Sunday, October 31, 2010
OCTOBER MILEAGE
THIS IS MY FIRST REAL MONTH OF TRAINING FOR THE HINTE-ANDERSON TRAIL RUN 50K. SO FAR, SO GOOD.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
BENNETT'S POND 10/29/2010 AND BEAR CREEK 10/30/2010
BENNETT'S POND 10/29/2010
(CL) THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A FANTASTIC RUN. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN AN ACCOMPLISHMENT. IT SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN WHAT IT WAS, AND THAT IS A LESSON IN FAILURE. WORK IS NOT GOING WELL AND I'M TEETERING ON THE BRINK OF GETTING FIRED. NOT BECAUSE OF DOWNSIZING OR LOW NUMBERS, BUT BECAUSE I STEADFASTLY REFUSE TO STOP BEING WHAT I AM. DIRECT, HONEST, AND SOMETIMES ABRASIVE. NONE OF THAT MATTERS. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT I SPENT THE ENTIRE 8.09 MILES AND 93 MINUTES AND 17 SECONDS THINKING ABOUT WORK. THINKING ABOUT WHAT I COULD HAVE DONE DIFFERENTLY, WHAT I CAN DO TO NOT BE DISLIKED AS MUCH AS I SEEM TO BE BY MY COWORKERS. WHAT ANGERED ME, AND WHAT SPOILED THIS MOMENT, WAS THE LACK OF MENTAL DISCIPLINE AND MENTAL TENACITY REQUIRED TO JUST RUN, TO FOCUS ON BREATHING AND FOOTSTEPS AND THE COOLNESS OF THE AIR AGAINST MY SKIN. THE NEGATIVITY FED UPON ITSELF AND SOON I WONDERED IF I WOULD HAVE THE MENTAL TOUGHNESS TO GUT IT OUT WHEN THE MILES GOT LONG AND THE PHYSICAL CAPACITY GREW WEAK. I CAN LOOK AT THIS AS A DAY WASTED OR AS A "TEACHABLE MOMENT", ONE THAT SHOWED ME THAT WHATEVER IS GOING ON IN MY NIGHTMARE FACTORY OF A HEAD I STILL PUT ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER AND COMPLETE MY MISSION.
BEAR CREEK 10/30/2010
(CL) VISITING MY PARENTS SO I RAN BEAR CREEK AGAIN TODAY. THE LAST TIME I RAN THERE I WENT A MILE AND A HALF UP AND TURNED AROUND. THIS TIME I DID THE FULL 5 MILE LOOP AND SOMEHOW ADDED ON AN EXTRA HALF MILE. THE FIRST THREE MILES ARE A SERIES OF SWITCHBACKS THAT CLIMB AND WIND THROUGH SOME PRETTY PUNISHING TERRAIN. A COMBINATION OF THICK WET LEAVES AND HUGE SECTIONS OF VERY ROCKY AND ROOTY TRAIL. I WOULD SAY THERE AREN'T MORE THAN A HUNDRED YARDS OF SMOOTH, FLAT TRAIL IN THE FIRST THREE MILES. THE LAST TWO MILES MAKE THE TREACHEROUS CLIMB COMPLETELY WORTH IT. THE DOWNHILL SECTIONS ARE FAIRLY SMOOTH SINGLETRACK WITH A FEW GNARLY ROCK GARDEN SECTIONS. THE LAST HALF MILE GETS IT'S REVENGE ON YOU FOR ENJOYING THE DOWNHILL WITH AN ENDLESS LENGTH OF ROLLING AND SLICK ROCK. AWESOME.
ENOUGH ABOUT THE LOGISTICS...
It's amazing to contrast this run with yesterdays. yesterday was draining and at the time seemed pointless. I completely lacked the mental discipline to block out my trouble at work and just enjoy the fact that I got to spend an hour and a half in the woods. I kept trying to hit the reset button, the way a the best goalies or pitchers can reset after letting up an easy goal or a home run. I spent the entire 8 miles drafting apologies and rolling through every ridiculous detail of my most recent disciplinary problems on the job. Every step felt like a pain in the ass and there was no sense of accomplishment or endorphin rush that I usually feel when I hit the parking lot.
