Weeks Three and Four: Into Summer Rest

Mon 6/11 2 miles
Tue 6/12 2 miles

Wed 6/13 2 miles in Huntington, West Virginia, my home town, at the beautiful Ritter Park.

Thu 6/14  After the strangest evening of my life, any thought of running Highlands Sky disappeared. EO's diagnosis was grim: severe brain damage from lack of oxygen. He was unresponsive, breathing on a respirator, but my brother John, my mother, Christy and I hung out with him all day, joined by my sister in the late afternoon. We talked, and laughed, and cried, and we included him in all of it. We all became closer.

Hospital Rock Trail February 2011
It's covered in briars in the summer.

Sun 6/18  10 ½ miles in Huntington. A really nice run with my big brother through some of our old spots. Kevin told me he had done this run starting in 1977 when he ran 10 miles a day, same loop, no idea what he was doing. We ran the two and a half miles of crushed stone trail to the west end, then through Harvey Town and across Fifth Street to the back access to the Huntington Art Museum.  The climb to the museum—Mount Futhermucker, we fondly call it—is a brute. Added in a little 1930s neighborhood and a tour of the park. Nice to see two old men go at it.

Christy and I drove home to Spartanburg to pick up L and Q, and their cousin at camp, to come back to Huntington for the funeral. 

Total  16 ½ miles in four runs

Sat 6/23  9 ½ miles at Jones Gap. This run should be counted in time—2:27. What a brute of a run. Jones Gap never fails to remind me how tough it is. About 2000 feet of climbing in the first three or four miles, then brutal and difficult downhill. Two waterfalls and some great views later, I ran back to the car by the road.

Falls Creek Falls Trail to Hospital Rock Trail. Returned by Jones Gap Road.

Sun 6/24  5 miles at Croft. First hot-hot-hot run. Bristol and I stopped in the creek twice for some sitting.

from Dairy Ridge: New Edition to cut-off over to Palmetto

Total 14 ½ miles in 2 runs

One of my first concessions to age was taking a couple of months every year to run with little focus. It started in my late thirties when I lived in the mountains in southern California. The winter snow limited trail access near my house, so I turned back mileage and intensity until things started to melt in early March.  Teacher vacation made summers training camps, with lots of outings and races.  I did that for so many years that when I stopped teaching six years ago, the habit stuck with me.

Last summer I really paid for it. The summers here in South Carolina are very hot and humid. Training in the heat with a focus on a race in late July, combined with antibiotics because of a tick bite, led to a DNF, only my third in 28 years.  Several years ago my brother told me he spent the Tennessee summers running a couple of week day runs of five or so miles, and a long run of 15-17 miles in the mountains every week. He said he was fresher than all his friends who trained hard through the summer, and came back stronger in the fall.

So there I am, in rest mode. I’ll still run far if I feel like it, and I have a couple of longer runs planned. I’ll run four or five or six or seven days a week, probably 25-40 miles a week. I’ll start back in September, and may run a 50k in October. I’d like to run faster than last year at the Camp Croft Half-Marathon in November. I’m still holding off planning for Pine Mountain in December.

Week Two: Tapering for Highlands Sky

Mon 6/4 Off

Tue 6/5  Off. First time all year I have taken three days off in a row. I’ll also say that these were three smart days off. My toe has been sore, and swollen. I’ve been icing and resting.

Wed 6/6  5 miles on Cottonwood

Thu 6/7 3 miles

Fri 6/8  7 miles at Croft. I felt pretty crappy until I realized that it wasn’t getting worse or better. Then I felt fine.

from Dairy Ridge: New Edition to Palmetto

Sat 6/9 Off. I realized that running today would make no positive difference, and could harm my toe.

Sun 6/10  13 miles at Croft. A great run with 5 or so miles of new trail that we’ve been meaning to get to. Carroll out for the first time in a while, and for the first time in even longer, Gordon, Carroll, Seth and I all ran together. Felt great passing easy miles.

from the riding ring: Foster Mill to the boy scout hut to the lake trail to New Edition out to the road and over to Garry Perry back to the riding ring

I’m nervous about next week’s run. Forty miles is one thing, 9 1/2 hours is another. I haven’t had the strong lead up I did to Terrapin. I’ll take it as it comes, and focus on drinking and eating enough during the race.

