Dirtbag Envy

Reading AJW's post on irunfar.com called Dirtbag Envy: A Midsummer Night's Dream, I found myself stuck on this passage:

"And that is what I admire and respect about these modern day vagabond dirtbags. These folks who drift from race to race, mountain to mountain, campground to campground. In the absence of small annoyances like jobs, mortgages, student loans, and car payments, these folks can truly ‘run free.’ They can control their lives on their terms and do what they love, day after day, as long as they want to. They truly are, living the dream."

As I sat on a disabled train this morning doing the math on a commute that was moving north of 2 hours one-way, I thought about the tent, pads, bags that sit collecting dust in my garage. This article comes up shining its light on the manic feeling I've had the last few weeks.

Definitely suffering from some dirtbag envy here.

Envy? More like borderline resentment. Every mountaintop lake instagram, every tweet about bubbling brooks burns me up.

I might start sleeping in the backyard.

From irunfar.com - That One Hill

I have my hill. That one hill. It is boring and it is long and I've run it more times in the last year than I can count. I will run it a few hundred more times. I think I'm starting to like it.

A Silly Project

I feel like I use this blog mostly to complain. What should have been thoughts about running became thoughts about not running. And so we begin...

0:56:53 - 6.53 miles (1300') - A Silly Project
I hadn't run this week (blah blah blah), so I figured I needed to make this one fun. It was an early morning run in 20 degree blustery winter feel. I needed this one to be more than a simple loop of the town so I finally veered off my regular path to attempt a silly little project that I've had in the back of my mind for a few months.

While tapping around at work I found that the highest point in the county is just a few miles away from my house. Not high by any one's standards, but still the highest bit of land around. I decided a while back that I was going to tag it to put it behind me.

I ventured out this morning thinking that I could get up there, snap a shot and head home, all within an hours time. I knew from the maps that I could get within about a half mile of the spot by a dead-end access road. From there I would have to bushwhack up a ridge to the high point.

I headed up the road but found that the hilltop was very well marked private land. There was a posting about every 50 feet along the road. I worked my way up the road to find a spot to bolt up the hill into the woods but couldn't find the spot. I eventually decided to attempt it again either early morning or around dusk when I would be less conspicuous. At exactly the moment I decided to move on and try another day, a big truck came down the road, slowing to my pace as I trotted back along the road. I gave a nod in the "I'm just out for a jog", and they moved on.

I think I need more projects like this to drive me in these low times. Devil's Path next summer should do it.

He Would Have Laughed by Deerhunter. Great song.

Week Ending 11/3/13

Be consistent.

Most would say that this is trick. Even if you only have a few minutes to get your run in, do it.

This is where I fail. I'm becoming quiet good at failing.

10/28/13

Mon - Nothing

Cold starting creeping in (thank you child that puts everything in your mouth). This will be a theme for the next two weeks as this thing destroys me.

10/29/13

Tue - Nothing

10/30/13 -10/31/13 - 11/01/13
More nothing. Getting good at it.

11/02/13
Saturday 1.0 - 0:43:42 - 4.63 miles (725') - Powerlines with a little added misery
Not my best one. Don't know if it was that I hadn't run in 6 days, the cold wreaking havoc on my body and mind, or the cheeseburger in my tummy, but this one was a sufferfest. Thought I'd do some repeats of my powerline climb but after the first one, nearly booted the lunch from a few hours earlier. Was going to bring it home after that but decided that if I was going to feel like crap, I might as well enjoy it. So, I linked up to my local trails and ran a few more miles before calling it quits.

Saturday 2.0 - 0:30:00 - 2.00 miles (100') - Passaic River Parkway Trail w/Marcus
After my earlier failed run, took "The Tank" for a hike. Wearing him is good for my legs so it was nice to get out there for a little clean-out.

