to achieve a trance running state - time evaporates like water on a hot skillet, running feels easier than sitting in a plush recliner, the slide show is set to automatic, and the beauty of the world flashes like a neon sign out front of a transient hotel.
Reaching the top of the bluff, I arrived at the South Bluff aid Station. Post-race the Head Goat wrote, I have to believe the South Bluff aid station was the most dramatic setting of any aid station in the world, I hope ya had a second to take it in ...
Running down the rocks and entering a sun drenched field, I could feel my quads on edge. I was dangerously close to reaching the point of no return, where the legs give out and refuse to get back into running mode. Fearful of having to walk the final 12 miles, I slowed down a bit, calmed my breathing, and made it to the Steinke Basin aid station at mile 20, where I accessed my drop bag for the second and last time. I made sure to rest and regain the strength in my legs. I drank 2 cans of V8, ate sea salt potato chips, slugged a gel followed by honey and water. I walked to the aid table and ate a potato chunk and pretzels, then soaked my head, arms and legs with water.
As I stood in the hot prairie sun, the water on me evaporating, a female runner looking dazed and confused asked me if she would be returning to her drop bag. I asked what distance she was running and if this was her 2nd time at the station, but she replied "I don't even know anymore". She needed one of those salted potatoes, fast.
As I got ready to resume my run, I thought "I don't want this to end, I am having too much fun".
I was now running the first two legs of the race in reverse, 6 miles back to the start, which was to be followed by a 5 mile loop up and down snow-less ski slopes. A little more than 4 hours had passed, so the sun was gettin' up in the sky, relentlessly throwing down its summer heat. Yeah, it felt good!
In a stretch of uphill prairie I was following a guy in his 60's. He was moving slow, but so was I because I could not pass him. I stopped and leaned on a small tree, did some side leg lifts, stretched my calves, then caught a burst of energy and soon passed the guy, running pretty hard into the Rave aid station. I ate pbj slices and potatoes, mmmm. The guy came in, then quickly left, while I was still stuffing my face with food. I was starved, which I felt was a good sign. I was still waiting to pee, though.....
The lovely female aid station workers told me, "be careful on the upcoming trail, it will be easy to trip with tired legs." I heeded their call, but knew a slight lapse in concentration could have me eating dirt or laying unconscious on a smooth stepping stone.
By this time I had passed and been re-passed by the same 5 or 6 runners all morning. Now again I came upon 2 guys and 2 girls who I had been running with a few times previously. I tucked in line and we followed a tricky single track. My allergies were getting bad so whenever I had to blow snot out of my nose I would slow down and get further behind so as not to offend the runners ahead of me.
I was starting to feel good again, my quads had recovered, and I was moving with a quick ease. We got into the final aid station before the start/finish line and once again I was the last to leave. I liked the potatoes too much and did not like to rush.
The final 2 miles were downhill on the ice age trail. The path was rooted and rocky, narrow and twisting. It was easier going uphill on fresh legs, but with the end in sight for the marathon runners, the speed and intensity was picking up. A guy in front me yelled out in pain and fell in a heap against a tree. I stopped and gave him some encouragement and help. He had suffered a severe leg cramp and could not stand. I stayed with him for a few minutes, along with another runner, until he could stand and smile. The other runner helping said, "what a shame, your dirty and your shirt is ripped." "This is nothing, you should see the runners when they are coming down the trail at Leadville". Indeed....
5 minutes later, at mile 25, I heard a scream from behind and I turned back to see a lady laying on the ground, grasping her calf. I went back to her and she said she had a calf spasm. I stayed with her a minute or two until she was able to stand.
Before getting to the end of the trail I tripped twice on roots, but had luckily balanced myself to avoid falling. 200m from the finish area was an aid station for the 50k runners, as we still had 5 miles to go. I once again took my time, eating potatoes and a gel, filling my bottle, splashing water on my head. With no more aid stations and probably another hour of running, I wanted to make sure I had enough energy to finish without bonking.