Total  28 miles in four runs

Seems appropriate somehow...

Week One: Week ending June 3

Mon 5/28  3 miles

Tue 5/29  Not a lick of time as I prepared to go out of town for work.

Wed 5/30 5 miles in Chapel Hill, NC. In town for a conference, staying on the UNC campus. Just down the street from the hotel is a greenway built along the sewer right-of-way, and a pile of attendant trails that loop around in the woods.

Thu 5/31  AM 2 1/2 miles. A nice little loop through Carrboro with some folks at the conference.

PM  4 1/2 miles on the greenway trails.  It’s been a long time since I ran twice in a day. I knew the early run would be short, and I thought it would be a good way to get to see more of Chapel Hill. 


May totals: 172 1/2 miles in 25 runs
Year to date: 853 1/2 miles in 131 runs

Fri 6/1  2 1/2 miles around the UNC campus with my buddy Tim, who’s doing an Ironman in Coeur d’Helene, Idaho in a couple of weeks. 

Sat 6/2  14 miles at Croft with Gordon.  Still working on the general nutrition. Gordon’s recommendation: more whole grains, like oatmeal, for breakfast. In my late-run fatigue, I stubbed my toe pretty hard on a rock and fell. My toe is very sore, which worries me. I have to remember that I won’t add any fitness in the next couple of weeks anyway. 

from Dairy Ridge: Palmetto to TC’s to the Lake Trail to New Edition

Sun 6/3  I had hoped to run another two+ hours today, but my toe is tender, especially when I push off and when I turn. I don’t want to aggravate it, and am a little worried, to tell the truth. I’ve been icing it all day, and figure I’ll have an easy  two weeks leading to the race. I’m focusing on eating well, and enough. 

Total: 31 1/2 miles in 6 runs


This is also the end of the first of fifty weeks leading to the Ice Age 50 next May 11. 

Week ending May 27: Assault on Mt. Pisgah

Mon 5/21 3 miles

Tue 5/22  3 miles. Still pretty tired after the long weekend.

Wed 5/23 Off. Took heed from last week’s one-mile day when I shouldn’t have run.

Thu 5/24  8 1/2 miles at Croft. I haven’t been on the Chapters for a while.

from Dairy Ridge: Palmetto to Chapters to Palmetto

Fri 5/25 4 1/2 miles on Cottonwood. Felt very good: made myself go easy.

Sat 5/26  26 miles North Mills River Recreation Area to Mount Pisgah and back: Big Creek Trail, Laurel Mountain Trail

Definitely a highlight run of the year. I met up with a group of western North Carolina trail runners who put on a pile of self-supported group runs through the year. Seth and I have internet-stalked them for a while, and I finally got up the nerve to go run with them. I'll thank Adam fopr organizing this one, and the rest of the crowd here for putting on these great runs, and for promoting trail running in beautiful places.

This run (“an almost perfect loop of about 26 miles”) started at the North Mills River Recreation Area, which was the start of the overnight relay that I blame for this long-distance habit. I flitted about through the crowd, finding my place as we climbed slightly along a fire road. To tell you the truth, I don’t remember much from that first ten minutes or so, other than meeting people. At some point I found myself pulling away from the guy I was running with, but fairly far behind the folks right in front of me. I decided I’d speed up to catch them--did I mention I had no map and no idea where we were going?

I ran with Stan, Lindsey and Hayley for quite a while. The trail ran along a creek (Big Creek, I’m guessing, since that was the name of the trail), crossing it several times, just stunning deep valley running. All that flat running--probably 5 miles or more--meant the climbing would come pretty sharply. But we were rolling right along there, chatting and easy in the deep woods. We talked about jobs (Hayley’s a lawyer, Lindsey teaches middle school; why didn’t I find out what Stan does?) and running and I don’t know what all.