11/03/13
Sunday - 0:48:04 - 5.64 miles (1000') - Watchung Res to home by way of Pink Trail
Went to the nature center at Watchung Reservation with the family. Ran home from there. Pink Trail to a link-up with the road home. A lot of climbing for a short run. Tried to power through the climbs to make up for yesterday's failure. Felt like my first good run in a while.

Miles: 12.2

Hours: 2:01:46

Elevation: 1,825'

Don't know why I chose this one. Just takes me 

back to high school.

Finding Motivation

As winter darkness creeps in and the days get shorter, I discovered a timely post from Gary Robbins on finding that motivation to continue on, to keep moving when the weather heads south.

It's no secret that I've found it hard lately to strap on the headlamp and pound out miles on the dark streets and trails. Just as he states, for me it is not due to any physical issue. The struggle is all in my head.

So, I will try to use some of his numbered techniques to see if it can get through the darkness to my next big race.

I used #9 (Give it Twenty) this weekend and as always, it worked. I felt awful after a steep climb. My plan was to cruise down and do a few repeats of the hill, but after sweating my way up, I was more concerned with keeping my stomach intact. I was about to turn-in but I forced myself to take a right and veer off on a path that would draw a few more miles out of me. It med me tighten up an un-do whatever was done by my big lunch and big climb.

I got home a little more tired than I would have liked but with not a single regret about the run.

Why We Run

For those who have known me over the years or followed my ramblings on social media, they may have been witness to a fairly dramatic transition over the last two years. A few years back, I was not really a runner. I may have run occasionally when some bit of fear was chasing me, but I did not identify myself as a runner.

Now I talk, write, post constantly about running.  I think about it constantly, not only why I run, but why I now have to allow it to envelop me. I've attempted to write about this new identity before here on this blog, though I think I will be struggling with this one for years.

Enter the new episode from Solomon Running TV. Bernd Heinrich is an inspiration and captures the essence of what I have been chasing for some time. I could watch this man for hours.

"The essential thing is to run, period... and to do it for a long time, and consistently. Then everything takes care of itself."

Week Ending 10/27/2013

I was going into this week knowing that I had to turn some type of corner, that last week was a bottom. It had to get better.

Started the week well motivated and got out a few times. Eventually, the cumulative affect of two sniffly, snotty kids put an end to it.

I found redemption by getting out on the trails with some folks from my running club. It was cold, and a hard run, but it made up for the last two weeks of no effort.

10/21/13

Mon - 0:29:45 - 3.65 miles (275') - Short (cold) Loop

After basically the last week off from running, I finally dragged myself from the hole I've been living in to get a quick, very cold run under a morning nearly-full moon. I was caught off-guard a bit by the cold temp but it helped move me along. Feeling out of shape, but I was happy to know that I can still get up and get out at 5am.

10/22/13

Tue - 0:52:12 - 6.05 miles (800') - New Prov Loop w. Powerlines thrown in

Had a chance to get out and run when the sun was up so I threw in a quick climb of the powerlines. It's a 300' climb with an average grade of about 25%. Hard not to stop and enjoy the view, but I use this climb to find a quick burn before I hit the roads for a few miles.

View from the top of the powerlines. What you can't see if the drop-off.

10/16/13

Wed - Sick children had me up all night

10/17/13

Thurs - Ditto

10/18/13

Fri - Now I'm starting to feel the cold

10/19/13

Sat - 2:00:00 - 11.2 miles (1800') - Sierra Trail with Watchung Res. Running Club

Out for a very early, very cold morning run of the Sierra Trail. Again, hit the ridge line at sunrise. Got a spend a few seconds looking at the glowing horizon. Picked up the pace the last few miles and turned this into a tempo run. Overall, felt great but started to get sloppy towards the end. Nothing like catching a toe on a root and doing the 10-step catch-up-to-your-head-dance to wake you out of your morning fog.

Separate note, had an opportunity to discuss running The Devil's Path with Brett after the winter. I've been intrigued by this and was happy to find someone thinking the same thing as me. Going to have to spend the winter doing my research.