Todays run was far more technical, steep, and one of the most punishing runs I've ever been on but it felt remarkable. The endorphin rush I felt was like smoking Meth and it was the first time that I really felt like my training was paying off. I don't know if it was because I had to concentrate so hard to keep from killing myself or what but I ran with a clear mind. My hill climbing abilities seem to have improved a great deal and I'm satisfied with my effort but it was really what was going on inside my head, and not my legs and lungs, that made the difference. It would be easy to say that it was the distraction of a new trail but I feel like it was something else. Yesterday I let the Nightmare Factory into the woods with me. I was running against every bad thought I could manufacture and there was no flow, not even on some of the lengthy downhills. Enough for today.
THIS SAYS IT ALL:
CHECK OUT THE VIEW BEHIND ME. I RAN UP...AND THEN I RAN DOWN.
I TOOK THE WHITE TO YELOW TRAIL. 5.5 MILES.
(CL) THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A FANTASTIC RUN. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN AN ACCOMPLISHMENT. IT SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN WHAT IT WAS, AND THAT IS A LESSON IN FAILURE. WORK IS NOT GOING WELL AND I'M TEETERING ON THE BRINK OF GETTING FIRED. NOT BECAUSE OF DOWNSIZING OR LOW NUMBERS, BUT BECAUSE I STEADFASTLY REFUSE TO STOP BEING WHAT I AM. DIRECT, HONEST, AND SOMETIMES ABRASIVE. NONE OF THAT MATTERS. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT I SPENT THE ENTIRE 8.09 MILES AND 93 MINUTES AND 17 SECONDS THINKING ABOUT WORK. THINKING ABOUT WHAT I COULD HAVE DONE DIFFERENTLY, WHAT I CAN DO TO NOT BE DISLIKED AS MUCH AS I SEEM TO BE BY MY COWORKERS. WHAT ANGERED ME, AND WHAT SPOILED THIS MOMENT, WAS THE LACK OF MENTAL DISCIPLINE AND MENTAL TENACITY REQUIRED TO JUST RUN, TO FOCUS ON BREATHING AND FOOTSTEPS AND THE COOLNESS OF THE AIR AGAINST MY SKIN. THE NEGATIVITY FED UPON ITSELF AND SOON I WONDERED IF I WOULD HAVE THE MENTAL TOUGHNESS TO GUT IT OUT WHEN THE MILES GOT LONG AND THE PHYSICAL CAPACITY GREW WEAK. I CAN LOOK AT THIS AS A DAY WASTED OR AS A "TEACHABLE MOMENT", ONE THAT SHOWED ME THAT WHATEVER IS GOING ON IN MY NIGHTMARE FACTORY OF A HEAD I STILL PUT ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER AND COMPLETE MY MISSION.
BEAR CREEK 10/30/2010
(CL) VISITING MY PARENTS SO I RAN BEAR CREEK AGAIN TODAY. THE LAST TIME I RAN THERE I WENT A MILE AND A HALF UP AND TURNED AROUND. THIS TIME I DID THE FULL 5 MILE LOOP AND SOMEHOW ADDED ON AN EXTRA HALF MILE. THE FIRST THREE MILES ARE A SERIES OF SWITCHBACKS THAT CLIMB AND WIND THROUGH SOME PRETTY PUNISHING TERRAIN. A COMBINATION OF THICK WET LEAVES AND HUGE SECTIONS OF VERY ROCKY AND ROOTY TRAIL. I WOULD SAY THERE AREN'T MORE THAN A HUNDRED YARDS OF SMOOTH, FLAT TRAIL IN THE FIRST THREE MILES. THE LAST TWO MILES MAKE THE TREACHEROUS CLIMB COMPLETELY WORTH IT. THE DOWNHILL SECTIONS ARE FAIRLY SMOOTH SINGLETRACK WITH A FEW GNARLY ROCK GARDEN SECTIONS. THE LAST HALF MILE GETS IT'S REVENGE ON YOU FOR ENJOYING THE DOWNHILL WITH AN ENDLESS LENGTH OF ROLLING AND SLICK ROCK. AWESOME.
ENOUGH ABOUT THE LOGISTICS...
It's amazing to contrast this run with yesterdays. yesterday was draining and at the time seemed pointless. I completely lacked the mental discipline to block out my trouble at work and just enjoy the fact that I got to spend an hour and a half in the woods. I kept trying to hit the reset button, the way a the best goalies or pitchers can reset after letting up an easy goal or a home run. I spent the entire 8 miles drafting apologies and rolling through every ridiculous detail of my most recent disciplinary problems on the job. Every step felt like a pain in the ass and there was no sense of accomplishment or endorphin rush that I usually feel when I hit the parking lot.
