Singletrack Guy
A former Midwestern trail junkie, now running and bumming around the foothills of The Rocky Mountains. Living the dream.
Friday, March 29, 2019
Sawmill Ultra Race Report and other stuff...
Well, if memory serves the only race I’ve done since the Pikes Peak Ascent fiasco was the Sawmill Trail Run at White Ranch in December. This is a Human Performance Running Series event with a 27k or 55k(ish) option. I ran the 55k. I had been feeling particularly good going into this race and having easy access to White Ranch definitely helped me confidence going in. I ran a 7:33, good for 20th. As always with an HPRS race, a well organized, simple, old school race put on by Sherpa John. If you want to get back to the basics of trail and ultra running, HPRS is the place to go.
I am not going into a full race report, too much time has passed, but I was particularly happy with my finish. My previous two HPRS races at White Ranch, both times the Tommyknocker 12 Hour, my finish had been a pitiful hobble. Despite covering a similar distance in less time at Sawmill, I actually finished in quite good shape running pretty much all of the last few miles. Not gonna lie, it felt good to be able to bomb at the end and actually catch and pass a couple people. I have definitely learned a little about how to roll with the highs and lows of an ultra distance. After a particularly brutal climb to start the second loop at Sawmill, I easily could have said “well my actual running is pretty much over!” But I knew that I could recover and that was just a low spot in the race. This shit is so mental!
Cooper also ran this race, his first ultra distance, and performed great. I saw him once durinG the race (both figure eight’s go in opposite directions at Sawmill) and he happened to be on the aforementioned climb at that time. I am taking full credit for him rallying from that point and passing a couple guys to finish second in 5:52! No doubt in my mind it was mostly due to my expert fatherly advice. Or it may just be because he is an awesome, determined runner and he trained hard. You make the call. I’m going with the former.
Well, I continued to feel really good ofter Sawmill. That was until a recent series of calf injuries that started with me running in some sloppy snow, conditions that have never agreed with my body for some reason. I haven’t had to take any long stretches off, but it has been a serious disruption and running any kind of elevation with a calf strain just doesn’t work out that well. I have been fortunate since we moved close to Standley Lake, which has miles of dirt trails and gravel roads and is reasonable flat. I’ve been getting some decent miles in there and I really love the place. The last couple weeks I’ve been getting out into the foothills on the weekend and getting some elevation in so things are looking up.
The calf injuries have thrown my plans into neutral. I originally planned to return to The Palmer Lake Death Race and go for 100. It’s next month so that obviously isn’t going to happen. I could still jump into it if there are spots open and just put a long day on the feet in, but I doubt I will do that. The Tommyknocker 12 Hour is in mid-May and I think there are still spots open, plus a half marathon option if I want to go that route. I am seriously considering going “ultra-free” in 2019 and doing some shorter, steep mountain and trail races. Stay tuned!
I also have some non-race projects I am considering. First and foremost is to summit Pikes Peak. Since the Ascent debacle robbed me of a summit (and I’m surely never entering that
race again in this lifetime), it’s on me now to do it. I definitely want to “run” it, not just hike it. I’m not sure whether I actually want to go up and down, or just up. Transportation down could be an issue though. I’ll have to work that out but that is going to happen this year.
Other routes I am hoping to do are The Boulder Skyline Traverse, an out-and-back of The Beaver Brook Trail (Coop and I ran there from the south side this winter. Amazing!), and perhaps the Maroon Bells Four Pass Loop. I would also like to do some less-popular 13ers and 14 ers, possibly with some off trail linkups but we will see. Only so many summer weekends between cross country and track season!
Speaking of that, I am still assisting with Arvada West Distance in the fall and spring. I would label myself a “professional encourager” and deal mostly with the JV. My goal is to get as many of them to train year round (unless they are in another sport season of course) and feed our varsity. Great kids that work hard. It’s been super rewarding.
