No Way to Make My Monthly Goal ... and I'm Happy!

After a metric century last weekend, and another one this coming weekend, with a nice mountain climb sandwiched in between, there's no way I'm realistically going to hit my 150 miles running this month.  I'll still give it the old college try, as it were, but whatever.  The point of being healthy is the ability to enjoy things like this. 

Example #1 of enjoying good health was today's activity.

My brother-in-law, Gene, and I hiked Mt. Wrightson, a 9453 foot peak that dominates the local skyline, at least within a 60 mile radius of its granite peak.  It's rumored that back in the days of clean air and polyester (1960's), one could view the Gulf of California from its peak!  (Today we had no such luck, the air quality was quite hazy due to high winds.)

The endeavor was in great doubt as Wednesday and Thursday I was struck with a strange lethargy...I didn't feel sick, but had an unbelievably low energy level, a sick stomach (to play a role later today), and was in as foul of a mood as I've ever experienced without cause.  To make things worse, I was super sore from just 10 miles of SLOW running over three excursions.

Friday morning I thought, "You get all the rest you need when you're dead," and said I'd the mountain a shot on Saturday morning.

I left home at 5 AM, drove to the mountain.  On the way up Madera Canyon (which is a crazy-bicycle ride climbing 3,500 feet in about 12 miles) I saw a group of three wild turkeys, pictured here.

 We headed up the trail, taking the short route, 5.4 miles to the peak, climbing a bit over 4,000 feet.  It was cool, and got colder as we climbed.  As we made it to Josephine Saddle, I was reminded of the boys that died on the mountain in the late 50's during a freak November snow storm.  I attended a speaking by a woman who wrote a book to record the story.  She was the younger sister of one of the survivors, and the entire event left a huge impression upon her.  As she aged she realized that the adults involved were dying and many of the artifacts and stories were disappearing, so she collected the information and wrote the book, "Death Clouds on Mount Baldy."    Here's the memorial:

We climbed for hours in the shade of the mountain.  As we climbed, the temperature dropped steadily.  As you can see here, we weren't dressed for it!

The views were AMAZING, way better than my little pocket camera could capture.

Before even reaching the peak we were significantly higher than the next highest mountain, which is in the same range, Mt. Hopkins, sporting a huge observatory.

Once at the top, the wind was CRAZY!  The view, while obscured by dust in the air, was still great, with vistas much farther than my camera captured.  In the picture below you can see where the water flows during the summer monsoons.  When down on the valley floor, one would have no clue!

As we hit the summit a voice said, "Did you see the bear?" 

It came from an elderly man that rested unseen against the remains of a former look out tower, or some such structure. He said we walked right past it.  Ugh...we talked about how we'd both would love to see a bear!

Talking to the man, he's climbed the mountain each weekend of the month, only failing to summit one weekend due to 6 foot snow on the trail.  How cool is that?

Soon another man, a bit older, joined us, then a pair of trail runners.  It was my first experience sharing a peak with someone not in my party.  But, it was nice and they took our picture.

On the way down, we both suffered greatly.  We both rode in a race last weekend, and our thighs were greatly taxed, and thus our knees grew tired.  For me, I always run in toe-shoes and my trail running shoes beat my toes to a pulp.  They're truly sore!

On the way down, the light was better for pictures, and it finally warmed up.  By the time we finished (due to dead thighs, the downward trip took longer and was more taxing than the trip up), it was quite warm.

On the way down, Gene's knee really hurt.  It slowed him greatly.  Mine hurt too, but my stomach began to really hurt.  I mentioned the stomach problems earlier in the week...well, I can't say anything delicately beyond I was happy to have brought toilet paper.  It was tricky though because there were lots of hikers on the trails and the slopes were incredibly steep just off the trail.  I've never had a problem like that and don't wish that on anybody!

As we approached the bottom of the trail we found a very young horned lizard (we call them horny toads).

I've known Gene since I was 14, and he was about 9.  His sister, now my wife, caught a horny toad and I traded her a poem I'd written for the lizard.  I kept it in a dresser drawer for a day and brought it back to her house the following day.  Gene wanted to hold it, I didn't want him to, and held my arm up high so he couldn't reach it.  He knocked my arm and the horny toad fell to the ground and out popped a bunch of babies!

We relived that moment while studying this little fellow.