Todays run was far more technical, steep, and one of the most punishing runs I've ever been on but it felt remarkable. The endorphin rush I felt was like smoking Meth and it was the first time that I really felt like my training was paying off. I don't know if it was because I had to concentrate so hard to keep from killing myself or what but I ran with a clear mind. My hill climbing abilities seem to have improved a great deal and I'm satisfied with my effort but it was really what was going on inside my head, and not my legs and lungs, that made the difference. It would be easy to say that it was the distraction of a new trail but I feel like it was something else. Yesterday I let the Nightmare Factory into the woods with me. I was running against every bad thought I could manufacture and there was no flow, not even on some of the lengthy downhills. Enough for today.
THIS SAYS IT ALL:
CHECK OUT THE VIEW BEHIND ME. I RAN UP...AND THEN I RAN DOWN.
I TOOK THE WHITE TO YELOW TRAIL. 5.5 MILES.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
BENNETT'S POND PYRAMID LOOP I
In spite of the fact that I crushed my legs yesterday I decided to go out and try to find some new routes to run. I'm a creature of habit and if I don't push myself I'll run the exact same routes until I've worn ruts into them. It was cool and sunny so I figured I'd go for a walk. This is what I found.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
"SUFFERING PASSES, BUT THE FACT OF HAVING SUFFERED NEVER PASSES." LEON BLOY
Satisfaction. It's something I've been thinking about on my last few runs. Until today, the last few weeks worth of runs have not been inspired, particularly enjoyable, or brilliant in their execution. I was never graced with the effortlessness and ease with which we tend to associate "fun". Fun is eating a bag of Peppermint Patties or any movie featuring Seth Rogen. Except for those elusive days when running is effortless, there is nothing intrinsically fun in pounding out miles. What I'm finding, though, is that the definition of fun, for me, is ever shifting and that what to some may seem like torture is enjoyable and gratifying.
My shifting definition of fun has learned to include the gasping for air that comes from running a 15% grade hill, at running so hard into a stump that I piss on myself, on the feeling I get when I get back to the parking lot and my legs have entered the early stages of rigor. Fun is sitting on my bed with ice packs on both legs from the knees down for 20 minutes when I get home, from the first few painful steps out of bed the morning after a long run. It is the combination of exhilaration and panic when I'm hammering a downhill as fast as I can and that feeling of quads doused in gasoline and set alight at the bottom of that hill.
But fun and satisfaction are two different beasts. On a day like today, when the temperature is 45 degrees, the sun is out, and the trail is slowly filling with gold and amber leaves, when my breathing is right and my legs feel invincible, when my GPS watch fails and I run 7.5 when I think I'm running 6.0, these are the days that the satisfaction is in the journey, in the instant and possibly cheap instant gratification that comes from things that have come too easy. I'm thankful for days like these, I really am. Days like today are anesthesia, but anesthesia is only a thin veil over what really matters. No warm lull of opioid anesthetic can compare to the miles that want me to quit. They are long miles not in their number, but in their discomfort. They are "praying for this to stop" miles that make every foot fall feel like an injury. They are the days of rain and ice, of poor nutrition and lack of sleep, but they are the days that matter most. It's easy to run when the sun is out, the air has a crisp bite to it, and the ground looks like a golden carpet, but it's the run where nearly every cell in your body is telling you to quit that keep me breathing.
Another quotes from French Novelist (and apparent crazy man) Leon Bloy:
"There are places in the heart that do not yet exist: suffering has to enter in for them to come to be."
My shifting definition of fun has learned to include the gasping for air that comes from running a 15% grade hill, at running so hard into a stump that I piss on myself, on the feeling I get when I get back to the parking lot and my legs have entered the early stages of rigor. Fun is sitting on my bed with ice packs on both legs from the knees down for 20 minutes when I get home, from the first few painful steps out of bed the morning after a long run. It is the combination of exhilaration and panic when I'm hammering a downhill as fast as I can and that feeling of quads doused in gasoline and set alight at the bottom of that hill.
But fun and satisfaction are two different beasts. On a day like today, when the temperature is 45 degrees, the sun is out, and the trail is slowly filling with gold and amber leaves, when my breathing is right and my legs feel invincible, when my GPS watch fails and I run 7.5 when I think I'm running 6.0, these are the days that the satisfaction is in the journey, in the instant and possibly cheap instant gratification that comes from things that have come too easy. I'm thankful for days like these, I really am. Days like today are anesthesia, but anesthesia is only a thin veil over what really matters. No warm lull of opioid anesthetic can compare to the miles that want me to quit. They are long miles not in their number, but in their discomfort. They are "praying for this to stop" miles that make every foot fall feel like an injury. They are the days of rain and ice, of poor nutrition and lack of sleep, but they are the days that matter most. It's easy to run when the sun is out, the air has a crisp bite to it, and the ground looks like a golden carpet, but it's the run where nearly every cell in your body is telling you to quit that keep me breathing.
