Coyote Ugly

Last week was a great week for running if you like getting up early. The weather was hot but manageable around 6 a.m. each day. It was the first week since I was injured that I was able to move my mileage back into the 30+ range. After the Psycho run on Friday, I took Saturday off, and then did a 7.5 miler on Sunday before it hit 100F. The rest of the week went smoothly with runs of 3-5 miles a day; with one exception.

On Friday I set out for a short 3 miler because Eric and I had planned an 8ish mile trail run for Saturday and I didn't want to overdo it. I was cruising back to my house through a fairly rural area when what I thought were two dogs came toward me out of a lawn. I quickly realized that the pair weren't dogs, but were in fact, coyotes. If you recall my coyote run-in from a couple of months ago, these critters in my neck of the woods really aren't scared of people. When the pair were about 20 feet away from me (to my left), I started yelling and clapping my hands to at least halt their advance. They paused and then retreated a few feet. One then took off on a circuitous course ahead and around me across the two lane road. So with one coyote on my left, and one on my right, I had no choice but to run between them. I continued looking at them, talking loudly, and clapping until I felt I was safely away. A couple of cars also passed me. Normally I hate running with cars on that road - it is a small two-lane with no curbs, just ditches, on each side. Friday, however, I was glad to see them.

I've never been afraid of coyotes, but the ones in my neighborhood really seem to be fearless. I spoke with a friend on Sunday, who knows about such things, who told me that there had only been one recorded instance in history of a coyote attacking and killing a runner. Interestingly, it happened this year. A woman was running while listening to an ipod and probably wasn't aware of their presence until they set upon her. I always run with an mp3 device, but am usually pretty aware of my surroundings due to run-ins with deer in my back yard (and the earlier coyote incident). Older coyotes are much more skittish around people. Younger ones that don't know better are much more likely not to look upon us as predators. I've said enough about this now, but if anyone is interested in why efforts to rid areas of coyotes don't work, I can go into it on a future blog (I learned a whole lot about these wonderful creatures yesterday).

Back to running... On Sunday, I got up at 5:30 a.m. Eric cruised by my place at 6, and we drove out to Clinton Lake to meet with Bad Ben and some other trail types for a run on the north shore. I had actually never done a trail run there (even though it is very close to my house). I usually take the SLT paved trails on my runs in the area. This past Sunday there were 9 people who showed up. It was a stunning day for a run. The trails were a bit more technical than the river trails Eric and I usually do which made it more interesting. We turned around after going out 4 miles. When we completed the run, we found that Clinton has some really nice facilities for washing off the mud and plant detritus. I plan to do the runs whenever I'm in town on Saturdays. They do them all year. And again, the trail running community overall seems to be made up of the nicest people I've ever met. To a person, they are fit, enthusiastic, and friendly.

Now for a movie plug: I ordered a French film called Welcome last week. It is a small movie about illegal immigrants in Calais, France who are trying to make it across the channel to England. The direction and acting are excellent, and the screenplay is very well-written (in three languages). I'm a big fan of French cinema, and this is one of the best I've seen recently. I'd highly recommend checking it out of you have a chance.

Until next week, bon chance.

Psycho Wyco

6 Feet of Rocky Mountain High

Actions that bring exhilaration are not that common (and no, I'm not even remotely speaking of S-E-X). I'm talking about doing some sort of physical activity that is both exhilarating during its undertaking, and holds some sort of special place in the psyche for a long time thereafter. I've been lucky as an adult to have a few such experiences.

The first came in 2001 when several friends and I did a self-contained bike tour around Southern France. I had been suffering from pretty debilitating depression - probably brought on by leaving law school, a small business failure, and the winding down of what I had hoped would be a career in music. I'll always have a special place in my heart for every inch of les Alpines that I pushed myself over. I also hold near in my heart each person on that trip as we got to know each other through a shared struggle and adventure. The struggle also served to spark a years-long recovery from poor lifestyle choices and depression.