All told, it was a GREAT day.  I will definitely be returning to these trails to do some training and running once I'm fresh and rested.  For those of you that are trail runners, how does this look:

I hope those reading had a wonderful Saturday and are, like me, enjoying good health.  I leave with a picture of me on the top of the mountain, that reminds me of the cover of "Born to Run."

As Advertised: Arizona's Toughest Trail Half Marathon

I came running down a dry creek bed, feet being swallowed by soft, course sand, the grit working its way into my socks.  My feet just conformed, relaxed in the sand.  I loved it.  It was soft, it was flat.  There weren't any foot grabbing crags, no two foot high steps, no drops requiring my hands on a boulder on each side of the trail, dipping myself down.  No cactus to avoid, sharp turns to catch and no stretches of trail just wide enough for one foot at a time.


I was thankful for the smooth terrain, the first I'd seen in nearly three hours. 

As I came around the slow bend, the finish line opened up before me ... and I was shocked.  There were people laying in the dirt, crying.  Runners were bloodied, others having cactus removed from various body parts.  There was a man with a blown knee being helped along...and all while the peppy music played.

My wife and mother were there, cheering me along.  They looked relieved.  It was an hour after my projected time!

As I came in a woman behind them said, "Oh, here comes the one with the hurt hip."  Shortly after I got there another man limped across and she said, "And he's got the busted ankle."

Runners trickled in, dazed, bleary eyed.  This raced fit its billing as Arizona's Toughest Trail Half Marathon!  The problem is ... that billing is on a website belonging to someone other than the race director, I didn't see it until after the race.

I came in with a time of exactly 3 hours, on the nose.  For a half marathon, crazy!  My first half marathon was 1:42 and change and I just BS'ed the entire run.  The winning runner today came in just under 2 and a half hours!

But I was whole, unbroken.  All the skin was on my body, save what was rubbed raw by my backpack (under my right arm and two spots on my lower back).

I ran with the lead pack for the first four miles, just going by how I felt.  I was going too hard, we all were, the climb was intense, the terrain 100% unforgiving.  But, I figured I'd slow down and relax once I got to the top.  Little did I know, that wouldn't happen for 4 miles!

When I reached the top my piriformis really hurt.  I tweaked it somehow during my duathlon three weeks ago.  I figured I'd baby it for a while and let it loosen, but as it turned out, jumping over boulders, twisting around and through rock slides while climbing or descending over 400 feet per mile, isn't a nice thing to do with a bum ... with a bum bum.  It progressively got worse and went from the okay kind of pain, to the watch out now or you'll be laid up for months kind of pain.

In hindsight, I think that was the best thing that could've happened.  I was beat and sore, but mentally fresh the whole run.  I ran with a young lady for a while and I began walking up the hills while she ran.  I stayed right with her!  She was stumbling and I feared she'd fall.  I feared a fall there would result in a broken arm or worse.  She was an experienced trail runner and discussed the importance of focus and how your mind can't wander for a moment out "here" or you'll be down.

I lost her, or she lost me, down the hills.  I limped down favoring my right leg, stepping up and down left leg first for 8 miles.  Now I know what the advice of a seasoned trail runner who said, "Run when you can, walk when you must," really meant.

After coming up lame I only passed one person, the man with the busted ankle.  I offered him help, but he was fine, just hurting.  We both had an opportunity to cut three miles off of the run and just limp back with a DNF, but neither of us did.  I can't say how long he though of it, but the thought crossed my mind for about a nano second ... I couldn't have lived with myself.

It was tough out there.  Shortly before the race, a repeat runner warned me, saying, "If you need rescue, the rescue vehicle will be a horse."

And what did I win for my completion?  Let me show you!

The race wasn't well organized, unfortunately.  The reason being that they expected around 30 to 40 people and had to turn people away after 80 showed up!  There were no emergency services, and they would have been used today.  There were fewer aid stations than advertised, even though they were said to be unmanned.  And, the description of the race was, "This is a challenging route."

Challenging:  The first mile was a fairly smooth incline, but the next three climbed 1200 feet total ... 1200 feet of rock.  The next two dropped just shy of 600 feet.  The next three each climbed and dropped about 300 feet, each.  That is, mile eight, for example, climbed 375 feet and dropped 313 feet.  Down again, up again.  You'd run two feet one direction, the next two feet in another, none of it remotely smooth.