And then it happened. Right at a little cleared spot by the creek, the trail turned steeply uphill. We stopped and ate. “Fuel now,” Lindsey said. I did. Hayley turned back here, and for the most part, Lindsey took off up the climb. She stayed in sight most of the way, but she was on a mission and tearing it up. Stan and I separated some, and the climbing just kept me in that in-my-head place, feeling good and running (imitating the running motion) when I could. 

I knew what the loop was in theory, but I was still eased by having Stan, who had run the course before (and was planning to run another long run in the mountains with these guys the following week--strong runner, in other words) right behind me. We got to Blue Ridge Parkway, the top of the longest climb, in a little over two hours. We ran along the Parkway to the Mount Pisgah rest area where Terry had a fully stocked aid station. I had brought peanut butter and nutella sandwiches, but didn’t want to eat any at all. Lindsey had an orange, and shared another with me. I ate half, and left half with Terry for someone else. But that orange was spectacular, cold and wet. I should have eaten the whole thing. 

At the top of the long climb to the Blue Ridge Parkway

From there the course climbs to the peak of Mt. Pisgah, and you turn around and come back down. The trail was pretty crowded--a good thing as folks renew themselves by coming in contact with nature. Made for a little less free running. And the trail was nice and flat for a good piece, letting me unwind my legs a little. The steep pitch to the peak ended the climbing for the day. Stan and his girlfriend/wife, who met us at the parking area (she’s running 29 miles next weekend, and rested this day), were at the observation deck when I got there. All the way up I saw other runners coming down; we all exchanged enthusiastic greetings. I passed Lindsey on her way back down from the peak; “Great orange, huh?” she said.

The drop back down to North Mills River was more gradual than the climb, basically one trail from the parking area traversing steep hillsides, at times in cool, narrow slots. When I say cool, I mean chilly. The day turned very hot, and although I didn’t overheat, I didn’t drink enough water. I started to crave some flavor in my water, actually, and tried a gel in one. Chocolate, at least, did not taste good. 

Buttery.

But these little naturally air-conditioned sections were relieving, and the running easy and downhill. About 2 miles from the end of the trail, and about 5 miles from the end of the run, my stomach really got upset. I felt crampy, and tried to soothe it with food. I think I was depleted. I’d taken two SCaps, which always leave my jaw a little tight, and starting eating a Shot Block every ten minutes or so. 

Yeah, I was clobbered. Sean had caught and passed us earlier, and Stan had disappeared around the switchbacks and ridge lines. I just put it on cruise, walking and running--mostly my decision when--to the finish. It took me a half hour or so to feel like being social, including a brief hurl session about 15 minutes after I finished. Thanks to Dave for hanging with me then. He was leaving, but stayed until I was conversational again. 

I feel certain the hurl-fest resulted from dehydration. I was drenched early in the run, and still only finished one bottle on the way up. I finished three total, I think--about 60 ounces, probably. My waist pack ended up rubbing me a little raw at the belt-line, too. I’ll have to figure out a better system for such long runs. Highlands Sky will be well supported, so I think I’ll be okay with my one bottle. I may invest in a vest, too, which seems to be least restrictive of the pack-type hydration systems.

I felt great about the run, though. As far as I can figure, the trail climbs 3500’ from the camping area to the peak of Mount Pisgah. I’m sure that steep climb was well over 2000’ in about two or three miles. I don’t get that opportunity very often, and my quads know it. Stan said he ran 5 hours 26 minutes last year; I ran 5:14, and Stan was well under that.

I met a bunch of cool and interesting people, some real studs of the ultra-world, and was reminded again of the great camaraderie of trail runners.

Sun 5/27  Didn’t see why I should run, and spent a great day with my Gorgeous.

Total: 45 miles in 5 runs

Fortnight ending May 20

Mon 5/7 5 miles on Cottonwood

Tue 5/8   0 miles: A visit with my Gorgeous to Urgent Care took precedence.

Wed 5/9 6.5 miles around the neighborhood.