10/20/13

Sun - 1:00:00 - 3 miles (600') - Chimney Rock Park Trails

A family hike along Chimney Rock's trails. Roman lead the way. Legs were tight and ankle a little tender from some of my toe-slams from the day before, so this was a nice way to loosen up and enjoy some time with the family. I like hiking with Marcus attached. 25 lbs of weight is noticeable.

Miles: 23.9

Hours: 4:21:57

Elevation: 3,475'

Had to include something from this man. Had a big impact on my early years.

A Shameful Week

Let's see if this public shaming works as a motivator to get me out the door.

So, on to the last week's training ending October 13th. Another soft week in a month of soft weeks.

10/7/13

Mon - Nothing

10/8/13

Tue - 0:49:50 - 5.84 miles (825') - Powerline Loop

After a completely crap day at work, it felt good to get out in the dark and do some climbing. This loop winds gradually uphill through some local neighborhoods until I get underneath the lines and climb and old school trail. Weird to do this much climbing in the dark, but sometimes its better when you can't see the top. The woods were cool and misty. Felt the Halloween season approaching. A bit spooky.

10/9/13

Wed - Zilch

10/10/13

Thurs - 0:37:51 - 4.5 miles (375') - Summit to BK Heights (from the train)

Decided that I had to force myself to run (my little one has decided that sleep is for weaklings). I just haven't been able to get up at 5am to get on the road, so this time I packed my kit in a bag and brought it to work with me. On my way home, I jumped off the train a few stops early and ran it home. Nice run overall. Need to do this more.

10/11/13

Fri - Big plans but nothing came of it

10/12/13

Sat - Same a Friday

10/13/13

Sun - 1:05:00 - 6 miles (600') - Watchung Reservation (Off-trail and Sierra Trail)

Met up with Dave from the Watchung Reservation Running Club and his dog Sally for an easy run through the reservation. Took some semi off-trail routes which meant some leg shredding from under-used and over-grown trails. Overall, a nice run in the beautiful fall foliage.

Miles: 16.34

Hours: 2:32

Elevation: 1800'

To summarize, a pretty weak week. Consider me ashamed.

That Night I Dreamt of Rocks

"Philistines may think that we were madmen indeed to go through such suffering and danger to arrive at this lonely spot. What did you hope to find up there, they may ask. Glory? Nobody cares about young fools who waste their best years in meaningless combats far from the eyes of the world. Fortune? Our clothes were in rags, and the next day we would go back down to a life of slaving for the barest essentials. What we sought was the unbounded and essential joy that boils in the heart and penetrates every fibre of our being when, after long hours skirting the borders of death, we can hug life to us with all our strength." - Lionel Terray

I hit my time to taper down. Felt odd in that I was not really doing heavy mileage to begin with, but I knew that it was better to be under-trained than over. At least this is what I told myself each night as I tried to fall asleep.

I was under-trained. That was understood.

But would I be able to use the accumulation of miles over the last year and a half to get my ass through three rough ten+ mile loops. The race was put on by Rick at NJ Trail Series. I had run a few of their races before and found them to be well managed, well stocked, and tough.

Could I do it? One loop. Absolutely. I even imagined I could get through it quickly if necessary. Two, sure. Three… unknown.

That is the fun with doing a first ultra. One does not know how the day will go until one is deeply embedded in the situation. That is when you begin to understand what is possible.

So in my downtime where I wasn't running as much, I had to do something race related. I prepped. I pulled materials together and planned the nutrition strategy. I went through the hydration. Clothing needs, socks, shoes, contingencies. Over and over I laid it out and convinced myself that it was happening.

Night before the race I put it all out in the guest bedroom. I knew I’d be up at 4am packing it up and getting ready for the car trip to the start line. I could have done it in the dark by that point.