And you know what ... I loved it.  It really felt like a sense of accomplishment.  But, this would not be a "B" type race, as I'd approached it.  Would I run it again?  Maybe, but it would have to be the focus of my training, not something to do to get a break from the bike!

And now for a few pics.  First up is the race support vehicle:

 

Did I mention it was rocky? 

Pre-race:

Cactus:

Sahuaro Cactus:

Some of the wild flowers:

I approach the finish as a pair of hikers leaving in the background:

 

Done and Done!

The spoils of victory:

I guess by the look on my face, I wasn't happy:

 

Dear Food:  Get in My Belly!

Whatchootalkinbout?

All said, this was more than I was ready for.  I need to shed some pounds, get into better running shape before trying something like this again.  But, all in good time. 

I've Gotta New Drug (Think Huey Lewis)

You know the song.  Well, I think I've found one.

It wasn't long ago that if I had some accumulating stress my mind would wander to beer.  Now, over the past 18 months I've drank on rare occasions and was never much for just getting hammered for the sake of being hammered.  But still, when stresses would build my mind would wander to beer.  I'd typically buy a high quality beer and some snacks, watch some movies or cook on the grill outside. I'd stay up until midnight or so, a few hours of quiet time, and feel much better the next day.

Then yesterday, I was thinking about all of the things going on, all of the stuff on the horizon and I thought, "I'd love go just bury myself in a race." It wasn't the type of thought that was a conclusion or decision, just a random thought that floated through my head.

And yeah, that's exactly what I want to do.  I want to sign up for some races and just tear it up!

That said, I have a half marathon (I mistakenly said half pikermi on FB today!) this Sunday.  It looks quite intimidating, definitely a place where I can just bury myself.

Many things brought this change, like change of life style and such.  But also because of increased endurance, more focus is required to have my heart rate where it should be.  On my long ride Sunday (76 miles I think), I focused on each mile being under 3:00 minutes.  I did that for 35 miles.  What was in my head ... nothing but mile 36. 

Sunday ... on mile 9, what will be on my mind?  Probably how much cactus is in my leg!

Suffering Will Occur - It is Certain

Suffering will occur - it is certain - but only serves to heighten our joy.  

I thought about that today as I ran.  I'm reading Marshall Ulrich's Running On Empty, and that's a quote he used during a eulogy.  The book is striking, as for me, was that quote.

Today I hit the trails again hoping to take in 10 miles.  The problem was, I didn't know if to the end of the trail and back was 10 miles and I feared it would be a bit less.  Since I missed yesterday's ride and run, I really wanted to get all 10 in.  Next Sunday I have a half marathon in some desert mountains north of Tucson.  It is going to be pretty challenging, I'm sure, and I want to get the last bit of hay in the barn, as it was.

For next weekend's race, I just don't want to be a liability on the trail.  I want to be strong and finish happy and smiling.  See, I've not been able to run very fast at all for a while now.  When I'm running mid 8 minute miles, I feel like I'm flying.  Before the hamstring injury, that was my long run pace.  I have to confess, I'm enjoying running slow.  Since I'm not training for a run at all, even that half marathon isn't a focus, it's not a big deal.  I hammer real hard on the bike right now, so my cardio is definitely there!

Let me rephrase...I'm happy running slow until I read posts by ForeverRun(a.a.a Sara).  Following her recovery from serious injury and her aggressive running makes me want to run hard!  But ... I can't just yet.  I can't risk further injury and I can't afford to derail my cycling goal with about 7 weeks left by running hard on iffy hamstrings.

I hit the trail today wearing trail shoes.  My feet were really hammered last week in toe-shoes.  Today, even in the trail shoes (with a rock plate), my feet were hamburger.  But, that's how it goes in Arizona!

I'd be following this jeep trial that winds around the hills dropping into the canyon that twists its way towards the mountain in the middle of the picture.  

I also took my camelbak today, along with some tunes.  I normally don't run with music.  I listened and plodded along slowly in the mid 9 minute mile range up the hill, then down into the canyon.  Once in the canyon the music was very distracting, so I shut it off and took some pictures of an abandoned truck. Think the sun is harsh in Arizona?  Check out what it did to these tires...just the radial belts remain!