Thu 5/10 8.5 miles at Croft.

from Dairy Ridge: Palmetto to Lake Johnson Loop to Palmetto

Fri 5/11 A huge day with various work commitments, kid-driving, and getting on the road for a visit with EO and Betty. This one was special, for reasons I’ll go into in a future post. Just Q and I were able to go, so it was a man’s weekend. That much time with Q would be special no matter what. 

Sat 5/12 Running? What’s that? Showing Q around my home town, seeing my niece dance in her recital, and just generally hanging with EO and Betty centered the whole day.

EO is predictably slow, and he is driven door to door most of the time. But he’s sharp as usual in many ways. I’m glad to have seen him in person rather than talk to him on the phone. 

Sun 5/13 15 miles on the Kanawha Trace Trail. Planned through the magic of facebook, I met Gregg at the finish line of a race I dropped out of last summer. The Boy Scouts manage and maintain the Kanawha Trace Trail, and have now for 50 years. Challenged by a farmer who let them camp on her property to build trails where they didn’t have any, the Trace runs through private property and Boy Scout property and connects by a few roads, both dirt and hard pike.

It poured rain, and we hardly noticed. We talked, and ran, and hiked, and slid through the mud, and turned around a few times when we missed the trail. All these things make a great run.

Total 35 miles in 4 runs

Mon 5/14  4 miles 

Tue  5/15  6 miles around the neighborhoods. 

Wed 5/16  3 miles

Thu 5/17  8 1/2 miles at Croft. Nice and easy, with some good moments of just letting my legs turn over.

from Dairy Ridge: Palmetto to Lake Johnson Loop to Palmetto

Fri 5/18  1 mile. Youch. Shouldn’t have run at all. 

Sat 5/19  10 miles at Croft with Joe Parker. Running with Joe is always fun. He’s directing another race at Croft, this one a marathon. We ran the second half-ish nice and easy and chatting.

from the riding ring: Palmetto across Fairforest Creek, right on Southside Loop through parking lot down Centerline to Lizard to Southside to Palmetto

Sun 5/20  19 miles at Croft. The best part about this run was my motivation level. I felt a little fatigue from Saturday, just what I was looking for, but I pushed reasonably hard throughout. 

Need I add that Bristol crushed these two runs, too?

from the riding ring: Lake Johnson Connector to Foster Mill to Lake Trail to that little lake trail to TC’s to Palmetto to New Edition to Lake Trail all the way to the hut to Foster Mill to Lake Johnson Connector

Total  51 1/2 miles in 7 runs

Very good week. The back-to-back days both felt easy and restrained; I’m pretty confident about Highlands Sky--confident about finishing, that is--especially knowing I have one more 25+ mile run planned with some folks in North Carolina. 

Week ending April 22, with the Alabama Shakes

Mon 4/16  4 miles on Cottonwood

Tue 4/17  5 miles on Cottonwood

Wed 4/18  12 miles at Croft. Great run in the pouring rain. So yesterday it was 84 degrees and sunny; I figured it was good heat training, and that I’d pay attention to that this spring anticipating heat at Highlands Sky. Today it was 54 and raining. So much for heat training.

from Dairy Ridge: Palmetto to TC’s to the little lake trail to Lake Johnson Loop to Palmetto

Thu 4/19 2 miles wobbling. After a full day, observing Q’s ballet class, meeting a friend for a beer (or two), I ran around the neighborhood.

Fri 4/20  4 miles on Cottonwood. Mountain laurel and wild roses blooming, cotton from the cottonwoods blowing.

Sat 4/21 3 miles

Sun 4/22  20 miles at Croft. One of the best runs I’ve ever had. Gordon and I set off in the chill and rain, and hit almost all the hilliest trails. I felt easy and strong the whole run. Bristol seemed to be feeling about the same. We ran a few extra steps to see if we could catch some of the mountain bike race going on at Southside. 

from the Riding Ring: Foster Mill to Boy Scout Hut and Lake to New Edition to Palmetto to TC’s to the little lake trail to the Lake back to the Boy Scout Hut and Foster Mill.

Total  50 miles in seven runs (101-11)

"I travelled a long way

And it took a long time

But I found you, I finally found you."