Like always, I got there early. The sun had not crested the hills yet as the first batch of runners left the start/finish line area. This group consisted of the few running the 100k (six loops) and a larger group taking on the 50 miler (five loops). There was an hour for nervous pacing and prepping before we 50k (three loops) runners lined up.

I had heard Rick’s start-line prep talk before. As he has mentioned on other courses, you aren't running by GPS distance, you are running his course. Don’t complain if is it is longer/shorter, rocky or rooty.

Loop one felt okay. It was hard but well within my wheelhouse. After the yelled "go!" we were off along a grassy stretch next to the road before we turned and headed up a rocky ATV road that headed into the Wildcat Ridge Management Area. After a brief climb we were onto some undulating single track that wound through the woods through weird Appalachian-style garbage dumps. Sadly, it reminded me of dump areas you would find in some backwoods areas of Vermont where I grew up. Eventually the trail climbed up and up as it made its way to the open ridge line. Few seemed to take in the overlook on the first pass, we were still bunched so it was hard to stop and smell the flowers. I did stop and pause on loop three on the cliff's edge for thirty seconds before heading off for the finish.

After the first top out along the ridge we wound down a rocky dirt road to the first water station (mile four & nine). From here we headed out into the real nonsense. Up and down and up and down through rocks that ranged from small and unstable to large and unstable. There didn't seem to be a piece of flat footing for four miles. I believe I thought this was interesting on the first lap. It got progressively more miserable on the second and third pass. Eventually the "Nam" business calmed down and we hit more rutty dirt road. We then moved onto a bizarre paved, steep downhill spell through a quite suburban neighborhood until we were eventually back at the start line.

Still feeling good at this point

I hit the full aid station in good shape. Reloaded my bottles, grabbed more gels and quickly took off for the next pass.

Loop two started strong. What I found, though, was that as I came upon each hill, each rocky descent, I had to suffer through the thought that I would have to do this one more time on much more tired legs.

It was a few miles into the second ten that something got out of whack. The sun came up higher in the sky and the temp began to climb. I found myself needing to drink more. I guess I let my salt levels go south because at around mile seventeen the cramping began.

Pain begins as a manageable force. It grows along the way. Eventually it becomes all encompassing but still something that you can push out and move through. I knew that it was either going to get much worse or I was going to find a way to let it dissipate.

The pain became comprehensive. I couldn't ignore it anymore as the fire worked from deep inside my hips down to the tips of my toes. My mind burned with it and I found myself emotional and foggy. You begin to question that damage that is being inflicted with each step, to the point where I found that I could barely take the steps. My legs were seizing up. I was at a very uncomfortable trot, a shuffle. I was deep into the death march.

I ran (walked) miles nineteen to the aid station contemplating calling it a day. I would be at my car. I could rehydrate, get things back in balance, sit and end the pain.

At the aid station I stood in front of the food not sure what to do next. Someone asked me if I was okay. I said no, not at all. Explained the problem. She forced some salt tablets down my throat. Put some fantastic salty chips in my hand. Told me to regroup until I was ready then get my ass back out there.

I sat next to my car for a few minutes going through a quit in my head. It just wasn't going to work. I couldn't comprehend it. I sent a quick text to my wife telling her that I was in a bad way but was going to walk the damn thing if I had to. I took off before I could get a response.

For loop three, I had the pleasure of knowing that everything I was doing would be the last time. It didn't mean that things were easier though. As my body balanced itself out, I found that I could trot some sections, hiking the steep stuff. I eventually came upon a fifty miler (I believe her name was Lara). When I told her that I was in a world of hurt, she laughed it off and told me that I looked great. That little bit of reassurance was what I need to keep the pace up to get me across the line. She and I ran off and on together for the last few miles. I mentally attached myself to her and felt like she was dragging me in.

10,000+ feet of elevation change. I got there in 7:47:11. A few minutes under my target.

I immediately started to feel better the moment I crossed the line on the pavement. I did not have to run anymore that day, and now I knew that I could do just about anything I put my mind to. I just wouldn't be doing much for the new few weeks.