Another quotes from French Novelist (and apparent crazy man) Leon Bloy:
"There are places in the heart that do not yet exist: suffering has to enter in for them to come to be."
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
JAWKING/BENNETT'S POND 10/20/2010
Due to a lovely combination of a head and chest cold and being in too much of a rush to get out of work to eat lunch I was wheezing like a preemie and delirious from low blood sugar in less than a mile. I wanted to turn around but instead decided to do some jawking. Jawking is a not very attractive or admirable combination of jogging and walking. I figured that while I was moving at a horrendous 13 minute mile clip I might as well enjoy the scenery and snap a few photographs.
The Fall has always been my favorite season, a combination of the romanticism of Southern Vermont Mountains in October and the agonal breaths of another year.
"The grey cobweb-like appearance of the aged pines is a much finer image of decay; the fibres whitening as they lose their moisture, imprisoned life seems to be stealing away. I cannot tell why-but death, under every form, appears to me like something getting free". Mary Wollstonecraft
The Fall has always been my favorite season, a combination of the romanticism of Southern Vermont Mountains in October and the agonal breaths of another year.
"The grey cobweb-like appearance of the aged pines is a much finer image of decay; the fibres whitening as they lose their moisture, imprisoned life seems to be stealing away. I cannot tell why-but death, under every form, appears to me like something getting free". Mary Wollstonecraft
MORE WALK, LESS TALK
I've spent enough time surrounded by people far smarter than myself to have heard the concepts of being "present" and being in the moment and while I understood these as concepts it was nothing I ever thought I'd be able to achieve. My mind is like a .22 round bouncing inside a skull. Not conducive to the rigors of daily life, let alone something as difficult and deep as quieting the mind. As with most things in my life I am either a hammer or a nail and very rarely fall into the comfortable spaces in between.
During my last four or five runs I've realized that I'm able to achieve brief moments where there is nothing but the sound of my breathing and my footsteps against the earth. After spending some time patting myself on the back for serving up a few moments of peace I also realized that one of the driving factors in keeping me present is that, if I'm not, the combination of clumsiness, poor footing, and gravity become the hammer and I become the nail. Most of the important lessons I've learned in life have come from literally or figuratively being punched in the face. This is another example.
"Laying in bed tonight I was thinking
And listening to all the dogs
And the sirens and the shots
And how a careful man tries
To dodge the bullets
While a happy man takes a walk."
The Eels
During my last four or five runs I've realized that I'm able to achieve brief moments where there is nothing but the sound of my breathing and my footsteps against the earth. After spending some time patting myself on the back for serving up a few moments of peace I also realized that one of the driving factors in keeping me present is that, if I'm not, the combination of clumsiness, poor footing, and gravity become the hammer and I become the nail. Most of the important lessons I've learned in life have come from literally or figuratively being punched in the face. This is another example.
"Laying in bed tonight I was thinking
And listening to all the dogs
And the sirens and the shots
And how a careful man tries
To dodge the bullets
While a happy man takes a walk."
The Eels
Friday, October 1, 2010
CATS AND DOGS
To borrow a phrase from Rob Fusco (www.simpleirontruth.com), today I most definitely paid what I owed. It's rained between 2-4 inches in the last couple of days and the temperature has dropped from a very humid 78 to a very chilly 58 degrees with wind gusts in the 20 mph range. Getting out of the car was murder. The fact that I had no rain gear and only one stinky fucking orange shirt to protect me from the bow hunters was murder. I thought of a hundred excuses for why I should hop back into the car and go home and only one reason to get out. I needed to pay what I owed. I threw down my cash for the 2011 50K and it was time for me to start investing. Everything felt wrong with my mind and body until the first section of flooded trail. Where there was once nice smooth singletrack was now a nicely moving stream that exposed any roots and rocks that weren't hidden under wet leaves. As soon as my first foot was submerged to the ankle in what was a trail, I was no longer training or completing a task for the day. Instead I was 5 years old bombing through the fucking water, sliding in the mud and leaves and wondering how I could have even considered staying in the car. A picture is worth a...
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