Here I Sit

Right now my legs should be moving in rhythm through the rugged and barren landscape of the four corners area of western New Mexico. Instead, I am sitting on the couch.

Four months ago I started training for the Shiprock Marathon that is taking place this morning. I ran about 400 miles in preparation, ate well, did all the work.

On my last long training run, I reinjured my ankle. I thought about doing the half marathon, but yesterday I realized that I would not even be able to do that well. At best I would drive home frustrated; at worst I would drive home injured.

So here I sit. Wondering where I go from here. Time to rebuild again, time to dream again.

The Humility of Running

I have always thought that running is not for the proud. While running, I have seen fellow runners bleed, vomit, faint, and perform about every bodily function you don’t want to imagine.

However, I am slowly learning that running is not only about other people’s humility, it is about my pride.

Until I recently reinjured my ankle, I had been running faster than ever. I dreamt of setting personal records.

Because I am gimpy again, on Saturday I missed the Albuquerque Half Marathon. I don’t know yet if I will make it to the Shiprock Marathon on May 5th. The training is done, the spirit is willing, but the ankle is weak.

Today, during mid-run, I made a stop into the Athletes Edge. When I asked how to keep the kinesio tape on my leg, they said to shave them. When I asked if I could still run the marathon at goal pace, they told me to listen to my body and just enjoy the experience. Talk about humility.

All of this has caused me to ask myself what kind of runner, and what kind of person, I aspire to be. Is it necessary for me to reach arbitrary time goals at the expense of injury? Is it necessary for me to achieve things in life that don’t really matter to reach arbitrary life goals? Is my value in life based on my minutes per mile pace or my resume?

Of course not.

Yet, when the blood gets flowing it is hard to balance my prideful internal drive with the limitations of my middle aged body.

I am learning, I am learning, I am limited.

 

 

Busted by the running police

Apparently, doing a 20 mile run in 400-mile old trail shoes is a bad idea.

At mile 16, it felt like someone kicked me in my achiles. I haven’t been the same since.

Yesterday I was spinning my tail of woe at my favorite store on the planet, Athletes Edge. As the owner, Susan was teaching me about kinesio taping, her sister Laurinda entered the conversation.

“I saw you running on Wyoming today with those old trail shoes.”

“Yes,” I replied hesitantly.

“How many miles do you have on those?” She asked.

“About 400.” I said.

And the running store erupted with shouts of “No wonder!”

So, this week I am resting with my foot in an ice bath instead of running in the Albuquerque Half Marathon.

The moral of the story: always listen to the people at the running store and take care of your feet!

 

With the spirit of Caballo Blanco

Floating downhill

April Snow

Arms extended

Face up

A million bits of snow

Nipping at my cheeks

The biggest smile

Stretched across my face

Like a childhood action figure

How many chances do you get

To run in April flurry

With the spirit of Caballo Blanco

Remembering Caballo Blanco

I never had the opportunity to meet Micah True (aka Caballo Blanco). Like millions of others, I first read about him in the pages of Born to Run. And, like millions of others, this morning my heart broke when I heard his body was discovered in the Gila Wilderness. (See story at http://abcnews.go.com/US/ultrarunner-micah-trues-body-found-mexicos-wilderness/story?id=16048218)

While my knowledge of Micah is not unique, his story inspired me to run and live differently. Rather than running races to elbow people out of the way to win a medal, Caballo Blanco advocated for people to run loose, easy, free, and with joy.

Micah’s passion inspired me to greater distances with greater joy. It was with this inspiration that I ran the Ghost Town 38.5 ultramarathon in January 2011. Ironically, it was in this same wilderness that Micah ran his last steps at the young age of 58.

Near the end of the book Born to Run, Micah is presented with the opportunity to make money with a race sponsorship. He replied to the offer with the following words, “I don’t want anyone to do anything except come run, party, dance, eat, and hang with us. Running isn’t about making people buy stuff. Running should be free, man.”

May we all aspire to run, live, and love with the freedom of the legendary Caballo Blaco, man.

Back Lit

Lost in mountain shade

Then, back lit by morning sun

My own form takes shape

You can’t get there from here

If Albuquerque ever needs a motto, I would suggest “You can’t get there from here”.

When we first moved to Albuquerque, I could frequently point to the places I wanted to go, but just couldn’t drive from where I was to where I wanted to be. Over the last three years, I have learned how to navigate the elusive streets of Albuquerque. However, today I found myself saying once again, I can’t get there from here.

Before heading out on an 18 mile run on a cold, windy morning, I mapped out my journey. From the satellite view, I could see a trail that wound through the Rio Grande Open Space area and connected with a road to home. At first, all went well. My legs turned over quickly on soft trails as Tom Waits and Flaming Lips serenaded me. My mile splits were consistently even, this was one of the best runs of my life.

That was until the hated “no trespassing” sign halted me. Not only did the sign from the Sandia Pueblo say “No trespassing,” but also said “Violators will be prosecuted” with the word prosecuted strongly underlined. I could see the trail continuing in front of me, but I had no idea how strict they acted on those prosecutions. With an empty water bottle in hand, I thought about risking it and claiming dehydration as my defense. However, that underlined word made me think it wouldn’t be worth the hassle.

I have to admit, that I had no idea how close I was to where I wanted to be. After downloading my run, I discovered I was only one third of a mile from connecting to the road for home. Instead, I had to run two miles back from where I came and reroute my path home.

A third of a mile, Albuquerque? Really? You really can’t get there from here.

Registration times two

I just registered for the Albuquerque Half Marathon on April 22nd….

I wish they all could be California… trails!

For those of you who know me, there are a couple of things that I might do well, but sleeping is not one of them.

So what do you do when you are on vacation and cannot sleep?

a. Take a sleeping pill

b. Count sheep

c. Heed your inner Pete Garrett as he compels you, “Better run to the top of the mountain“

If you answered “c” you are correct.

While sane people slept, I ran 1,500 feet straight up a mountain.

Climbing the mountain before sunrise

Towards the peak

 

The seat from which I watched the sunrise.

 

 

The view from 1,500 feet

 

3.5.2012

I forged my own trail

until the cactus bush bit

needles and hard wood