 

Once I enjoyed geocaching, and had left one in this truck, but it has since disappeared.  Probably washed down the canyon in the summer monsoons.

Tell me, does this look like it could've been photographed in South Africa?

The trail got real slow.  I'm not sure if you can tell how steep and loose it is, but there's no running here.  Heck, most 4x4's can't drive here.

In case you can't tell...check out the elevation profile!

I wasn't worried about the time, I wanted to make it to the dam at the bottom and then maybe go a little farther exploring some, just making sure I got in my 10 miles.

The trail stopped about mile 4.  So I bushwhacked another mile up a narrow canyon.  This is drug trafficker heaven, but I knew I was following a group of border patrol agents on foot.  I saw their vehicles along side the trail and followed their footsteps up the canyon.  At one point, I swear I could smell cologne!  It's weird how silent it is out there and how heightened one's senses become.

The canyon narrowed and became cluttered with large boulders.  There was little to be done in way of making good time and I almost tripped a few times.

Look at the contrast a little moisture makes.  In the picture above, the ground was actually wet in quite a few places.  It's green (even though most of it burned last summer), and there were lots of flowers and butterflies.  But in the picture below I just turned and zoomed in up the hill side.

This poor oak tree didn't survive the fires this past summer!

And this is NOT a tan line!

All told I ran 10 miles, choosing to stop at 10, walking a quarter mile back to the truck.  The run included about 1300 feet of climbing, much of it stupid-steep.  I did make my last mile my best, at 8:23.  Only once did a muscle issue give me problems and it was short-lived.  I had a great day, suffered quite a bit...my feet are beat.  But, I really enjoyed the Thin-Mints I had after my run!

That said, Happy Running to All!

Trail Running

The Atascosa Mountains have always intrigued me.  In them live bears, mountain lions, coyotes and foxes, raccoons, coatamundi, javelina, tiny Coues whitetail deer, and very large mule deer.  Not to mention it's crawling with border patrol chasing around illegal immigrants.  And perhaps the craziest thing, there are jaguars that frequent the mountain range!  But definitely the most dangerous thing out there are the drug traffickers hauling loads of various types of dope north through the canyons.  In these mountains in the past two years there have been several bodies found (shoot outs between rival smuggler groups, supposedly), as well as the shooting death of a border patrol agent. 

Here's a picture I took of some mountain lion prints a few years ago:

I live in the foothills of those mountains, my bedroom window looks out on them.  I've done a bit of exploring through some of the trails, especially when I was into 4-wheeling.  But now I'm into running, not Jeeps.  I want to run those trails I used to drive.

Today I did a route that leads  right up to the very base of the mountain.  Last year at this time I'd ride this route on a mountain bike for a good workout.  Today, I'm dead legged from yesterday's windy 73 mile bike ride (I rode almost 200 miles this week!).  Things change, don't they?

I decided that I'd take my time and just relax, try to sneak in 8 miles on my tired legs.  I did a little warm up, threw on my toe shoes and trusty knee wrap (notice the excellent salt stains).  I need the knee wrap because sometimes one injury creates another.  Due to a weakened hamstring, I've developed some patellar tendon issues from riding with a muscular imbalance between the hamstring and quad! DOH!!

I knew I wanted to stop and take in some of the views and shoot some unworthy pictures on my phone.  Here's the first.

 As you can see, it's a hard packed road, and most of today's run was just that.  However, in toe shoes, that's not a fast surface.  Often it was like running on marbles (I imagine).  Again, today that was fine as I just wanted to go run around.

When I started I didn't warm up enough and my injured hamstring was quite tight.  So, I just went real slow until it loosened (about a half mile).  Everything felt great until I stopped to take a picture.  After that, my piriformis felt heavy, like lead.  Eh, what are you gonna do, stay home?

The terrain here is high desert, mostly grass land.  The mountains were covered in live oaks, but there were two huge fires last summer that denuded them. 

After running about three miles I happened across a military-type, 6X6 vehicle.  That's 3 sets of axles for a total of six wheels.  They were perched on a hillside looking south.

I'm pretty new to running and often learn things that are obvious to others.  Today I learned that when trail running, the terrain dictates the pace.  That goes doubly true for running trails in toe shoes!  However, they keep my stride short and form in check, so it's a good trade off!

