Its been raining for two days and I'm coming off a serious ankle injury and coming on to a major calf strain. And I show up at Neil and Steph's to find out instead of running with Steph, I'll be running with Neil.
And why does that matter?
Neil and I are friends but I'd never run with Neil before when it was just the two of us. We'd always run with Steve and Steph and it worked. Neil likes to bolt. I heard him say once, he has some speed and once in a while he likes to use it. And, I imagine, my turtle slow pace can get a bit tiresome. When we ran as a group, Neil could be way down the trail and I still had a runner partner.
Its a thing about running a lot of people don't get. I don't begrudge Neil his need to run fast. I'm always a little surprised when anyone fast wants to run with me. They're fast. God made them that way. They should go fast. When Neil is way down the trail I'm not hurt, I'm envious. I admire his ability. I respect it.
I don't mind getting left behind because I run to run. Its the friction of someone fast thinking they need to hold back for you and all I can think is how much it must hurt being tethered.
When I showed up at Neil and Steph's and Steph was curled up on the couch with a blanket and Neil was getting ready, my first thought was that Neil got stuck with the chore of running with me as a favor to Steph. It didn’t bode well as far as I could reckon. I would slow him down and he might push me harder than I could go.
I hate that I keep circling back on this but I have no illusions about my speed or gains or anything like that. Neil just out classes me as a runner. He’s younger, by 209 years, he trained most of his life and he’s got the body type. He's tall and lean and fit as hell. I'm a northern European viking type, barrel chested with skinny arms and I’m nervous.
Do you get how wrong this could go?
So we start running. Neil’s real quiet for what seems like forever and then he starts talking, actually asking me questions, where my family lives, what my dad does for a living and I’m having the hardest time hearing him or breathing for that matter. He has to repeat himself and I’m thinking, now he really has to be irritated.
Then we have this exchange where I mentioned how fast he is, how we've never run alone together and he seemed snappish and then I corrected him, he misquoted me, I didn't say he was fast but faster than me and that seemed to piss him off and I kept thinking this is such horrible mistake and then we got to the water.
At first, it was splashy puddles and what seemed like anemic drainage streams then rushing streams and vast sections of water where we had to run around them into the woods and he kept having to wait for me and then it started to happened, he started smiling. He gave me some pointers on how to manage the water. Step straight down and then straight up again. Bounding. Working the edges.
I started smiling and laughing. I stopped noticing how much I was holding us back and started running. Then came the red clay hill...
It was two stories of red clay piled up from construction and Neil had us run up and over and he just one two three’d up that bastard but with the clay's tension was broken by the time I started my ascent. I seemed to almost instantly sink into the muck, struggling to find a path. Sinking, plowing, digging until I made my way up to the peak. I was covered in red clay almost to me knees and my shoes were like adobe bricks. We looked out over everything. And owned it all.
Neil took off and jump from anartificial cliffs half way down. He jumped hard and smoothly. I ran and half jumped and half slid. We headed down a granite strewn drainage bed back into the streams. I wasn’t even trying to stay out of the water now. The red clay was coming off my shoes in sheets but that wasn’t even why. It was just so damn fun not to care about pace or stride.
Neil used the word awesome. I get that but I reckon he meant awestruck. It was so easy, unbound from worry , my pulse pounding in my head as the water got deep, knee deep, hip deep, shallow and then not shallow and then Neil seemed to fall forward, splashing face first into the water.
I called out, You alright and he yelled back, Yeah. And I yelled, Is it deep? But never heard his reply when I hit that spot and dropped 5.5 feet into an eddying pool, the water swirling over my head.Neil yelled, Don't swallow the water and I grabbed a tree root to hauled myself out.
We ran out of the woods and up along Park taking both the big bad hill and its little brother. We ran those hills hard and as exhausted as I was from everything, I just ran harder. I wanted to give up everything I had left inside me. I had been to the wilderness just a little. Cars actually got swept away in this very rain we had been running in this very night.
We turned left into Neil’s neighborhood and headed home.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Running Log: November 30 - December 6
Total Miles for the Week: 24.5
11/30 5.5 miles with Steve and Steph - Ran up park and cut over into Tom Brown for the trails and hills. I kept thinking I was gonna give out and then kept pushing.
12/1 2 Miles at Layfayette with 10 exercise (20 reps) stations on each mile.
12/2 7 miles with Neil on the BMX trails plus the Fern and the Park Avenue monster hills.
11/30 5.5 miles with Steve and Steph - Ran up park and cut over into Tom Brown for the trails and hills. I kept thinking I was gonna give out and then kept pushing.
12/1 2 Miles at Layfayette with 10 exercise (20 reps) stations on each mile.
12/2 7 miles with Neil on the BMX trails plus the Fern and the Park Avenue monster hills.