Claire is in the midst of her first collegiate outdoor track season right now. She finished 8th in the indoor 3k in the super tough and big RMAC! She has her sites set on scoring again in outdoor in the 10k and already posted a converted time 38:11 (or pretty close, my memory is getting foggy due to advanced age) so she is doing great! It is certainly nice to have her close enough I can go to the majority of her meets. Gina and I just went down to Pueblo for a Thursday meet! Couldn’t do that when Coop was in Monmouth!
Sunday, August 26, 2018
2018 Pikes Peak Ascent Race Report
Unfortunately, my first post in over a year is most definitely not a positive one. You will be hard pressed to find a morsel of goodness in it.
Last year I did the Barr Trail Mountain race. It climbs about 3,500 feet or so from the town of Manitou Springs, up the Barr Trail to Barr Camp, roughly halfway to the top of famed Pikes Peak. A great time was had by all. It’s a great race that my son Cooper did this year and we both plan on doing next year. It’s small, inexpensive, and fun. But mostly really did it to qualify to run the 2018 Pikes Peak Ascent, a race in which you climb the same Barr Trail but instead of turning around at Barr Camp you keep on going and summit Pikes Peak, almost 8,000 feet above where you start in Manitou Springs. So with some experience on the trail and my qualifier in the bag, I forked over my $160 bucks earlier this summer and secured my spot.
My training did not go great (I was admittedly fairly lazy) and I mangled my big toe running barefoot a couple weeks before the race but I was plenty ready to get to the top of that beast of a mountain, of that there was no doubt. I figured I was on track to summit about 4 1/2 hours after the start. So I got up at 4 on race day with Gina and Coop and we headed down to The Springs. Got registered, dropped off my sweat check gear so I would have warm clothes up top, and got in line for the pre-race piss. I was yapping with three dudes from Chicago when a bearer of bad news ambled by and told us that the race had been shortened due to concerns about the weather in the afternoon at the peak and everybody would be stopped at Barr Camp, where the race would officially end and we would then hike/jog back down the same trail. This is literally about half an hour before the start.
I think I was too stunned to initially be disappointed. One of the Chicago guys was understandably super pissed. It took me about ten minutes to process.
Then I too, was super pissed.
Now I would like to say I was angry because of all the people who had flown from around the country, some several days earlier to acclimate, and had trained for months and months. I DID feel for them. But since running is a primarily selfish endeavor, I was irate because I would not be going to the top of Pikes Peak that day, plain and simple. While my training had been a bit unfocused and haphazard, I HAD trained and WAS ready and would certainly have been to the top long before any afternoon storm rolled through. I seriously contemplated a DNS. Gina, Coop, and I were planning on visiting Claire at CSU Pueblo after the race. Could have just gotten a head start on that. But I lined up instead though I was not even attempting a positive attitude.
Let’s pause here for some quick analasys of the situation. Yes, apparently the forecast was rough for the afternoon. But for those not familiar with Colorado 14er weather, there is a chance of storms literally every other day at the peak of every 14er. Which means you get up there early and get down. If race officials are concerned that some slower Ascenters (I think I made up a word there but probably not) could not get up before the weather hit then simply lower the cutoff times at Barr Camp. Problem solved. You can’t make it to Barr by 9:30 or 10 (first race wave started at 7) you don’t get to go on. Sucks for them, but oh well. At least the opportunity to finish is there.
Anyhow, back to the race itself. We are glumly waiting for our wave to start. I was in the third wave so I was leaving at 7:06. Part of the adjustment to not going to the top was the waves were leaving every two minutes instead of one. What difference would this make with 2,000 people on a trail? I’ll tell you. None. Absolutely zero. Also, a word of advice to the person manning the mic at the start line. Stop trying to pep people up and asking why the lack of enthusiasm thirty minutes after essentially cancelling a race. Nobody wants to hear it. Read the freaking room.