The next came relatively recently with my friends Chris and Marisa. Marisa and I were in Colorado for a trade show at Keystone. But we did manage a few days of crazy hikes that Chris had found. There was something really wonderful about these hikes. They were at extreme altitudes for a flatlander like me. But what made them wonderful was that the efforts invested in the hike yielded true rewards - both physically and in the most spectacular views I've ever seen outside of the coasts. The sharing of the experience was also something that the three of us will always have.

Last weekend I had another. My friend Eric and I have been doing 6-8 mile trail runs every Saturday we're both in town. I haven't been a huge fan of the trail in the past, but have gained a grudging respect for them as well as those who choose to run them on a regular basis. Trail running takes longer. It it hard to judge distance. You seem to be running at a 7.5 or 8 minute/mile pace, yet it takes 9-10 minutes to complete a mile. That has a tendency to drive me a bit crazy. I have also fallen into a ravine, regularly gotten covered in plant and soil filth, have had to spend a half hour cleaning my shoes after each run, and then have to stand in the shower with very strong poison ivy lotions as I shower like a slaughterhouse worker trying to get clean. So trail running has never really been my 'thing.'

Eric, on the other hand, loves the trail runs. He and I have yet to do a road run together. Since I'm normally a solo runner, I always like the novelty of running with someone else. If I want to run with him, I run the trails. And last week, he had suggested that we do a nighttime trail run called the Psycho Wyco. The run is a 10k that takes place over some of the roughest, hilliest, and muddiest terrain to be found in these parts. Friday night, Eric, I and about 140 other lunatics, slathered ourselves in bug spray, turned on our headlamps and took off on the run.

As someone who is not particularly graceful on trails, as soon as I saw the crazy loose rocks on the inclines, I knew I was going to be in trouble. The race quickly broke apart, with runners moving in small groups. I fell in behind a couple of guys in one of the first few groups. It was helpful to follow, because the mud holes were terrible (one guy lost his shoe in one, and literally never found it - dropping out of the race and hobbling back to the start), and the rocks were large, jagged, and loose. After a mile or two, I was the lead runner of my group. This didn't occur by choice. It happened because one of the two in front of me fell and took a break, and the other got stuck in mud. So I became the defacto leader of my group of 1. The race, was amazingly challenging as a mental test. I could only look down where the light cast its beam about three feet in front of me. Every time I looked up or around, I tripped and skidded (but did not fall). I put the hammer down as much as possible during the run, but the treacherous course continually called for added mental and physical effort, as I even had to grab trees to kind of swing around some of the mud pits. On the way back a man and woman were following me. I asked over my shoulder if they wanted to pass. They declined because they wanted someone in front to light the way. I did think briefly, of stopping and forcing them to pass for the same reason, but my pace was good, and I seemed to be feeling the terrain better.

When I came to the end of the race, there was about a 150 yard run down a hill across a field with two little streams that needed to be fjorded. What got me, however, was that everyone who had finished ahead of me was standing at the finish line cheering me on. I joined the crowd of runners, and we all stood at the end cheering on each successive runner as he or she crossed the line. I had never experienced that in a road race. True camaraderie through shared adversity.

When everything was over, Eric and I drove back to Lawrence, talking about what an awesome experience the event had been. Even though it was late, I could not get to sleep. I was too keyed up with thoughts of running blindly through nature with a goal that would yield a much more inward reward than t-shirts and medals given out at other races. I couldn't stop thinking about what a great tight-knit community of runners made up the crazy crew of trail types.

Now, several days later, I still feel the same way. While I'll still mainly run on roads, my race schedule will likely be dominated by trail runs. The effort is much greater, the pace slower, but I see the allure in making the journey (both mental and physical) the actual reward.

Hot Runs and Hot Tub

It has been hot this past week. That's to be expected. After all, it is August, and it is Kansas. But the heat coupled with the (oft reviled) humidity made being outside a bit... how shall I put this... oh yes, unpleasant. For runners, or at least for those with brains, it made for some really early mornings.