I left the aid station with the 2 guys and 2 girls who I had followed earlier. We got onto a wide, grassy ski slope, going up. We walked most of this section, and for the first time since mile 7, my knee no longer hurt. I felt relief, and wanted to start running before it started hurting again. After 2 miles of slugging along like a turtle, potato power must have kicked in, because I felt fresh as a daisy. I passed the line of 4 runners, the front girl turned to me and jokingly said "want to race?" "Noooo, I know the end is near, and I want to make sure I have nothing left at the finish". "There you go", and go I did.
I got up to 10k speed and held it for the final 3 miles. I passed 8 runners in about 10 minutes. One girl heard me fast approaching and turned around to look at me with disgust. Her expression made me laugh, she must have took me to be a relay runner who had gotten lost? I did not give her time to tell me to %#$@ off because I passed her quickly and soon was out of sight.
The empty, abandoned ski slopes were creepy and forlorn, with lonely, black chairs hanging ghost-like in the silence. I thought of those 70's slasher flicks and would not have been surprised to see a man wearing a hockey mask with axe in hand.
On the final 400m downhill I could not slow down due to the steepness, and my right hamstring spasmed, while at the same time my left foot landed too hard on the ground. I was able to keep the pace though, and in the final 800m picked up even faster.
With 400m to the finish I saw a runner staggering along. I was going to pass him too close to the finish - that was not right, but I was not going to slow down for that reason. When I passed him, spectators were ringing bells and cheering, and the runner must have got pissed because he passed me with 100m to go, no way I was going to catch him, he was a good sprinter! I was happy that he had crossed the line first, and as we slowed to a stop I slapped his hand, smiled, and said "I wanted to make you work for it!" We had crossed the finish together 6 hours and 22 minutes after starting this heaven and hellish adventure.
I was bent over, breathing heavy as if I had just completed a 5k. My knee was shot, hamstring sore, foot derailed, thighs ripped from thorn bushes, but I felt refreshed and not very tired. I wanted to keep running, but knew the race was over. I let out a sigh and went searching for a boiled potato.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
In 3 or 4 Days
Just returned from a refreshing adventure in Cumberland Falls, Kentucky - hiking, light running (I'm supposed to be tapering a bit), square dancing, and watching the moonbow - lots of fun.
When I was resting in my lodge room I studied the Devil's Lake 50k race packet. I have read many race reports about the DWD series of races, and most include an angry snippet about getting lost in the woods. With this in mind I have made sure to memorize the course map, knowing the sequence of aid stations/legs, the elevation gains and losses, the half way point, and the danger spots for getting lost (the campground at mile 10 and the off trail section at miles 13-18).
While my fitness is still building to its peak, which I am hoping will be reached in the month of August, I am feeling good about this Saturday's race. My legs are fresh, I have 5 or 6 speed sessions under my belt to go along with many medium and long distance slogs run under the summer sun. I am heat acclimatized, distance ready, and my mental focus is sharp and ready for the challenge.
The only weak point in the game plan is my right knee. While it is 99% healed, it is not its old self, and perhaps may never be. It has thus far survived all of my hard training, so it is time to put it to the test. If I am not to finish this race the most likely reason will be the knee breaking down. I am not much concerned about the other factors. Heat, poison ivy, ticks, mosquitoes, humidity, bruises, extreme fatigue, steep hills and bluffs, getting lost - I want to be challenged by these things, placing my running spirit into the fire of pain and suffering, to live in the moment of the trial, and to perhaps emerge stronger, better, more authentic, at peace with the universe and the uncertainty of life and death.
The ultra race run as a micro version of an intense ordeal, a war, a nightmare which eventually blossoms into a sunny, reality filled day - a moving meditation, a circling of the sun, the heart, the cell - an atom of life.
in 3 or 4 days - Wim Mertens
Hiking the Cumberland, No. 1
Hiking the Cumberland, No. 2
Hiking the Cumberland, No. 3,
The Ascent
Hiking the Cumberland, No. 4,
Fungus
Fungus
When I was resting in my lodge room I studied the Devil's Lake 50k race packet. I have read many race reports about the DWD series of races, and most include an angry snippet about getting lost in the woods. With this in mind I have made sure to memorize the course map, knowing the sequence of aid stations/legs, the elevation gains and losses, the half way point, and the danger spots for getting lost (the campground at mile 10 and the off trail section at miles 13-18).