So my wave goes off. Despite a good mile or more of wide street running before we hit the trail, it’s a non-stop conga line that doesn’t end until maybe a mile before we hit the end/turnaround at Barr Camp. Now I readily admit that I knew it would be like that going in. You can’t put 2,000 people on a trail and have it not be jam packed. But it was worth it when we were going to Pikes Peak. Now that we weren’t, and people were now coming down the same trail after the turnaround, it just sucked and pissed me of further. All of this reinforced why I normally don’t enter large, corporate, “bucket list” races. If you wanted to pick up your pace, forget it. By the time it loosened up enough to run, after about five frustrating miles, I frankly didn’t give a shit anymore. I got to the timing mat at Barr Camp, did an about-face and headed straight down and ignored the lame attempt at a finish line party they seemed to be trying to pull off.
Adding to my shit mood was the fact that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. According to a message board post I read later on it was sunny at the peak at 4:00. So there is that.
So I headed back down Barr Trail. Now that people are headed up AND down you can predict how fun that was. The last three miles or so we could actually move and run so that was briefly not awful until we had to run the sidewalk through Manitou Springs shoppers and tourists to get back to the start. That’s not their fault and I did get a couple high fives from some little kids so that was cute, but overall dodging people on a sidewalk downtown is not a great way to end a total trash day.
I met up with the family, got my sweat bag, which they had moved all of about one hundred feet from where I dropped it off, got my shirt and medal and left immediately. The shirt I will keep to maybe run in, but will never wear other than that. I would take it to a Goodwill but I don’t want some asshole buying it and walking around claiming he finished the Pikes Peak Ascent. I will keep it in a drawer forever or set fire to it rather than let THAT happen.
The medal was thrown in the first dumpster I saw.
So let’s get into this.
This was the Pikes Peak Ascent. In my mind the cancellation policy (because that is precisely in my mind what it was: a cancellation. They tried to mollify us with a group hike up to Barr Camp) should be something akin to the cancellation of most ultras and mountain races. You pretty much DON’T. It has to be the apocalypse. If you are going to cancel because of the possibility of an afternoon storm, then start putting on road races or track meets. The Ascent is a TRAIL race up a MOUNTAIN. We all signed waivers. We all got the email about carrying proper gear in case of weather conditions. If that’s not enough to cover your asses as far as liability goes then don’t put on a mountain race. That race was full of experienced mountain/trail runners, triathletes, ultra-marathoners etc. Generally, people that are tough, in great physical condition, and understand what they are getting into. This isn’t the group that runs the local recreation trail 5k. Don’t baby us. People travelled from all over the country, planned and trained for months and you cancelled the race as easily as somebody would cancel Wednesday evening bingo at the church. And then expected a bunch of enthusiasm at the start line? And if you do cancel it because of a terribly dire, life-threatening storm? You might want to make damned sure you are right. It better be so bad it makes people start building an arc. Nobody wants to look up eight hours later and see a peak bathed in sunlight and stare at a finishers medal they didn’t actually earn because they weren’t allowed to.
Phew! Well, I consider it a lesson learned. I’ve always pretty much avoided the over-priced, over crowded, destination type races until now. And this is just a monstrous example of why I will probably avoid them like the freaking PLAGUE for the rest of my life. I will likely go to the top of Pikes Peak via the Barr Trail. But it will not be in the Pikes Peak Ascent or Marathon. Fool me once...
My advice to anybody thinking about doing the Ascent in the future? Be warned, from this point on you can assume it's going to be cancelled if there is any chance of foul weather, which is to say it's a 50/50 proposition at best. You are probably better off doing the full marathon. That's their baby. The uproar over cancelling that would likely be too great for them to consider. Or avoid both races altogether. That is what I'm going to do. There are lots of other races to do that are cheaper, smaller, and frankly, better.
Until next time...
Saturday, July 15, 2017
Tommyknocker 12 Hour Race Report, 2017
I thought I left this bullshit in the Midwest. Ugh. Well, it definitely not hot! |
Runners heading up Purgatory |
A great view of White Ranch and the flatlands.... and my thumb |
Luckily the race director Sherpa John decided to take the yellow loop out of the equation for the safety of the runners and to prevent some serious trail damage from occurring with the worsening muddy conditions. I can't tell you how relieved that made me. I knew from experience that the yellow loop late in the day could be an awful, soul-crushing exercise with a lot of cursing involved. So let's just say I was far from upset that there was no possibility of having to do yellow again that day.