On Saturday, I met my friend Eric at 7:30 for another trail run. 7:30 is about an hour later than I normally hit the road, but the trails we run are pretty well shaded. We set off at a good pace, Eric in the lead. I don't know why I haven't learned to leave some room between myself and a runner ahead of me on a trail. A few weeks ago I almost bit it on a root that I didn't see because I was following too closely. And on Saturday, I did bite it. I tripped over a little tree stump and went tumbling down a ravine. I was unhurt. Eric pulled me out, and we spent a few moments making sure that I hadn't rolled through a patch of poison ivy before setting out again. One good thing about taking a tumble is that it keeps you much more alert to the possibility in the future. Much like having a fender bender when you're in high school. One minor accident can teach you a lesson about avoiding future ones.

So Sunday came around, and I, back in road-running mode, thought why not try a new route. It was pretty hot at 6:45, so I sat down and planned a 5 miler through town, rather than out in the country. It also involved some serious hills. I don't have too much to say about the run other than it was hot and hard - not good characteristics in this context. I did find it interesting that in shifting the course of my run to a different direction, I did not pass a single other runner that I regularly see. In the other three directions that I run habitually, I always see pretty much the same people in most on the various routes. I think, though, because there is a major road I had to cross at the beginning, that the road creates a division in most people's runs. You either run to the North or the South of it, but rarely cross it.

Now a movie plug. My friend Mark Robison, who with his wife, Diane, runs the farm animal sanctuary Cockadoodlemoo.org, was in town over the weekend. On Friday afternoon, the two of us sat down to watch Hot Tub Time Machine. I know it doesn't sound much like something I'd watch, but I had heard a story about it on NPR which said it was a seriously funny movie. Honestly, there were parts that were hysterical. If you're looking for laughs, this is the flick for you. While it's not for little kiddies, it isn't a completely gross-out movie like so many that have come out recently. Highly recommended.

ReLAx

I did my favorite run a couple of times over the weekend. I've written about it extensively, so I won't wax poetic about it again. The only difference this time was that I did it without a running partner. Normally, Joe Salem meets me and we forge up and down the hill together. This time, he was back in Kansas visiting relatives. So I figured I'd just knock out the run and see how fast I could do it. The first day, I was less worried about time, and more interested in keeping out of the sun. It wasn't so hot as much as bright - the headache inducing kind of light that blinds you even in sunglasses. The second time up and down, I managed right around 8:45 minute miles on the ascent, and sub 7 on the descent. I'm not normally a sub 7 kind of guy, so it felt as if I was flying.

At the end of both runs (and before flying home yesterday), I stopped at Trails - a wonderful outdoor eatery. The first day, I had coffee and a vegan lavender cookie. The second day, coffee and a vegan mushroom pistachio filo dough pocket. And finally yesterday, yet another coffee and another pastry. The place is absolutely wonderful. I also noticed with more pleasure than I can express, they use Cafetto Espresso Clean to clean their espresso machine. I love stumbling into places I like and seeing that they use Cafetto. For any of you who don't know I was the first importer of the brand in North and South America.

During the stay in the city of Angels, I mainly slept. I have been under a lot of stress lately, and have not enjoyed much about my life. My main pleasure is running. After that, reading, and then...nothing. I believe that this state is temporary. It is mainly related to family and work issues. But it was so nice to get away, get rest, and take my mind off of all the drama and stress that has built up around me over the past 6 months or so. It is kind of sad, really, because I have worked hard to keep the world's troubles at arms length. Sometimes you just can't do that.

I did get a chance to eat at my favorite vegan restaurant - Vegan House on Sunset. And I saw a movie projected on a screen in a lovely garden/back yard at a house in Silver Lake.

Now I'm back home and hoping that this week will be a bit more cherry and a little less pit (to paraphrase Erma Bombeck).

Trails and Tribulations

I have a friend coming in from Boulder around Labor Day. She's taken up running and has been doing some pretty good training. She wrote me about a month ago and asked if there were any races in the area to do when she's here. Oddly, there weren't too many. The one that looked the best is an 8.5 mile trail run.