While my fitness is still building to its peak, which I am hoping will be reached in the month of August, I am feeling good about this Saturday's race. My legs are fresh, I have 5 or 6 speed sessions under my belt to go along with many medium and long distance slogs run under the summer sun. I am heat acclimatized, distance ready, and my mental focus is sharp and ready for the challenge.
The only weak point in the game plan is my right knee. While it is 99% healed, it is not its old self, and perhaps may never be. It has thus far survived all of my hard training, so it is time to put it to the test. If I am not to finish this race the most likely reason will be the knee breaking down. I am not much concerned about the other factors. Heat, poison ivy, ticks, mosquitoes, humidity, bruises, extreme fatigue, steep hills and bluffs, getting lost - I want to be challenged by these things, placing my running spirit into the fire of pain and suffering, to live in the moment of the trial, and to perhaps emerge stronger, better, more authentic, at peace with the universe and the uncertainty of life and death.
The ultra race run as a micro version of an intense ordeal, a war, a nightmare which eventually blossoms into a sunny, reality filled day - a moving meditation, a circling of the sun, the heart, the cell - an atom of life.
in 3 or 4 days - Wim Mertens
Sunday, June 28, 2009
90.5 Miles, 7.5 Pounds, and 2 Weeks
Had a strong week of running/training. Total mileage was 90.50 on 7 runs of 16, 18.50, 3.50,16, 5, 3, and 28.50.
The week started off with the solstice challenge, and I was able to spend 95% of the day outdoors, part of the hours being spent running 16 miles.
The next day I felt strong so put in one of my best hill sessions, running up and down at the arboretum for 2 hours and 45 minutes.
I took an easy day of 3.5 miles on Tuesday.
Wednesday was another high point session, as I ran 16 miles, with a track session thrown in the middle of the workout. At the track I completed 4 x 1200m in 5:15, 5:02, 4:58, and 4:45. I was proud that I was able to run a track session without giving too much effort. It was faster than normal running, yet, the intensity ranged from 60-80%, which left me feeling strong and pleasantly fatigued. After the track session I was feeling good enough to run a shortened South Farms loop of 8 miles.
Thursday and Friday were recovery days of 5 and 3 miles.
And yesterday I ran the best long run effort of my life, covering 28.5 miles in a mere 7 hours :) I did take some short breaks along the way when I passed the monkey bars to do some pullups and dips, and when adding in the refueling and water breaks, along with 90 + degree heat/high humidity, I actually was not as slow as it appears. But it was gentle enough to allow me to wake up this morning not feeling stiff or sore, as if I had done 8 miles instead of 28.
When I weighed in this morning I was happy to see that I have lost 7.5 pounds since I started running again back in late April. I am still a couple of pounds over racing weight, but I am moving in the right direction.
With the Devil's Lake 50k two weeks away, I feel strong and ready to run. There isn't much need for a taper because I currently feel fresh and energetic. I will just keep running as I feel. I am having too much fun to take a break :)
The week started off with the solstice challenge, and I was able to spend 95% of the day outdoors, part of the hours being spent running 16 miles.
The next day I felt strong so put in one of my best hill sessions, running up and down at the arboretum for 2 hours and 45 minutes.
I took an easy day of 3.5 miles on Tuesday.
Wednesday was another high point session, as I ran 16 miles, with a track session thrown in the middle of the workout. At the track I completed 4 x 1200m in 5:15, 5:02, 4:58, and 4:45. I was proud that I was able to run a track session without giving too much effort. It was faster than normal running, yet, the intensity ranged from 60-80%, which left me feeling strong and pleasantly fatigued. After the track session I was feeling good enough to run a shortened South Farms loop of 8 miles.
Thursday and Friday were recovery days of 5 and 3 miles.
And yesterday I ran the best long run effort of my life, covering 28.5 miles in a mere 7 hours :) I did take some short breaks along the way when I passed the monkey bars to do some pullups and dips, and when adding in the refueling and water breaks, along with 90 + degree heat/high humidity, I actually was not as slow as it appears. But it was gentle enough to allow me to wake up this morning not feeling stiff or sore, as if I had done 8 miles instead of 28.
When I weighed in this morning I was happy to see that I have lost 7.5 pounds since I started running again back in late April. I am still a couple of pounds over racing weight, but I am moving in the right direction.