Today's eight mile run capped off a monster week.  I missed a forty minute run due to the previously stated patella issue, but still amassed 207 total miles of running and riding.  I had three TOUGH rides where I started using my heart rate monitor to determine my pace instead of the speedometer. 

The last thing I wanted to share was this:

I mentioned the quote in my last post, but today I saw a similar picture.  I thought they fit together nicely.  For me, right now, all of that squiggely line in the middle is injury and dietary indiscretion.  :D

Almost Wasn't

This morning I woke thinking I would cash in my chips, cancel my run for the day and just ... watch television.  Of course I had to go get my hair cut, deliver some furniture and go to the dump first.  But otherwise, maybe I'd have a lazy day.

In the past fifteen days I've done at least some form exercise each day, and each day either a run or a ride.  I could use a day off.  I have a duathalon coming up in a week from today, and while I've not rested, my running has been very low-key (nursing a hamstring).

I thought:

...a day off is okay, you'll ride harder tomorrow because of it.

Run today...the race is coming up and there's no time to exercise this coming Wednesday or Thursday anyway.

Rest today because your legs are shot from yesterday's tempo ride.

Run today...it's the virtual run for Sherry Arnold. 

I ended up hitting the trail and had a great 8 mile run, my longest since the hamstring problem.  The day was beautiful, the trail, one of my favorites.  It has soft ground (some places thick sand), is neither flat nor hilly, neither windy or straight, tree-lined and very interesting.  There are old adobe homes from the 1800's as well as three plank bridges to cross.  It's a super interesting run, while being safe enough to get distracted from the trail temporarily now and again.

I ran a short leg of this trail about a month ago and loved it.  But I hadn't really been out there since last July.  I was happy to see the the bridges repaired and upgraded, shown below.  There's a group that helps maintain a few stretches of the trail, and I personally thank them.  It's an awesome thing.  Check out their site and see the amount of trash they fish out of the river during the monsoon season!

Above is one of the plank bridges.

Since I've been nursing the hamstring hoping to get it healed for next week's big race (for me it's big anyway), I've not pushed it at all.  In fact, on most of my runs I've not broken a sweat, and a few times I was freezing the whole way.  Also, since I'm training for a bike race and can't ride in the early mornings, I've not been able to run in the afternoons.  This afternoon, depending on how I felt, I'd see if I could push a bit on the 8th mile.

The first thing I noticed was that my pace was faster than it's been.  I was going completely by feel, but the first mile was 9:26.  I never felt the hamstring, and was just jogging along to warm up.  While still two minutes slower than I would hope to be healthy, it was encouraging to see some improvements.  I plodded along in the low-mid 9 minute range, save the 5th mile (nature called).  I struggled through a bit with some upset stomach problems, I'm not sure how to eat during the day if I run in the afternoon anymore!  But, when I started the 8th mile, I felt like I'd just run 7 miles, but otherwise fit as a fiddle.  I decided to see how my leg really was.

I steadily sped up, hoping that running down and up the dips wouldn't cause problems.  None did.  I finished the last mile in 7:39.  Stretching afterwards felt fine and now I'm sitting on ice hoping all is well tomorrow, too.

With that said, I've not done much trail running in the past few months.  I forgot how dirty my feet get.  When I stopped this is what I had:

Off and on I thought of Sherry Arnold, but more of her family and how she was taken from them.  I thought of how we often suffer during exercise, how she isn't suffering anymore, but her family surely is.  It reminded me of one reason I run.

I run because I can.  It's a gift, at a price.  It hurts, but that's kind of what makes it good.  It's unfair, and saddens and angers me, that Sherry had to pay her life for that day's run.  That was never the bargain.  And after thinking it over I compromised with myself.  What can I do?  Sadly, very little.

I think over some things like teaching my children awareness of their safety, talking to students about it.  But really, that's not it.  That's not what I can do to address what happened.  That's a different purpose, one of prevention.  That's preventing something similar from happening to my loved ones.

But what drove my thinking was compassion for her family more than for Sherry herself.  I finally accept the fact that there's a lot of hurt in the world and not a lot of healing.  There's no undoing a tragedy.  And suffering is something we will all face.  We all suffer and are burdened, and many of us in extraordinary ways.   

What can I do in response to Sherry Arnold's death? I can show compassion to others, even when they don't appear to deserve it.

What a great run I had.