Week ending April 15

Mon 4/9  8 1/2 miles at Croft. Good relaxed, loping pace.

from Dairy Ridge: Palmetto to Lake Johnson Loop all the way around and back to Palmetto.

Tue 4/10  3 miles  Busy day.

Wed 4/11  5 miles at Cottonwood

Thu 4/12  5 miles at Cottonwood. I thought I might go farther, but felt tired. A little niggling pain in my lower back, my right ankle, my left IT band: Get thee to a chiropractor!

Fri 4/13  4 miles, including 2 miles barefoot.

Sat 4/14  12 miles at Croft. Again, I thought I would go over 20 today, but just didn’t feel like I could muster up the mental strength to do so. Since I’m still just 3 weeks from Terrapin, I feel like I can still look at recovery. I haven’t raced much in the past few years, so I don’t want to press the comeback from a good, hard race. I am focusing on Highlands Sky, and need to be mentally and physically prepared. 

That said, and knowing I would do two shorter back-to-back runs this weekend, I went after it. I felt very easy at 7:30 pace for the entire run, even with some slow climbs. 

at Southside: Southside Loop all the way around, including High and Dry and Rock Creek.

Sun 4/15 9 1/2 miles at Croft. I set off to explore a new trail, but a tired back changed that plan. I did end up running longer than I thought I would.

from Dairy Ridge: New Edition to Lake Johnson Connector to Lake Johnson Loop all the way around to Hensington and Palmetto

Total  47 miles in seven runs  (94-11: In order to start my year on January 1, I have added in the week before I started my first streak to my count of on and off days.)

Old shoes, new shoes: the old ones
have about 530 miles on them.

In the interest of keeping track of the miles on my shoes, I will record here that I bought a new pair of shoes after Terrapin, and have been wearing them since Wednesday, March 28. 

The shoe buy was a good lesson, too: I’ve worn the Montrail Rogue Racers for a year now (3 pairs). After last year’s Terrapin, I had some foot problems, and I blamed them on the Rogue Racers’ lightness. I bought a pair of Brooks Cascadias, a heavier and more cushioned shoe. My foot problems continued until one day I wore an old pair of Rogue Racers to work. My feet felt great, so I returned to them. 

Later I felt like my calf problems were related to the Rogue Racers, and bought a pair of Mountain Masochists. I did not like either the Cascadias or the Mountain Masochists. They were both too stiff, too heavy and clunky for me. I stuck with the Rogue Racers, but was excited about the coming Montrail Bajadas, which were only slightly heavier than the Rogue Racers. I thought I would buy them, but C reminded me of something I have held to all through my running: when I find a pair of shoes I like, I stick with them. As usual, C is brilliant.  

Week ending February 26

Mon 2/20  4 miles easy on Cottonwood

Tue 2/21  6 1/2 miles around the neighborhood. I ran easy today knowing I would have more time tomorrow to go down to Croft and run some trails.

The Terrapin Mountain
overlook:
well worth the diversion.
Credit: Frank Rodriguez via Facebook

Wed 2/22  8 1/2 miles at Croft. The Chapters is a one of my favorite trails, a two and a half mile section made up of a series of steep climbs and descents into and out of the floodplain of a small feeder creek. It’s the descents I think made a difference in last year’s Terrapin 50K, especially the rocky, sometimes very steep drop from the peak of Terrapin Mountain, about mile 21, down to a forest road and the last aid station at mile 25 or so. That I could keep my feet moving quickly meant I pulled away from a guy I had run the last seven or eight miles with. 

On this run I practiced picking a line through the roots and twists and rocks of the four fast descents, the longest about 2/3 of a mile. This is a tough run, and my legs felt slow from Tuesday and a day at work. I focused on the last miles of the race, pushing a pretty fair pace with tired legs.

from Dairy Ridge: Palmetto Trail to the Chapters, back to the Palmetto, and out.

Thu 2/23  3 miles. I squeezed this one in before a public meeting I was leading. As usual, the running calms me. I wore short-shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt in 78 degree weather.