Trail running is something of which I've done very little. The times I have done it, I have always been a bit put off by not being able to see where I'm going in the distance. Trail running times are also a bit demoralizing. They're always slower. Ticks, chiggers, and poison ivy are three more reasons I generally avoid trails. On the plus side, however, trail running is gentler on the joints (if you don't trip over a root and fall on your face).

Still, unless we wanted to go do a 5k (those races pop up like flies at a picnic now, they are so ubiquitous), the longer trail run was the only real option. I mentioned the race to a friend of mine, Eric, who loves running on the trails. He said he was up for the run as well. On Saturday, I invited him to go for an early morning 6-8 mile run in the country near my place. Instead, he suggested that we run the trails next to the levee (egad). After some back and forth, I acquiesced, and agreed to the run.

So early Saturday, after a night spent drinking too much wine, and staying up way too late to watch The In-Betweeners on BBC America, I drove to my friend's house and picked him up to head to the trails. It was as humid as swimming by the time we arrived at the trail head. A portion of the Eudora High CC team was there getting ready to run. Eric knew the coach so we chatted for a short time, kinda waiting for them to go first. The coach finally said that we should go ahead - that way we'd be the first to take down the spider webs that criss-cross the trail with our faces.
I mentioned to Eric that he might want to set the pace (I really didn't want to hit the webs first).

Rather than going into each step of our run, suffice it to say that it was beautiful. Eric set a good pace out, and I led the way back. I had one near fall, got covered in mud and plant matter, sweated like a sumo in a sauna, but all-in-all had an awesome time. We finished 10K in 53 minutes (there's that slower time), but psychologically, the slower pace didn't devastate me like it does when I run the trails alone. We had expected the Eudora CC team to blow by us at some point in the run, but we never saw them again.

When I got home, I slathered my legs with anti-poison ivy soap. I washed my trail running shoes (the Brooks Cascadias are really great shoes), threw my clothes in the wash, and was done.

So now, once a week, Eric and I plan to hit the trails. By Labor Day, I may even look forward to running in dirt and mud.

Not Hip

On Sunday, I did a nice short run of 3.5 miles. The weather was perfect and the run felt good. That mileage matched half of my previous week's total. That's right, you're not misreading this. Last week I ran seven miles. And I was lucky to be able to do that. For a week ago on Saturday, I was standing chatting with a tennis partner between points in a match, when something in my hip went haywire, and the next thing I knew I was writhing on the ground. I don't think I've ever used the word 'writhing' in a sentence, but it is apt in this instance.

Between Monday and Friday, I was at the doctor, the chiropractor, and the acupuncturist 6 times. Even with medical insurance co-pay, it was an expensive and time-consuming week. I wasn't able to sit. I could stand for a time and walk for a bit, but sitting hurt my hip so much that it made me ill.

My treatment for the first few days was to take Aleve as if I owned stock in the company and to walk for a mile or so on the cushioned track next to my house. The pain would go away (sort of) when I was in bed at night, but the come back full bore during the daylight hours. Driving in my car and sitting on the toilet were actually the most painful things I could undertake. I tried to avoid doing them as much as possible. But we all know that at least one of those actions is impossible to put off forever...;-)

Finally, on Thursday, I started a pretty massive dose of steroids to try to get the inflammation under control. The 'roids worked. I was able to start to jog slowly. By Sunday, I was able to do the road run. For my first non-track jaunt, I did choose a run that had asphalt and gravel to lessen the impact. And, by this a.m. with a slight bit of pain, I was able to hit one of my normal routes again.