Some of the gear that got me through:

Shirt - Proudly wore my Altra Ambassador shirt. After the race I had a few conversations about the shoes. I believe it came from me wearing the shirt because it definitely wasn't because of my stellar results (or form).
Shoes - Altra Lone Peak 1.5. Best mountain shoe on the market in my opinion. I thought my feet would be wrecked, but they didn't have a mark on them.
Socks - Injinji Run 2.0 Original Weight. Coupled with the roomy Altra's, these toe socks have saved me from blisters, damaged nails, and otherwise bloody feet.
Bottle - Ultimate Direction Fast Draw Plus. Packed it with Gu's and flattened pieces of sandwich.
Waste Pack - Some small Nathan pack I picked up that fit about five more Gu's.
Nutrition - About 15 Gu's, a few pieces of PB&J, some chips, and a few bottles of Fluid Performance drink.
Hydration - The Fluid and either too much or not enough water. Very rarely did I get the balance right.

Leon Lutz Tries to Answer a Difficult Question

I actually had a difficult time making it through this one, as I've seen the same eyes asking the same question. I couldn't have put it any better than this and I'm happy that Leon Lutz took the time to write it. And thanks to irunfar.com for publishing this. Seriously... to me, this is an astoundingly thoughtful piece.

As a father of two beautiful little boys (and husband to a pretty amazing Mom), I understand the torment in those eyes as you get ready to head out the door. It is hard to need something that appears outright to be so selfish, yet feels so important.

I one day hope that I can teach my boys why I run.

Can You Train For a 50k on 25 Miles a Week?

For months I've been working on a post about trying to manage the balance between work, family and finding the time (and will) to run long distances.

I'm now looking back on the unfinished post last touched weeks back. This is how it started...

"I am desperately in need of some inspiration in otherwise uninspiring times."

A bit odd to be quoting myself but looking back it now warrants inspection. The buildup to my recent (first) 50k race was not going well. Over many months, starting in December 2012, I had devised a thorough training plan that then seemed to systematically breakdown week after week. My running had gone from a study in joy to just another reason why I sometimes consider myself a failure.

Any job hunt or "best companies" list search turns up plenty of language around work/life balance. It's what most "young" people add into their "must haves" in determining their reason for selecting one company over another. It is expected that life should truly be a balance between the do what you love and and love what you do-job and all the rest of the world outside of that.

But what about work/life/training balance?

In the past six months, my family and I have gone through a significant move. Not far in distance, but further enough from my job to put me a little more out of pocket each day as I manage my new commute. While this move was underway, we welcomed a new little man into our lives. And while all of this was going on, I was looking to build up my mileage so that I could attempt my first pass at an ultra-distance trail race.

See, I was turning 40 this year and had planned to do something significant. I wanted to do something both as a reward and punishment for getting old. As my running mileage picked up last year I thought to myself that a running challenge would be just the thing to show me that turning 40 could be better than 30... or even 20.

I didn't want the watch or the new shiny, fast car.

Instead, I found a race and put it on the calendar. Life be damned, I was going to make it happen. The problem was that good parts of life kept getting in the way of me developing and building to the point where I could have the confidence to complete this thing. Every week I would have my plan written out and over and over runs would be a little shy of the prescribed distance. Long weekend runs wouldn't pan out. My family life and obligations would take precedence (sometimes happily, sometimes not) over all other things.

I wasn't upset that these things were getting in the way (usually). I was terrified that I was slowly getting steps closer to failure. Each missed check-mark in the plan would send me into a bit of a mental tailspin. I watched Unbreakable. I read blogs and articles on running long. I couldn't get away from the fact that I was signed up for the Wildcat Ridge Romp 50k, a fairly challenging course made up of three 10.7 mile loops through some rocky, rooty New Jersey wilderness. August 10th loomed on the calendar.