With the Devil's Lake 50k two weeks away, I feel strong and ready to run. There isn't much need for a taper because I currently feel fresh and energetic. I will just keep running as I feel. I am having too much fun to take a break :)
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Trance Running
When I ran the hill on Monday for 2:45 I was wearing my Puma minimalist shoes. They are comfortable and give me the impression that I am running barefoot. I decided not to wear socks, which is a risk because when I run sockless some part of my foot usually gets rubbed raw. This time it was the back of my left heel which turned red from friction. During the last third of the session it gave me one more thing to think about as I slugged my way up and down in the heat.
Last year this kind of thing would have caused me to stop, no need to have a big cut on my foot, how will that help in any way? This year I welcomed the challenge of running with a burning heel. As I try to change and work myself into an ultra runner, one of the things I need to learn is how to run with blisters and superficial foot pain.
The many ultra race reports which I have read usually mention the discomfort of blisters. The report usually contains pictures of the offending foot, and it makes me wonder - how did they finish the race being in that kind of pain? The two ultras I have completed did not cause blisters, most likely because they were finished in under 6 hours. As I hope to eventually run 50 and 100 mile races, I, too, will have to learn to run with blistered feet.
So as I ran the hill I was given a chance to practice running with a cut on my heel. If I believed the cut would lead to serious damage I would have stopped, but it was just broken skin that got a little more broken with each step. The cut gave me the opportunity to work on the mental aspect of running long. I found that I was still able to get into a running trance, and this allowed me to run freely and with pleasure.
One of my favorite things about running long is getting into a trance-like state. Time speeds up, and an hour of running seems like 15 minutes. I feel I can run for hours without getting tired, and when I look up at the sun am surprised to see how fast it is sliding down into the west. 3 hours seems like a lark, and it is this kind of trance that I would love to get into during a long race. If I can get myself into the zone, an 8 hour run will seem like 4 or 5. When I ran the Riddle Run in snow and cold, I was in and out of a trance for most of the race. When I finished it seemed as if it was just getting started.
One of the things which helps hasten the trance state of being is music. Running is capable of putting me into the cross-over mode, but the combination of music and running is more potent. During the first or second loop of the Riddle Run I listened to a 45 minute piece called Disintegration Loops. I had been listening to this song out on the South Farms route during the winter long runs and knew it had the power to put me into a good place. It got me off to a good start at Riddle Run, and allowed me to get into a solid trance.
Music, the rhythmic movement of running legs, the rotation of the earth around the sun, the moon cruising the sky, birds riding the wind, sweat dancing on the skin, heart pulsing, warm blood flowing, an endless stream of beautiful images entering my eyes - it all comes together, an alchemical mixture similar to the toning of a photograph, the end result being a unique run through the universe, never to happen again in quite the same way.
Last year this kind of thing would have caused me to stop, no need to have a big cut on my foot, how will that help in any way? This year I welcomed the challenge of running with a burning heel. As I try to change and work myself into an ultra runner, one of the things I need to learn is how to run with blisters and superficial foot pain.
The many ultra race reports which I have read usually mention the discomfort of blisters. The report usually contains pictures of the offending foot, and it makes me wonder - how did they finish the race being in that kind of pain? The two ultras I have completed did not cause blisters, most likely because they were finished in under 6 hours. As I hope to eventually run 50 and 100 mile races, I, too, will have to learn to run with blistered feet.
So as I ran the hill I was given a chance to practice running with a cut on my heel. If I believed the cut would lead to serious damage I would have stopped, but it was just broken skin that got a little more broken with each step. The cut gave me the opportunity to work on the mental aspect of running long. I found that I was still able to get into a running trance, and this allowed me to run freely and with pleasure.
One of my favorite things about running long is getting into a trance-like state. Time speeds up, and an hour of running seems like 15 minutes. I feel I can run for hours without getting tired, and when I look up at the sun am surprised to see how fast it is sliding down into the west. 3 hours seems like a lark, and it is this kind of trance that I would love to get into during a long race. If I can get myself into the zone, an 8 hour run will seem like 4 or 5. When I ran the Riddle Run in snow and cold, I was in and out of a trance for most of the race. When I finished it seemed as if it was just getting started.