12/5 10 miles out at Bradley's with Steve et al. It was a good run. I did a mile in 7:51. Met some new runners and found out how fast Doug is and that being passed by Steve is like being passed by a truck out on 27 toward Havana, a rush of wind and the hint of danger.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Motivational Quote #1
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. - The Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear, Frank Hebert
I think there is a difference between pain and discomfort. I think that in feeling discomfort we imagine it as pain and that stops us. We get that roiling sick feeling in our guts and instead of driving through the discomfort, we back off because we fear getting sick. Fear of the bear on our backs, at the last few miles, makes us slow down, fear of how it would look to others if we went slow makes us push at the wrong time. Fear the right thing or the wrong thing, its all just fear.
I think there is a difference between pain and discomfort. I think that in feeling discomfort we imagine it as pain and that stops us. We get that roiling sick feeling in our guts and instead of driving through the discomfort, we back off because we fear getting sick. Fear of the bear on our backs, at the last few miles, makes us slow down, fear of how it would look to others if we went slow makes us push at the wrong time. Fear the right thing or the wrong thing, its all just fear.
I need to think through things, make decisions based on what I know and what I don't know. If the opposite of love is fear than I must love the hill, embrace the bear. When discomfort comes, I must welcome it as a sign that I pushing passed my limits and then move on.
Running Log: November 23 - 29
Total Miles for the Week: 28
11/23 - 6 Miles with Steph - Ran 3 miles holding back and the managed a negative split for the second 3.
11/24 - 2 miles at the park with 10 exercise (20 reps) stations on each mile.
11/25 - 8 Miles with Steph and Steve at Red Bug. I wanted to vomit twice. That's a good sign, I think.
11/26 - 2 Miles warm up with Steve, Steph and Neil before the Turkey Trot.
11/27 - 5 miles at Forest Meadows back loop, long slow hills. I had a weak middle. I need to work on pacing. Obviously, I went too hard somewhere.
11/28 - 1.5 Miles run and 3.5 miles walked at Forest Meadows back loop with Vince. Walked hard which seemed to stretch out my calf muscle.
11/29 - 15 plus miles with Clay on the bikes. We biked the Fern Trail and then the Cadillac plus a bunch more I barely remember being that I was exhausted and terrified then back on the Fern Trail. Need to wear running leggings as contact with poison ivy seems unavoidable on the Cadillac. Also seemed to help my calf.
11/23 - 6 Miles with Steph - Ran 3 miles holding back and the managed a negative split for the second 3.
11/24 - 2 miles at the park with 10 exercise (20 reps) stations on each mile.
11/25 - 8 Miles with Steph and Steve at Red Bug. I wanted to vomit twice. That's a good sign, I think.
11/26 - 2 Miles warm up with Steve, Steph and Neil before the Turkey Trot.
11/27 - 5 miles at Forest Meadows back loop, long slow hills. I had a weak middle. I need to work on pacing. Obviously, I went too hard somewhere.
11/28 - 1.5 Miles run and 3.5 miles walked at Forest Meadows back loop with Vince. Walked hard which seemed to stretch out my calf muscle.
11/29 - 15 plus miles with Clay on the bikes. We biked the Fern Trail and then the Cadillac plus a bunch more I barely remember being that I was exhausted and terrified then back on the Fern Trail. Need to wear running leggings as contact with poison ivy seems unavoidable on the Cadillac. Also seemed to help my calf.
Running Tip #1
When you are about to enter a Porta-john, don't cram your cell phone and brand new Punisher skull cap into the shallow side pocket of your Adidas track jacket...
I walked in and locked the door behind me and looking at my options, remembered that some runners are women and turning to the left to use the urinal, heard a faint... ploop. And knew, instantly, what had just shot out of my pocket and into the commode.
I loved that phone but I really loved that hat. It was bad ass. It made me look a little like that biker Opie on Sons of Anarchy. I love Sons of Anarchy.
I knew it was gone.
I looked down the hole black watery hole and my sad little phone cast in blue commode water, lit up under as if to cry out, help me. And everyone has asked me if I reached in to get it out and to that I've said no. Who would do that and why.
Sadly, I would. Just for a few panicked moments, I clung to the idea things would be alright. I could dry it. Use Julia's rice bag idea to get every last bit of moisture out of it, maybe even use that sanitary spray Pola has in the kitchen for spray the germs off our counter tops. All my pictures, notes for stories, phone numbers...
Now to my credit once I realized the phone's state, I let it slip back into the stinky depths - its hand out stretch, its fingertips straining toward life as oblivion wrapped it into the great goodnight...
Okay, that's horseshit but you get the point. It was a big sad moment for me. And worse, the day hadn't even started so there was a race to watch and friends to cheer on and the inevitable photos to be taken where everyone would be all open and smiling and, as usual, I would look like a real tool, arms cross and scowling.
I walked in and locked the door behind me and looking at my options, remembered that some runners are women and turning to the left to use the urinal, heard a faint... ploop. And knew, instantly, what had just shot out of my pocket and into the commode.
I loved that phone but I really loved that hat. It was bad ass. It made me look a little like that biker Opie on Sons of Anarchy. I love Sons of Anarchy.
I knew it was gone.