My mileage hovered around 25 to 35 miles a week. It just didn't feel long enough to pull it off. As I eased into my "taper", I told myself that I was going to go out and give it a shot. I believed I had the toughness and fortitude to get through the pain of it, and I've always been a proficient and quick hiker. At worst, I would walk it in. I would have 12 hours to go roughly 32 miles. Seemed possible if I could focus on running your own race. So I made a plan to write RYOR on my arm and venture off into the woods.

This was not going to be a race but a run... or possibly a walk. I was going to finish.

Wildcat Ridge Romp 50k race report coming soon...

Where Have I Been...

I've been absolutely negligent with my blogging lately so it's time for some output over the long running weekend. I have two race reports, 3 or 4 reviews of some excellent Altra shoes to share, and maybe a few other things about how difficult it can be to train hard when other, more important things get in the way. I have my first 50k in a few weeks and I do not believe that I have trained enough.

Enough of the nonsense. Time to get on the trails.

Road Marathon vs. Trail Ultra: Which Is Harder?

Road Marathon vs. Trail Ultra: Which Is Harder?

Interesting post from Sarah Lavender Smith at The Runner's Trip. I always enjoy her thoughts on running and this one is a look at the challenges that come with two very different types of racing. Very different in format and form, but both difficult none the less.

Makes me think of the importance of specificity training.

I love running in the woods, but because my next "A" race is on the road, I've been pushing myself up and down the streets. I know that the pounding of pavement is what I need to be able to jump my next hurdle.

Then on to a 50k trail race... and into the woods.

Footfeathers: Briefly on What it Means to Suffer

Fairly recent post from Footfeathers Racing.

This perfectly captures my recent thinking. If it didn't hurt I don't think I would be interested. After the hurt, I feel I can deal with anything.

"Footfeathers: Briefly on What it Means to Suffer: I've always been of the mindset that suffering in training makes racing pleasant.  I don't mean the common knowledge that training ..."

Why I Run, Possibly

I spend a great deal of time trying to understand why it is I obsess about running. Why does it take up so much of my thoughts after the running is done?

For my family, I would like to live longer, but I know that I do not run for health. I could give a shit about that unless it is working toward the end goal of being able to run faster or go further.

I don't run to lose weight. That became an easy, natural by-product of the miles. The extra pounds had to come off. Now I do everything I can to keep enough calories coming in to push the growling stomach away.

Beauty in a snowstorm

Two other possible reasons come to mind. Suffering and the commune with the natural world.

Second one first. I like nothing more than listening to my own breath and footsteps in an otherwise quiet environment. I can't find that indoors, and I love the woods, the dark streets. I am at peace there.

This is why I don't do headphones, why I do not run with friends. Not because I don't like music or conversation when I move, but because everything is so loud all the time. Home, commute, work. It is nice to hear very little, to give myself the opportunity to think to the point of void. When it all just wipes away.

Then there is the suffering. Anyone who has known me over the last twenty years knows that I have always been a fan of self-inflicted melancholia. When I was younger I sought out creative and (occasionally) destructive ways to suffer through life. I eventually smartened up, but never lost the need to feel torment. Running into pain filled the gap. As long as there is a further distance or harder route to attempt, I know that I will never be without my beloved misery.

I am going to spend some time over the next few months probing these thoughts further.

Winter Running

Whether running in extreme winter (or extreme heat in my opinion), the toughness that comes from running through these conditions is undeniable. This is a great, short article from Scott Jurek on the positives that come from continuing to push yourself when winter comes.

Personally, I find it's harder to get out there but ends up being a much more rewarding run when I know I've suffered a bit in the process. I like getting out in the cold. You may even hear me brag about it now and then.

The Long Year

I'm working on a post with the same title over at I Did Get Fun. My other blog (one in a growing list of distraction blogs) features my details on raising a very active, inquisitive, sometimes challenging toddler. Not too different from managing my running life.