One of the things which helps hasten the trance state of being is music. Running is capable of putting me into the cross-over mode, but the combination of music and running is more potent. During the first or second loop of the Riddle Run I listened to a 45 minute piece called Disintegration Loops. I had been listening to this song out on the South Farms route during the winter long runs and knew it had the power to put me into a good place. It got me off to a good start at Riddle Run, and allowed me to get into a solid trance.
Music, the rhythmic movement of running legs, the rotation of the earth around the sun, the moon cruising the sky, birds riding the wind, sweat dancing on the skin, heart pulsing, warm blood flowing, an endless stream of beautiful images entering my eyes - it all comes together, an alchemical mixture similar to the toning of a photograph, the end result being a unique run through the universe, never to happen again in quite the same way.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Feeling 21
The past two days have given me a ton of confidence about the upcoming ultra races in July and August.
The solstice was a success, I spent 95% of the day outdoors, the indoor activities were eating Indian food and a 20 minute bath after biking 24 miles, hiking 7, and running 16. After the bath I did more biking and hiking, so I am estimating that I covered 52-55 miles by leg power.
I was not sure how I was going to be feeling the next day, as I am not accustomed to riding a bike for anything more than 30 minutes at a time. I had forgotten, though, that when I was unable to run in February and March I did 60-90 minute speed biking sessions around the cemetery, so my biking muscles must still be conditioned.
I woke up Monday feeling energetic, with no soreness. When I got home from the dentist Rachel told me there was a heat advisory, that was all I needed to hear, so I quickly laced my shoes and headed outdoors, deciding to run up and down the arboretum hill.
I ended up running the hill for 2 hours and 45 minutes. The first 30 minutes my body was having difficulty keeping cool, but soon after I got into a meditative trance and my body adjusted. I imagined that if I constantly trained in a furnace-like setting, the 91 degree heat and humidity that was weighing me down would not only feel cool, but would make me shiver. That idea made me feel a little stronger as I continued slogging up and down the hill.
Toward the end of the session I was reminded of running the hill at Blackwell in my early 20's. The same kind of heat, the sun going down, exhaustion mixed with strength. I recalled the man I had witnessed running Blackwell Hill for 3 hours, training for a 100 mile race. I was in awe as I watched him trudging endlessly in the orange twilight heat. Today I had become that man - middle aged, running up and down a hill in summer heat, training for an ultra marathon - life does not get much better.
At runs end I felt the peculiar strength of youth, even though it is so far behind me now. To feel 21 at 43 is bliss......
The solstice was a success, I spent 95% of the day outdoors, the indoor activities were eating Indian food and a 20 minute bath after biking 24 miles, hiking 7, and running 16. After the bath I did more biking and hiking, so I am estimating that I covered 52-55 miles by leg power.
I was not sure how I was going to be feeling the next day, as I am not accustomed to riding a bike for anything more than 30 minutes at a time. I had forgotten, though, that when I was unable to run in February and March I did 60-90 minute speed biking sessions around the cemetery, so my biking muscles must still be conditioned.
I woke up Monday feeling energetic, with no soreness. When I got home from the dentist Rachel told me there was a heat advisory, that was all I needed to hear, so I quickly laced my shoes and headed outdoors, deciding to run up and down the arboretum hill.
I ended up running the hill for 2 hours and 45 minutes. The first 30 minutes my body was having difficulty keeping cool, but soon after I got into a meditative trance and my body adjusted. I imagined that if I constantly trained in a furnace-like setting, the 91 degree heat and humidity that was weighing me down would not only feel cool, but would make me shiver. That idea made me feel a little stronger as I continued slogging up and down the hill.
Toward the end of the session I was reminded of running the hill at Blackwell in my early 20's. The same kind of heat, the sun going down, exhaustion mixed with strength. I recalled the man I had witnessed running Blackwell Hill for 3 hours, training for a 100 mile race. I was in awe as I watched him trudging endlessly in the orange twilight heat. Today I had become that man - middle aged, running up and down a hill in summer heat, training for an ultra marathon - life does not get much better.
At runs end I felt the peculiar strength of youth, even though it is so far behind me now. To feel 21 at 43 is bliss......