Fri 2/24  4 miles, including 2 miles barefoot

Sat 2/25  16 miles at Croft. About the hilliest route you can take--lots of very steep climbs, several sustained climbs, almost no flat sections. Again, I tried to focus on what my friend Ted always called “quick feet” on the descents. I started faster than normal because I met a guy in the parking lot who ended up running the first half with me. The New Balance MTSomethings and the “Pb” sticker were dead give-aways. He’s in town as an intern at the hospital; it was good to have some company.

My quads were pretty shot by the end, and I did practice walking because Ian Sharman told me to. But I felt good that I was still running hard downhill, especially in the more technical parts, and at the end.

from Dairy Ridge: New Edition to the Lake Trail to that little lake trail to TC’s to the Chapters to the Palmetto and out.

  

Sun 2/26  5 miles at Southside. Took every shortcut I could. My legs are very tired from yesterday, which means it was a harder workout than I thought. 

Total: 47 miles in seven runs

I feel good about the steady mileage, high for me. I’ll take this next week a little easier, then one last long run two weeks out before something of a taper for Terrapin. I know that when I’m running it I’ll know how I’ll compare to last year, but I’m trying not to think about time. 

As usual, I think a lot of things about my fitness right now. I have maintained reasonably high mileage without being overzealous and getting injured. I’ve been consistent, and feel strong even when I’m tired. With some rest, especially the week of the race, and the same patience I had in the race last year, I could run faster than I ran. But last year I had no idea what my time would be; this year I have a target time, good splits, and knowledge of the course. I can’t let those advantages become burdens.

I look forward to running a course for the second time, I look forward to a well organized event, with great aid stations, and a well marked course. Race director Clark Zeeland has tucked in some fun bits, too, with the  orienteering punch tools at a few key locations, especially making you go out to the rocky nub of a look out on Terrapin Mountain and sliding through Fat Man’s Misery, which woke me up in a sweat a few weeks before the race. Clark assured me by e-mail that the passage had never stopped anyone before, and that there was an alternate route. I slid through easily, and really like the parts of the course that make you experience the best of mountain running. 

Not least, I look forward to hanging out with legendary ultra-runner and character David Horton.  The link goes to a photo of my finish last year, shaking hands with Horton. He called every finisher’s name over the PA, razzed most of them in some way, congratulated everyone. He is a great asset to ultra-running. 

The best thing, though, is that C will be able to go with me, and we’re making a weekend of it. Camping the first night will be at the start/finish line, which I really  liked best after the race, when I crashed for a half-hour or so after I finished. C has been to one other race, and loved working an aid station. She’ll either work, or wander in the mountains and bump into us. Getting to see her through the race will be a real boost.  We’ll stay somewhere a little more settled on Saturday night after the race.

Crossing Over Water

I cross over the wetlands on the Cottonwood Trail almost every time I run there. In this post from the proverbial archives, I try to understand why.

Most everyone knows I love the Cottonwood Trail, a small trail system that winds through the flood plain of the Lawson’s Fork Creek with a trailhead less than a mile from my house. I have often blamed the trail and its owner the Spartanburg Area Conservancy (SPACE) for my moving to Spartanburg because I ran on it during a weekend visit to town to interview for a job.  Now nine years later I have run on the trail hundreds of times in all weather and every season, in deep untracked snow, sloppy mud, and dry dust. Right now wild roses bloom, and the creek flows deep. I have enjoyed seeing the system expand. I also now serve on the SPACE board, in part because of my commitment to the trail.

But one part of the trail system is one of my favorite third places—the wetlands area, now crossed by a boardwalk that allows visitors to rest in the middle of one of the most interesting environments in Spartanburg. I’ve seen owls, deer, songbirds of many sorts, turtles and other amphibious critters on my crossings of the wetlands. Mounds and tufts of green pop up from the water, which rises and lowers according to the season and the particular drought conditions. Those wild roses climb toward the sun, and skeletal trees stripped of bark and limbs are scattered among the living flora. The place has even been the site of scarecrow weddings, courtesy of Hub-Bub artists-in-residence a few years ago.

from SPACE website

But beyond the scenery, I have a thing for crossing over water. All the usual feelings—elemental, cleansing, flow—these all play into my crossings. But there’s a pull, indescribable, I reckon, even for one who tries to describe all things. I don’t always feel that tugging toward water, but a few places around have left me physically and psychically moved.