Despite the conditions things were gong really well. I though I might have a legit shot at my forty mile goal! I was in and out of the aid station quickly, fueling was seemingly going pretty well and I was still going fairly strong. That all came to a screeching halt around mile 30 or so. I think it was the last couple miles of a red loop that did it. Or maybe it was orange. Did I even DO an orange loop? Shit. Who knows? It quickly became a blur of shuffling and desperation. That's a fact.
Had to navigate around this downed tree a couple of times. Reminded me of the old days at Mississippi Palisades. They NEVER cleared the trees at Illinois parks! |
One of my goals was that, unlike last year, I would actually be running a good portion of Purgatory back down to the finish. How hard can it be to save enough to do some solid running on a 5.5 miles (mostly) downhill? Apparently it's very, very difficult cause I can't freakin figure the shit out. I took some time in the aid station considering whether to try another loop but I knew if I did I would probably not make it back to the finish within the 12 hour time limit. Just like last year I was walking just about 90% of the journey back down Purgatory. Crap. I just gotta get more training mileage in next time.
All in all I was happy with my day considering the first few hours were on deep, wet, slippery snow (which resulted in a couple nice falls that took some zip out of me) and the rest of the time the trails were literally like running through an endless mud puddle. My feet were so wet for so long I didn't even notice after awhile. I got in almost 35 miles with about 9k of elevation (I'm guessing there, since I can't remember my exact loops I can't add it up and I don't wear a watch) and in those conditions I consider that a success for me. I dry conditions I would have gotten over my goal of 40 I expect.
Like a pro shot there. No? Damn. |
Many thanks to Sherpa John from Human Potential Running Series and all the volunteers that manned the aid station and marked the course the day and night before. Had some nice company and conversation with Jaime from the 24 hour this spring, Ernie from Ft. Collins (If I remember correctly), and some others who's names I did not catch/cannot remember. Great, inspiring people who were absolutely crushing it!
Hopefully the family schedule allows me to run this race for the third time next year. The snow caused my daughters state track race to be rescheduled for the same day as Tommyknocker (it was just a relay, no big deal. If it had been the 3200 I'd have been there) and next year she will likely be running state and graduating that weekend PLUS my son will have his college graduation and final track meet at the same time as this great race so we will just have to wait and see.
Next up on the Guy Pauley race calendar? The Barr Trail Mountain Race. Tomorrow. Starts at the base of Pikes Peak and climbs over 3,500 feet to Barr Camp and back down over 12.6 miles. Qualifies me to enter the Pikes Peak Ascent Ascent next year.
Be good to each other!
Thursday, April 20, 2017
Race Report: 24 Hours Of Palmer Lake Fun Run (Death Race)
But first off, my training. I had really begun training for this event back in the fall by trying to get out every day if possible for at least two or three miles. I have never been an every day runner but I felt this was a big step if I really decided to do this race. I had a couple of pretty decent streaks over the fall and winter, one just over 40 days in a row around October and November and one well over 60 closer to the race date. In my typical fashion, I didn't have a real detailed training plan. With about two months out I set weekly mileage goals and that was about it. I also tried to mimic the race by running mostly flat-ish. Some trails in the foothills with minimal elevation gains and a LOT of miles on the grass and dirt trails alongside the Ralston Creek bike trail. Let me tell ya, I got pretty damned sick of that trail by the time race day rolled around.
I had a couple rough weeks in there where I was supposed to be running 55-60 miles and only got in around 40-45 but all in all it went well. Got a couple good training runs of about 20 miles and some nice weekends with 30 miles or more. The last two weeks went particularly well so I had some good confidence going into the "Death Race" that I could pull off my goal of 50 miles in less than 12 hours. As an added bonus, my wife Gina had decided to not only crew me but to enter and run a half marathon distance since she had planned on doing three of those this year anyway. So I would have some company for at least a little while.
A generous 8 o'clock start time meant we had plenty of time to get up and make the hour drive to Palmer Lake without having to stay overnight anywhere. We pulled in around around seven and got set up. Tents were going up all over the place by people planning on running/crewing/hanging out for the whole 24. I expected a cool, laid back vibe and that's exactly what we got. Most of the runners milled around casually, setting up their areas and exuding confidence.