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Closing in.....
The Devil's Lake 50k is only 3 weeks away. The week before the race I am taking a week off from work and heading down to Kentucky with Rachel to hang out in a state park with some of her family. It will be fun to run in a new area, although it will be nothing too strenuous or long.
This week was an easy week of running distance-wise, but I did go to the track on Wednesday for some speed running with the 2nd Winders. It was my first fast training day in almost a year. I was surprisingly fast for not having practiced intervals, sprints, tempo pace, etc. Everything I have done the past 10 months has been long and slow, or short and slow, never allowing my heart rate to leave its comfort zone. I usually will run the final 600-1200m of a long run as hard as I can, but that takes 3-5 minutes out of of 3-4 hour run. Having run the Lake Mingo race with a 7:55 pace over 7 miles shows that my best speed is never too far out of reach as long as my endurance is at a high level. 2 years ago I ran the course at a 7:15 pace, so only slowing down 40 seconds per mile is surprising. Having strong endurance must be one of the keys to running well. I would like to put in a few more fast sessions to even things out over the course of the summer.
Having run 8 x 400m hard at the track on Wednesday, my groin and quads were stiff on Thursday and Friday. Friday was 91 and humid, so instead of running 2 or 3 easy miles, I decided I needed to take advantage of the heat so I went out at noon to the arboretum hill and ran up and down for 1 hour. I took it slow and moderate, but it was still a tough workout because the conditions made me feel like I was wearing a 5 pound weight vest.
I will finish up the week today with 2 easy miles (total weekly mileage is 27), and will start a regular week of training tomorrow. Rachel and I want to celebrate the solstice by attempting to spend our time outdoors from sun-up to sun-down. Things on the schedule tomorrow, if it does not rain :
This week was an easy week of running distance-wise, but I did go to the track on Wednesday for some speed running with the 2nd Winders. It was my first fast training day in almost a year. I was surprisingly fast for not having practiced intervals, sprints, tempo pace, etc. Everything I have done the past 10 months has been long and slow, or short and slow, never allowing my heart rate to leave its comfort zone. I usually will run the final 600-1200m of a long run as hard as I can, but that takes 3-5 minutes out of of 3-4 hour run. Having run the Lake Mingo race with a 7:55 pace over 7 miles shows that my best speed is never too far out of reach as long as my endurance is at a high level. 2 years ago I ran the course at a 7:15 pace, so only slowing down 40 seconds per mile is surprising. Having strong endurance must be one of the keys to running well. I would like to put in a few more fast sessions to even things out over the course of the summer.
Having run 8 x 400m hard at the track on Wednesday, my groin and quads were stiff on Thursday and Friday. Friday was 91 and humid, so instead of running 2 or 3 easy miles, I decided I needed to take advantage of the heat so I went out at noon to the arboretum hill and ran up and down for 1 hour. I took it slow and moderate, but it was still a tough workout because the conditions made me feel like I was wearing a 5 pound weight vest.
I will finish up the week today with 2 easy miles (total weekly mileage is 27), and will start a regular week of training tomorrow. Rachel and I want to celebrate the solstice by attempting to spend our time outdoors from sun-up to sun-down. Things on the schedule tomorrow, if it does not rain :
- walk the dog as the sun is rising
- ride bikes to Homer Lake (26-28 miles round trip)
- hike and eat a brunch at Homer Lake
- after getting back to town, I go for a 3-4 hour run, Rachel works in the yard
- after my run I meet Rachel at Bombay Grill for a lunch buffet (indoors, but all you can eat Indian food after a long run is too good to pass up)
- hang out at Taste of Champaign and listen to Bed Bedford play music
- ride bikes to MBK/Busey Woods, then hike around
- bar-b-q in the evening
- walk the dog as the sun is setting.
I am not sure we can pull all of that off, but it will be good training for my upcoming ultra races. I hope it does not rain!
Monday, June 15, 2009
50 miles to Redemption
50 miles to RedemptionI registered for the Devil's Lake 50k last week, and everything is set to go. I was checking out the course, it is fantastically beautiful, lots of steep hills - I am going to be running the arboretum hill for hours and hours this month to prepare myself for the struggle and the journey.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Lake Mingo
I had a great week of training. On Sunday I ran 2 hours and 20 minutes up and down the arboretum hill. Mid week I did back to back 12 milers, and yesterday I raced 1 loop at Lake Mingo, then slowed down and ran 2 more loops. Total weekly mileage was 76.30.