The long year. It captures all aspects of my life over the last 12 months. Of course I'm aware that the year can be neither longer nor shorter than what the year is. It just is the length of time that it is. On the other hand, the way it feels is the way it was perceived, and it felt long.

I started running again this year. It was hard at first. Then it was fun and exciting. Then I discovered the overuse injury. I recovered, then re-injured myself. Now, as I get back to full health, I spend a great part of every day thinking about and mentally planning my next outing. 

Because of my early-rising little guy (see blog link above), I have found that I have to get out long before the sun crests the skyline if I want to get some time on my feet. With each day it gets colder and darker, so the process becomes more drawn out; 

• Alarm rings - I fumble with the watch, then stare at the ceiling wondering why I do this. I flash through excuses and reasons to get just a little more sleep before he wakes
• Run starts - I stagger my way through dressing and shoe tying. I hit the cold air and take off. The first 10 minutes are spent questioning why I am doing this
• Middle section of the run - My mind goes quiet and I forget what I was thinking. Most likely the only "silence" I will experience all day
• The close - Run my ass off to finish things so I can get inside. The runners high is a real thing. Sometimes I feel that I could put my hand through a brick wall
• Rest of the day - Thinking about doing it again

It's the same every time. So, I cannot imagine that 2013 will be any different. In place of the standard resolution setting that comes with the close of each year, this time I am going to focus on a few goals. I have another long, most likely harder year in store for me (and my family). I won't need to stop doing things. I will need to start being more efficient with what I choose to do.

A move is in the books. I am looking forward to our first house in a new town. A trail head sits just a half-mile down the road. But, I am well aware that there will be a significant amount of work ahead of me. This will mean less free time and more lawn mowing.

On the subject of free-time, we have a new one on the way. Raising a little guy has been the hardest, most fulfilling thing we have done together. My wife and I just barely survived our first little bad sleeper. Let's hope that number 2 likes naps.

And in this mix, I want to throw some new running projects. New races and endurance runs to challenge what I think I can handle (now on even less sleep). 

I want to run for LBI, our summer community devastated by Storm Sandy. I want to set a PR or two, and I want to tackle the longer version of Mountain Madness. Going into the race this last September, I never believed I could move for that long over that type of terrain. Now that I know that I can, I want to do it again, and do it over 50 kilometers. 

I want to bring my son into all of this and teach him the trails, get him to love being out in the woods as much as I do. 

I want to find happiness in my job. I will need to find more time, or better use of it, so that I can be there for family and friends.

I want to keep demanding more of myself... keep pushing my limits just out of reach. Hopefully,  I won't find them in 2013.

When I'm Older

Interesting new addition from Kilian Jornet.

A weirdly sublime look at a great old runner who can still move like a kid. Inspiring... yet it shows me I have not gone to that place yet. Still too cramped-up with injury.

Mountain Madness (Part 1)

Suffering through Mountain Madness

It has been well over a month since the race, so it's time I finally get this post completed. Now, post-Sandy, I'm writing this from a hallway floor while my computer gets a full charge.

Sadly, since the race, I have not had much time running due to some severe strain in my left leg that is leaving me with significant ITB pain. I tried to take a light jog around the neighborhood to assess the storm damage, but ended up limping home after a mile. Funny, because it was the same thing in the right leg that made me doubt if I could finish the race in the first place.

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Since my mid-summer ITB injury with my varied time-outs and re-starts, I contemplated this race as a "test". As my leg healed through the summer and early fall, I tried to build up the base miles, trying to pick up the pace. But I still had this nagging, profound level of doubt about this run. It would be the longest, hardest trek through the woods that I had completed since a dehydrated, nearly calamitous march down a long stretch of the Long Trail 20 years ago.

Two weeks before Mountain Madness (the 25k one), I decided that I would live and die by the work I had already put in. I determined that there was nothing left I could do to make myself more physically ready. I tapered and got some sleep. I didn't wake up at 4:30 am to run alone in the dark. I slept a little more and spent the mornings with my son.