I looked down the hole black watery hole and my sad little phone cast in blue commode water, lit up under as if to cry out, help me. And everyone has asked me if I reached in to get it out and to that I've said no. Who would do that and why.
Sadly, I would. Just for a few panicked moments, I clung to the idea things would be alright. I could dry it. Use Julia's rice bag idea to get every last bit of moisture out of it, maybe even use that sanitary spray Pola has in the kitchen for spray the germs off our counter tops. All my pictures, notes for stories, phone numbers...
Now to my credit once I realized the phone's state, I let it slip back into the stinky depths - its hand out stretch, its fingertips straining toward life as oblivion wrapped it into the great goodnight...
Okay, that's horseshit but you get the point. It was a big sad moment for me. And worse, the day hadn't even started so there was a race to watch and friends to cheer on and the inevitable photos to be taken where everyone would be all open and smiling and, as usual, I would look like a real tool, arms cross and scowling.
Running with Vince
Vince is nine years older than me and mentally handicapped. I’m not sure if that’s the right term for it and I don’t care. He’s a bit undercooked. He’s slow. He’s Vince. When we talk, Vince’s mumble-y Cajun drawl is hard to follow and I have to ask him to repeat himself which visibly irritates him.
I’ve taken to just saying uh-huh and hoping to put it all together later. It isn’t any less disrespectful than I’d be to anyone else. He seems to get most things I say and remembers well enough. He has a head for numbers and a profound sense of direction.
Vince tends to get a bit stuck on details and it seems can be found repeating them. I’ve always imagined it was a way to make them real having just been reminded that they exist.
Vince has been running for twenty years. He even ran the Philadelphia marathon once. His daddy said that they had to have people running next to him with water as otherwise he would have stopped running and never started again.
About ten years ago he stopped running due to shin splints and only in the last six years started doing 1 mile fun runs and cycling to get back into shape. A few months ago he ran a church 5k and will run another a few days after Valentine’s Day.
When we ran the Saturday after thanksgiving, he ran in jeans and a button down shirt with a fancy western cut belt. He wore a jacket and baseball cap. I can’t remember what was on the cap. I think an American flag.
I took him to Forest Meadows. We walked in about 1/2 mile to warm up and then started running. I kept checking with him. We’d walk when he needed to walk. I kept checking with him. We ran about 1.5 miles when Vince yelled stop and we did. He was panting, hands on knees like the whole time he was sprinting but to look at him running, he seemed composed, focus and steady.
We walked the rest of the way back in to the trail head and talked a bit about running.
He reminded me about his fun runs and his upcoming 5k. I said I knew some milers and they were pretty fast. He said he could do a ten minute mile. I mentioned I had a 1/2 marathon coming up. He said he had cousin who did 1/2 marathons. It went like that.
No great insight, just two runners making small talk. I stopped to pee on the way out and he told me he didn’t need to pee. He ran on to the truck.
We had breakfast at the Waffle House with Vince’s daddy Burke. I sat next to Vince so that mostly Burke and I talked. Burke said he liked things simple like the Waffle House. Waiters and cooks were all the same people.
Burke paid and then we went our separate ways.
I’ve taken to just saying uh-huh and hoping to put it all together later. It isn’t any less disrespectful than I’d be to anyone else. He seems to get most things I say and remembers well enough. He has a head for numbers and a profound sense of direction.
Vince tends to get a bit stuck on details and it seems can be found repeating them. I’ve always imagined it was a way to make them real having just been reminded that they exist.
Vince has been running for twenty years. He even ran the Philadelphia marathon once. His daddy said that they had to have people running next to him with water as otherwise he would have stopped running and never started again.
About ten years ago he stopped running due to shin splints and only in the last six years started doing 1 mile fun runs and cycling to get back into shape. A few months ago he ran a church 5k and will run another a few days after Valentine’s Day.
When we ran the Saturday after thanksgiving, he ran in jeans and a button down shirt with a fancy western cut belt. He wore a jacket and baseball cap. I can’t remember what was on the cap. I think an American flag.
I took him to Forest Meadows. We walked in about 1/2 mile to warm up and then started running. I kept checking with him. We’d walk when he needed to walk. I kept checking with him. We ran about 1.5 miles when Vince yelled stop and we did. He was panting, hands on knees like the whole time he was sprinting but to look at him running, he seemed composed, focus and steady.
We walked the rest of the way back in to the trail head and talked a bit about running.
He reminded me about his fun runs and his upcoming 5k. I said I knew some milers and they were pretty fast. He said he could do a ten minute mile. I mentioned I had a 1/2 marathon coming up. He said he had cousin who did 1/2 marathons. It went like that.
No great insight, just two runners making small talk. I stopped to pee on the way out and he told me he didn’t need to pee. He ran on to the truck.
We had breakfast at the Waffle House with Vince’s daddy Burke. I sat next to Vince so that mostly Burke and I talked. Burke said he liked things simple like the Waffle House. Waiters and cooks were all the same people.
Burke paid and then we went our separate ways.
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