Gina and I got our little spot right by the trail set up and at we were soon off and running. My general plan was to try to cover at least 20 laps of the .82 mile trail every four hours since I would need 61 laps to top the 50 mile mark. Gina was already altering her plan after I informed her that anything over 26.2 would make her an official ultra runner. She was planning on taking the occasional lap off wile I was planning on doing some walking every once in a while to try to save and much energy as possible. And boy, would I do some walking brothers and sisters.
The first sign of trouble was about four miles in when I could feel my quads were already a little sore. This made absolutely zero freaking sense since the loop is about and flat as it could be and I had no problems with my quads during training. I checked with Gina a few times to make sure we weren't going a lot faster than I thought (since I dislike the GPS she was wearing it). Nope, just a shade under 12 minute per mile pace, perfect. Logically there was no reason for the steadily worsening ache in the front of my thighs. But there it was.
By around mile twelve or fifteen (hard to remember when one is trotting around in circles) I was inexplicably in as much pain as I have ever been in while running. I had an especially worrisome pain running from my left hip all the way down to the inside of my knee. I was soon reduced to an ugly shuffle/walk, and even that was difficult. It got bad enough at one point I was sitting in the dirt on the side of the trail trying in vain to stretch out. I could not understand what was happening. This was looking to be an embarrassingly short ass day! I was very close to what would amount in my mind as a DNF. A total flame-out. A ridiculous friggin' farce!
I will easily admit I was in a bit of a panic and the "Pauley" in me was starting to come out, which is a cute was of saying I was getting super pissed. I may not like following real detailed training plans and I imagine I do a pretty good job of making it appear like I have this totally laid back approach to my running, but make no mistake: I do not like to fail and I hate to lose. However, I was losing a mental battle with myself, already envisioning wasting months of training by slinking home humiliated from a 24 hour race with a measly twenty sad, pitiful miles or so. The prospect of that looking more and more to be the likely result literally brought tears to my eyes.
Gina to the rescue! Even though she was surely tired of listening to me slowly work myself up into a tantrum of defeat she kept making suggestions until my negative, idiot mind could fend them off no longer. She also left me alone for a couple laps, which helped in two ways. For one, it forced me to quit audibly bitching to her and try to focus and relax. And secondly, I fell into conversation with an experienced ultra runner named Jamie that listened to the short version of my tale of woe and shrugged it off with a "shit happens during ultras!" type thing and gave me some kind words of encouragement. Soon after I just sat down for a good while, put some Hot Pepper Sha-Bang muscle rub on my traitorous quads and chilled out.
Somehow through this all I had found myself with about 24 laps (just short of 20 miles) in at the four hour mark, when we had to reverse our direction to clockwise. This was four laps more than the bare minimum I had planned on completing during that time. It was a nice buffer to have since I was now doing very little in the way of actual running, but I WAS feeling a bit better. Gina was in pursuit of her first ultra distance which she would need 34 laps to complete. She reached that mark right at the time I finished my 40th lap, about 2/3 of the way to my goal. I was so incredibly proud of her. Not only had she covered an ultra distance with not even close to proper training (one tough cookie!) but she had helped me salvage my wreckage of a race at the same time. She truly is the best!
Now I was on my own. I can't recall where I was time-wise at this point but I had lost my buffer and then some. I still had hope to cover 50 miles but it was not looking that good to be honest. I would be there until midnight walking the rest of this at 3 1/2 mph! I was not going to make Gina sit shivering in a lawn chair until then, waiting for my hobbling ass to stroll my way to my goal. But hey, as I stated in my last blog post, what would Gary Robbins do? So I got to business and started running. And holy Hell, wouldn't you know it? I actually felt pretty good! I could achieve a fairly comfortable shuffle.