A few years ago I had a job in Inman, and my route to work crossed over the headwaters of the Lawson’s Fork, just before the various streams coalesce into one, the spot where maps first identify it as the Lawson’s Fork. The road descends into the floodplain, crosses the waters and rises again. There I feel a pull distinct from gravity, one that drew me both into the waters and downstream somehow at the same time. I, like the water, coalesced into stream, and the sensation felt healing.

Another of my favorite Lawson’s Fork crossings is over the abandoned bridge at Glendale. Our SPACE board meetings are held at Wofford’s Goodall Environmental Studies Center, and late for my first meeting, I parked on the south side of the bridge and walked over to save the time of driving the longer way around.

The bridge passes over the calm pond created by the mill dam, over which water spills in cascades, proceeding on its eastward run over the Glendale Shoals that paddlers play in throughout the spring, and where my children have played over the years we’ve visited the Shoals. I have always loved the place where water fall over drops, whether natural or human-made like this one. There’s a solidity that reminds me of the substantial part of water, combined with the constant moving which reminds me of the ephemeral element of water, where you can’t put you foot in the same river twice, the philosopher tells us. The Shoals are a dynamic place, shifting with the rising and lowering of the creek levels.

All these crossings of the Lawson’s Fork keep me feeling a part of the flow of waters of the Earth, even just this small volume a universe itself. Every crossing is new, a ritual re-enactment of every other crossing if I let it, new water and ancient passage, changing course and matter.

Night Running, revisited

I ran tonight after dark with a headlamp for the second time this winter. I thought of this post I wrote last spring after several night runs, some with others and some alone.

In the more than 25 years I’ve been running for exercise, I’ve run in about every situation I can think of.  But lately, I’ve been running at night, on trails, with a headlamp.

I’ve run through the streets of Beijing, New York, Anchorage, and many other cities large and small; run in northern New Hampshire when it was 25 degrees below zero, and in Tucson, Arizona when it was 108.  I’ve run alone, with regular partners, with random strangers, and in large groups.  I’ve run in a couple hundred races or more, from 400 meters to 50 kilometers. 

This winter my two main training partners and I started running at night on trails, at first out of necessity (early dark) and then out of interest and desire.  As daylight hours extend, I sometimes start a run in the light, then finish in the dark by headlamp.  I’ve done some runs by myself with my dog, and some with my friends. 

Some folks think we’re crazy, asking for turned ankles and skinned hands and knees. But the running style changes, slows slightly, we pick up our feet and plant them more firmly to assure good footing.  We run on familiar trails, but they are made unfamiliar by darkness.  It’s not always easy to know where we are, and trail surface becomes much more of a factor as we shine lights ahead of our steps.

Often, in the descending light, focusing without turning on the headlamp makes it easier to see the roots and rocks of the trail.  I feel Bristol hesitate just a bit as we approach major turns we both know well enough to anticipate.  When I turn the light on for good, he accelerates slightly to get just off the front of my light, the better to use his canine sight. With the light illuminating the trail just a few steps ahead of my feet, I have to let myself push on, trusting my light and feet.  The process takes getting used to.

Dark descends quickly at the end, leaving me with that eerie feeling of being watched, though I am comforted knowing we don’t have bears or big cats in this area, and by Bristol’s keen dog-awareness.  Trust my dog, I tell myself.  He’ll let me know if there’s anything out there.

These runs last about an hour or so, sometimes all of it in the dark.  Many 50-milers start in the dark, and if I ever run a 100-miler, I’ll have to run overnight, most likely.  

And this is definitely something to practice—it’s not easy to be alone, with nothing but a light, which makes a kind of bubble around my eyes.  I strain to see beyond the light, and remember Edward Abbey’s command to get rid of the light because it limits your sight. 

Now, with the time change, I likely won’t get in any more dark evening runs; perhaps I’ll get out early some mornings to get that start-in-the-dark practice.