I have had a continual weekly mileage progression for the past 7 weeks. The coming week will be the first down week, because it is time for some extended short and easy runs - the body now needs to reap what it has sowed.
As I was running alone through the woods yesterday I was thinking about how far I have come as a runner. Back when I was 12 years old I started my long journey by running in the mornings to Rocky's home 5 blocks away. I felt odd for running in the quiet morning light because I never saw anyone else doing it. But I loved the way it felt, and it seemed to be the most natural thing to do in the world.
Since that time I have run off and on over the years. In my early 20's I would spend whole days at Blackwell running through the woods and up and down the large hill. In my late 20's and early 30's while in Chicago I loved running along the lakefront, followed by a plunge into the freezing water. In my late 30's and early 40's I started running races for the first time thanks to my friend Melinda. I still remember my first 5k in Danville. I started out strong the first mile, then did a slow burn as my legs got heavier and heavier. I could only watch in shame as a 12 year old child came blazing past me in the last 200m.
Having just turned 43, I am still finding new ways to explore my running potential. I am currently infatuated with running long distance, and am having a great experience training for ultra events. I realize running has been such a big part of my life, and how important it is to me. I have been blessed with a bit of speed, nothing great, but with minimal training I am almost assured of placing in the top 20% of any running event I enter. But comparisons of runner to runner don't mean much, and if I had happened to be a runner who was always near last, I believe I would still love to run and race.
After 31 years it would seem that running by now would surely be stale and no longer a challenge. But I feel as if I am just starting out, and have so much more to experience and learn.
A few things I have learned :
I have had a continual weekly mileage progression for the past 7 weeks. The coming week will be the first down week, because it is time for some extended short and easy runs - the body now needs to reap what it has sowed.
As I was running alone through the woods yesterday I was thinking about how far I have come as a runner. Back when I was 12 years old I started my long journey by running in the mornings to Rocky's home 5 blocks away. I felt odd for running in the quiet morning light because I never saw anyone else doing it. But I loved the way it felt, and it seemed to be the most natural thing to do in the world.
Since that time I have run off and on over the years. In my early 20's I would spend whole days at Blackwell running through the woods and up and down the large hill. In my late 20's and early 30's while in Chicago I loved running along the lakefront, followed by a plunge into the freezing water. In my late 30's and early 40's I started running races for the first time thanks to my friend Melinda. I still remember my first 5k in Danville. I started out strong the first mile, then did a slow burn as my legs got heavier and heavier. I could only watch in shame as a 12 year old child came blazing past me in the last 200m.
Having just turned 43, I am still finding new ways to explore my running potential. I am currently infatuated with running long distance, and am having a great experience training for ultra events. I realize running has been such a big part of my life, and how important it is to me. I have been blessed with a bit of speed, nothing great, but with minimal training I am almost assured of placing in the top 20% of any running event I enter. But comparisons of runner to runner don't mean much, and if I had happened to be a runner who was always near last, I believe I would still love to run and race.
After 31 years it would seem that running by now would surely be stale and no longer a challenge. But I feel as if I am just starting out, and have so much more to experience and learn.
A few things I have learned :
- Start moderately in any event to prevent a slow down at the end of the run
- Running with a high heart rate can last for only a short time. If I don't slow myself down within a few minutes, my body will slow itself down.
- During runs lasting longer than 2 hours, my energy levels will rise and fall for no apparent reason. When in the well of exhaustion, I need to have faith that I will rise into the light eventually.
- The older I get, the longer my warm up needs to be.
- I usually don't enjoy running to reach a specific time, so I rarely wear a watch.
- I enjoy competing against people similar in ability to myself. He who works the hardest wins, so if a person beats me, I know he/she worked harder than me.
- During long runs the first 8-10 miles seem easy and effortless. Soon after things get more difficult and painful, and a continual decline hastens as each mile passes. If I can remember this, I won't be tempted to run fast during the early stages of an ultra.
- I love running in woods and fields.