The night before the race, I worked obsessively with my gear, worried that my toes would be torn to shreds, that I would not have enough water if I had to walk some long stretches, and that I wouldn't be prepared to get the calories I would need to keep the wheels from falling off.

By morning I was excited to get it started so that I could see how it played out. The weather was cool and damp. It had rained the day before so I figured it would be wet and slippery.

I had not been to the park before so was surprised to see how hilly it was. Being from northern Vermont, I assume everything below Massachusetts is flatland. So, I still find myself shocked at some of the steep terrain that New Jersey can throw out.

I nervously awaited the start by walking from my car to the camp house on the edge of a small lake. I checked in and made one last run to the car to deposit my outer layers.

After a quick review from the RD, we lined up on the grass and headed on our way. I am not sure why I thought I could do this race.

Next post - a report of my misery.

Running Through It at South Mountain

By Steve Peterson

Time off from running, even if it is enforced, causes me to stir. When my mind wanders from home life or work, I naturally go to running. Will I feel okay the next time? Will I recover eventually and get back to the carefree runs I discovered around the second month of sticking to it? In injury (and other ailments) one starts to think that you will never be healthy again.

Riding NJ Transit

Having found myself with a day with no parental duties, I decided to venture out to a new bit of land to do some random running around in the woods. Regardless of how I felt a few minutes in, I knew that once I got a mile into the trail, there was no stopping until I was done. Sort of an ass-backwards approach to testing how well my knee would react, but I felt cooped up and crazy.

I was without car, so I ventured out to Milburn on New Jersey Transit. The trail head sat right across the street from the train station.

What I noticed as I walked up the road to the various trails branching out from the reservation parking lot was how hot and muggy it was. The trip started later than I had originally planned and took longer than I thought to get there, so now I was heading out in the middle of the day. I had 40oz. of water, and what looked like no chance to buy more when I got back to the station.

Trail Head

I had no map with me and was only slightly familiar with the trails. I had researched online sites and blogs and found some discussion around the intermittent trail flashes and rocky terrain. I picked a lane and headed up a sloping, rocky trail. By rocky, I mean crushed, large chunks of rock, the type found on railroad tracks. I climbed up and around the largest slope in the forest. When I reached what seemed to be the top, I found a single track tearing down the other side.

After a quick two miles, I re-entered the parking lot. Not what I was expecting.

 I knew I should have headed out on the Rahway Trail that was marked just before the lot. This was a single, mostly dirt track heading into the dark woods. I decided to head down the trail and see where it would take me.

The rough trail turned through the woods, running along small streams and reservoirs. Every hundred feet or so, I would have to look up quickly to scan the trees in the distance looking for white flashes. Occasionally, I lost sight of them and would have to wander through the pine needles to look for the trail. As I got weaker in and more depleted in the heat, scanning became a dangerous game. Every so often, I'd catch a hard toe on some root or rock and nearly stumble into the water below me. In the end, no twisted ankles, but I did get a blackened toenail out of the deal.

Eventually, I found myself hitting the end of the trail (as far I was willing to go). I came out of thick, low-lying bushes and found myself up against a highway guardrail. I guessed that I would have had to cross the highway and find the trail on the other side. Knowing that I was about two miles from the lot,and that I would have to stumble my way blindly through the woods, I backtracked. When I got back to the trail head I was spent. The trails had been a peaceful respite from the city, and it was a pleasure to get out for long periods of time away from anyone. It was quiet out there in the middle of the burbs.


An hour of waiting and two trains and I was home.

The thing I love about running is that every time I venture out, it could be the hardest, most excruciating thing I've encountered, but I get through it. From the first full mile that I ran without walking, to longer distances, cold, dark mornings, each time I get to ask myself "idiot, why not stop?" And each time, I keep going.

A fully depleted, lighter, weaker me