Patagonia Marathon

From Gear Junkie, and very brief race report on the recent Patagonia Marathon. After seeing some of the photos, I have to say that this is now on my "want to run" list.

I will get there.

Slow

I have a busy schedule.

So most of my running happens well before the sun comes up. Some days, I'm waking around 4:30 to get myself dressed and ready in the dark. I sit on the curb under the street light waiting for the GPS to kick-in. Then I'm off around Jersey City. Sometimes, when I'm feeling lazy, I push the sleep a little further which allows me to run along the waterfront as the sun rises over Manhattan. It is a complete reversal of the late-night person I used to be, but it is worth the fatigue and occasional exhaustion to see what I see.

I have a busy home life, and a work life that I do my best to manage in a reasonable amount of hours per week. My 3 year old deserves all that I can devote to him.

Because of this, I know that I will never have the time to run the distance that I would like. So, I have to learn to run further in the time that I have.

The problem is that I would be considered slow. I have been since I was young.

When my little league team would run drills, our coach would have us run the bases. He used to scream out at me as I rounded second that he could time me with a calendar. I was forever running through quicksand.

When I played soccer (I believe that I was pretty good), I was a "smart" defensive player... never a fast one. I was better at reading a play and being in the right place at the right time. This kept me from having to sprint with the little racy forwards that could easily pull away from me.

Yesterday, I ran my first 6+ mile run with a time under 8 minutes per mile. I still don't believe the watch, but I know the distance I ran and the time in which I ran it. Maybe things are changing for me. As I round the corner to 40 years, I'm finally finding a pace I never could before. Funny that my 39 year old self could outrun my 14 year old self in both distance and pace.

Keeping to Plan

I like a plan. I scope out my running week in terms of miles. Now that I am recovering from a summer of knee pain, I am trying to add small amounts of mile increases on some of my slow runs.

I learned my lesson back in May, when my excitement with my new found love of running had me pushing up my mileage too quickly. Eventually, I stressed out my system and it all fell apart.

10% increases now. Slow build. Listen to the body for sighs of fatigue.

One thing I have trouble accounting for is an ornery toddler who is not too fond of sleeping. Pre-dawn running on 2 to 3 hours of sleep is tough.. more like the act of getting out of bed and starting the process in the dark.

So, I'm off plan today and it will be picking at me all day.

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

The Long Trail

Nikki Kimball Attempts Complete Vermont 273 Mile Long Trail Record

I love this trail and climbed much of the northern part when I was young. Good luck to her.

The Joy of Form, The Form of Joy

Happiness is Form

I enjoy watching my three year old run aimlessly, a big grin across his beautiful face.

It could take years trying to learn his form, his effortless movement, his pure joy in running. I will spend a lifetime trying to emulate what I hope he will never forget.

The Mountain Wilderness Factor...Do I have it?

By Steve Peterson

From the irunfar.com site, just read an article on The Mountain Wilderness Factor by ultra runner Geof Roes.

Inspirational piece...could be a motivator for me. I have recently had a growing urge to run an ultra distance race in the near future, and seeing that I could be/am considered slow as hell on the road, this gives me hope that I do not have to get used to back of the pack.

Having grown up in a remote corner of the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, I'm probably more comfortable in the woods than I am on the streets of the city (where I have lived for the last 15 years). Maybe it would help...we'll see.