I chatted with a few great people the rest of the way, sympathized internally when I saw others that were struggling like I had earlier, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I probably ran about 60% of the distance the rest of the way. Things got pretty rough with a few laps to go, I was getting a bit loopy and, excruciatingly, kept thinking I had fewer left than I had. Weirdly, I often thought I could hear somebody running up behind me when there was nobody there. I don't know if this was a crazy echo effect or an auditory hallucination and I never had the guts to ask any other runners if they were experiencing the same thing! I also saw the most beautiful star filled sky since I lived in the Midwest!. But I made it, sucking it up and running most of that final lap. I finished my 50 miles in about 13 hours and 15 minutes or so I guess, at that point I wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to the time at that point. I was just happy and sore and glad to be done.
Because it was run around one short loop and everybody's camp was right by the trail, this race was a great opportunity to observe and learn from other runner since you saw everybody over and over and over. I was surprised how often the top runners, those clearly gunning for 100 miles, took breaks. I assumed they would just make super quick pit stops and keep moving. But most seemed to be smartly pacing themselves, taking time to sit down (except Jaime, who incredibly had not yet sat down when I left!), cook something, change shoes, etc. Some also did a fair amount of walking as a way to try to recover a bit while on the move.
I do believe this is the most impressive bunch of athletes I've ever been around. Persistence and perseverance personified! Eleven of them completed 100 miles. Eleven! I did 50 miles, to some a unfathomable number to run in a day, but 48 people did more, including an 11-year-old girl that did 50.8 miles! Two siblings, one eleven and the other ten, completed 42.2 and 29.5 miles respectively. Two runners over sixty ran their age or over and a 71-year-old woman covered 53.3. It's absolutely incredible and inspiring what those people did that day and night. Gina and I are already penciling ourselves in next year if Claire's track schedule doesn't conflict with it.
Until next time...
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
More trail Magic at the Barkley Marathons
Both were favorites, if there is such a thing in a race that has known only fourteen finishers, to defeat the trail in the 2017 version this past weekend. They stuck together for the most part through the first four loops until race rules forced them to go in opposite directions for the fifth and final loop, a good amount of which was going to be run in the dark and in rainy, foggy conditions. It was going to take a hell of an effort for either or both to finish.
Kelly did prevail with about 30 minutes to spare under the 60 hour cutoff, conquering the Barkley beast on his third attempt. The dude who used to hike with his family as a kid on the trails of Frozen Head had become just the fifteenth finisher of the famed Barkley marathons. An even better story was the non-finish of Robbins, however. The bearded Canadian's race ended in heartbreaking fashion when he touched the yellow gate six seconds too late and from the wrong direction. He had gotten his pages from all the books on the loop but then lost his bearings and took the wrong route back to the finish, disqualifying him even if he had made it back under 60 hours.
Watching the video of Robbins' finish and the immediate aftermath is something so simultaneously gut-wrenching and wonderful, it's difficult to process. Robbins is so clearly, utterly physically and emotionally wrecked you just want to reach into the computer somehow and hug the guy. Also, despite outwardly taking a gleeful satisfaction in watching runners fail miserably at his event, director Laz (Gary) is visibly moved by Robbins effort and his coming up just short of an official finish. The embrace the two share over the famed gate says everything without anyone having to say a thing.
Robbins' herculean effort at the 2017 Barkley is simply one of the most inspirational things I've ever heard of or seen. That guy laid everything on the line in a way that almost none of us ever will, for anything, ever. And to come that close to doing something that is bordering on impossible and have it ripped away because of one costly mistake, and then to handle it with so much class and dignity... well let's just say it's incredibly emotional to witness on video, I can't imagine what it was like for those that were there in person. In my opinion Gary Robbins did something amazingly heroic for 60 hours and 6 seconds and it doesn't matter that he is listed as a DNF on the results. He struck a chord with a lot of people on April Fools weekend 2017 and he's got a fan for life in me.
I am about a week and a half out from the 24 Hours of Palmer Lake Fun Run, and frankly I've been pretty burned out with the training lately. I haven't gotten the planned mileage in the last couple of weeks and mentally I haven't been too strong lately. I am still going for my planned 50 miles and hoping to get that in within twelve hours. And when things get rough on that Saturday and I want to quit, I am going to ask myself, "What would Gary Robbins do?"