During a week that really sucked, I was able to again reflect on fitness and well-being. It really seems that no matter how fit or in control you are, that that state of being is really illusory. Any tiny thing can throw you off your game at any moment. I learned that my hip issue was actually the result of an injury that I had sustained weeks before. It had simply waited to manifest until I was standing on a tennis court. It could just as easily have happened while I was at a grocery store or sitting in my living room. I wasn't aware that I even had an injury. There was no build up of pain or any other indication. So at 44 years of age, I count my blessings to be able to do the activities I do relatively injury-free.
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In friend news: My buddies Jen and Steve finally got to be foster parents this weekend. It is a HUGE commitment, and one which deserves accolades. They took two tykes at once on almost no notice. The service they are performing is wonderful. If you know a foster parent, thank them. It is some serious work that only specially equipped people can do (and sadly, I am not one of those people).

Chris Ford's kickball team (Love Garden) played an amazing game last night with a couple of jaw-dropping plays (I'm really not kidding). Even my 14 year old nephew was impressed, so you know it had to be good. I have become more of a fan of that sport than I ever thought I would. I don't have a burning desire to play, but I really appreciate the skill involved.

Cockadoodlemoo Farm Animal Sanctuary got a new pen donated by a volunteer. Mark and Diane also report that the Boy Scouts are going to be building turkey pens as well for a project. Marisa Ford has also been working to get the non-profit up and running on Facebook. So look for that page soon and 'friend' it.

When I was your age...

I had the chance to spend the weekend with a teenage relative. I'm not used to being around kids, so while I do love him, I'm not in my comfort zone when I spend extended periods around them. I don't enjoy playing the role of friend and enforcer at the same time. Since I am not, nor do I have any desire to be, a parent, I always feel a bit put upon when I have to interact with kids of any age for an extended period.

My relative, is a vibrant and smart young man of fourteen years. He is pretty seriously accomplished in the arts. He also is good at activities like skateboarding. He likes adults (a rarity for teens I'm told), and is pretty happy spending time with them as long as he gets to do some things he likes as well (a fair trade).

What struck me, however, as he and I spent a lot of time together talking and hanging out, was that he's not a reader, and he seems to lack a lot of the empathy that my friends and I had at his age. I know, I know... it is shocking that a teenager would be more interested in gaming and pop culture than in literature and social activism. But it did strike me as odd, because there seemed to be no interest at all in either of the two.

And now I'll write the famous five words: When I was his age my friends and I read a lot and cared a great deal about the world around us. We were a bit progressive, and we read to the blind, volunteered for political campaigns, and wrote letters for Amnesty International. I even recall going to bed each night and praying for the American hostages in Iran.

As I spent time with my relative, I tried to think of another teenage son or daughter of any of my friends who had ever expressed interest in the greater good of the world around them, and sadly, I couldn't. I do know that there must be kids who care out there, but I am worried that their numbers may be fewer than in past generations. I hope I'm wrong.

I did, ultimately, enjoy the weekend. My relative is bright and funny. We had some good conversations about right and wrong (none of which stuck, I'm sure). And I was able to convince him to eat relatively well. I will be seeing more of him this Summer, and I'm glad for that. But I have been struggling with a deeper concern that a sense of connectedness to, and an empathy for the world around us and the people in it are sorely lacking in his outlook. And it makes a bit sad.
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Now, something that makes me happy...

My cul-de-sac has a workout group. I didn't know about it until late in the day a week ago. Each Tuesday and Thursday, a group of neighbors meets on the soccer field at 6 a.m. and does a 45 minute workout overseen by a physical therapist who used to be a Pilates instructor. Last Tuesday I showed up thinking that the workout wouldn't be all that difficult. After all, I run every day, play a lot of tennis, and bike a couple of times a week as well. Wow was I wrong. The workout is amazing. I went both days it was offered, and left after each workout soaked in sweat and feeling queasy from exertion.

A couple of friends and I had been discussing how difficult it was to get a core workout. I am happy to report that I no longer have that problem. I have a minor hip issue this week that may prevent me from doing the workout, but I will certainly be back. The workouts fit in so nicely with my routine, that adding them is almost seamless.
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Finally: The most interesting animal I saw on a run in the past week was a skunk (a very large skunk) frolicking in a field at 6 a.m. last Wednesday.

Have a great week.