And then I'll just keep going.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Training, this years races, and other random stuff...
Here is a super impressive feat: Ultra-marathoner Micheal Wardian won the World Marathon Challenge recently, running seven marathons on seven continents in seven days. and averaged just a shead of 2:45 doing it. Read more about this miraculous achievement here. Retired elite marathoner Ryan Hall also completed it, the last marathons he will ever run.
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Identity As A Runner
Today Facebook, thoughtful as ever, brought up my memories, which as most of you know is a regurgitation of your old posts, friends made, etc. on that day in years past. Yeah, I'm being a bit of a smart aleck about it but it is actually pretty interesting many times and this is one of those times.
Anyway, according to the sluggish media giant allI posted five years ago this day that while on a walk I had jogged up a few hills. If you don't know me well or were not aware, on the day before thanksgiving of 2011 I suffered a neck injury, a bulging disk that pinched a nerve. It was a freakish thing, starting that day with a sharp pain while bending over to pick up a paper I had dropped on the floor and yawning at the same time. By the end of that evening I was in severe pain at an ER and I spent two weeks on my back doped to the gills. It wasn't until this day five years ago that I began cautiously returning to running.
The reason I bring this up is that was the first time I had ever been totally out of commission running-wise since I began hitting the roads a few years earlier. I remember being pretty sure I was done running for a long time, maybe for good. I had pain every time I walked, hit a bump while driving, anything that caused the least little bouncing of my body. Particularly scary was when I tried to put a gallon of milk in the fridge with my left arm only to find I could not lift it high enough to get it onto the shelf. Hard to imagine doing much physically when you cannot arm curl a gallon of liquid a few inches!
Worse than the physical toll of that injury, though, was the mental part of having running suddenly ripped away from my life. I won't lie. I was seriously depressed for a few weeks there. I felt a real loss, almost as if a loved one had passed away. My drug cocktail probably wasn't helping things in that regard either, but I was shocked how much it was effecting me mentally. I felt similarly later on when I had to resign my coaching positions to move to Colorado. In both cases I really couldn't believe how difficult it was for me to rally and get through it emotionally.
As time goes on however I am coming to realize that it really only not being able to run (or coach) that was truly bothering me, though that was definitely part of it. Mostly it was because my identity as a runner (and later as as running coach) wad gone or in jeopardy of being gone. At the time of my neck injury I was living in tiny Lanark, Illinois, a town the size of which meant that everybody knows everybody else. Me and my family were a big part of the running community in the town. My wife and I had both run a marathon, I had started running some longer trail races and my son was making a name for himself in the area as a distance runner.
Suddenly I was questioning myself big time. If I could not run, if i wasn't that dude everybody in town always saw running around all the time, then who was I? I had a run of the mill, ordinary job. I didn't really "do" much, at least in my mind, except run. I was a runner. And the worst part was until i couldn't do it anymore, I hadn't even been introspective enough to realize how much of my identity was tied up with running. I was completely blindsided by the entire experience.
Eventually and gradually, with a lot of help from my chiropractor, traction, and time, my neck got better and I did return to running as before. And I think I learned quite a lot from the entire ordeal. When I had to give up coaching a few years later, and also had my running seriously curtailed by a bout of ulcerative colitis just before that, I like to think I handled it better. Maybe I did. Maybe not. What would happen right now if I faced another long stretch of time when I couldn't run? Or worse yet, couldn't run at all anymore? I can't say for sure.
Right now I am running more than ever. I recently had a streak of 41 days straight broken only because of a travel day to the Nike Cross Regionals to watch my daughter and her team. Last fall I ran my first ultra. From the outside it would appear that I am loving running more than ever and it's true. I am. It's kind of hard not to when you live fifteen minutes from their Rocky Mountains foothills! But I know that in part it's also because I am a small fish in a small pond and just trotting out some miles a few times a week just doesn't feel like it cuts it.
And that's ok.
Whew! Well that's enough off that!
"Running should be free, man."
Caballo Blanco