Sometimes Miserable Conditions are the Ideal Conditions

As I closed the back door behind me and headed to my rental car the cold rain jolted me awake. I was just happy with myself for waking up this early. It was 5AM and it was not just cold and rainy, but it was dark on this December morning. Just seven hours previously I was eating, drinking, and dancing at a wedding. Now I was shedding the suit and tie for my foul weather running gear. I plugged in the address in my GPS and hoped that it would lead me to a trail race. It was dark and I was in the state of South Carolina and had no idea where I was going. I was just obediently following the directions of Google maps. When I got to a long dirt road with a line of cars parked on the side of the road, I knew that I had arrived at the right location.

Some people may question my sanity for squeezing in an early morning trail race immediately following a festive wedding while traveling. Okay maybe a lot of people. Even my wife, when looking at the weather reports was questioning my sanity. I would be running in the dark with cold rain pelting me. Yet when I arrived at the race registration after walking down the dark road I was elated with my decision. My only regret was that I could only do a 10K. Some of these runners had been running through the night and would be completing 50 miles. I was just there for the last four laps. A lightweight boxer surrounded by heavyweight boxers.

The race was called the Longest Night Run sponsored by the Upstate Race Series in South Caroline. This was a backyard elimination race in which the runners started every twenty-five minutes and run a mile and a half. So, you had plenty of time to complete the loop. Very few people would be eliminated. I was there early so that I could see the runners who had been running all night come in a bit wearily but determined to finish. I was a bit envious of their adventure.

Yes, it was cold in the low forties with a steady rain and the enthusiastic man at the registration desk stated the course was slick and muddy. It was dark and even with my headlamp you could easily slip and fall. Yet despite those challenges I was completely ready because I had already overcome the hardest obstacle to the race. That was getting up out of a warm comfortable bed to go out into the cold rain.

Living in North Jersey I am used to running in all different types of weather from rain, sleet, and snow. From single digit temperatures to ninety degrees. While they all bring a different set of challenges, I find that they all can be overcome. While they may all have a different set of challenges, they all have the same first obstacle. That is deciding to overcome the challenges ahead of you. It is not always easy. Despite going out in all types of weather I do hesitate on some days. Pacing the house waiting for some miraculous break in the weather to make my run easier. There are always reasons not to do your run in bad weather. The mind always makes the obstacles seem more ominous than they really are.

The mind is a powerful tool in overcoming obstacles. A positive mindset is key. As I was waiting for our race to start, I was talking to another runner named Steve. He said “Once you start running than the rain doesn’t seem so bad.” He was right. It is also great to have others around you who are positive about taking on a challenge.

Yet it is the mind that sometimes either creates the obstacle or makes it seem more ominous than it really is. Like in overcoming obstacles the people around you can also help strengthen those obstacles even unknowingly. In my case a few people questioned if I was really going to do this race so early and in such bad weather. I could understand their apprehension. Getting up early in bad weather seems crazy while you are ordering another drink at the open bar. While I confidently said yes, the repeated inquiries did weaken my confidence. It is amazing how much negative energy can affect you.

However, when I arrived at the race my mindset changed completely. Let the fun begin! As the man working at the registration table joyously stated. “It is cold, rainy, muddy and dark. You are going to have a great time out there!” He was right. I was also surrounded by people who were relishing the challenge. It is maybe more amazing how positive energy can lift you up.

Once I started running I felt great. I started tentatively because I was unsure of where I was running on the trail in the dark and pretty much followed other runners. I was towards the front of the pack. At a major bend I could see a parade of headlamps behind me and it was so inspiring. To see about two hundred people running in the dark in bad weather. They were all seemingly happy like me to be in this miserable weather. In our everyday society we would have an umbrella or at least rain gear and walk with our heads down trying to survive the miserable weather. Most people’s mood would also match the weather.

When children are very young, say around the age of three, they stomp in puddles and enjoy the wet weather. Often to their mother’s chagrin. Basically, we trail runners have never matured and learned our mother’s lessons. We are still those three-year-olds stomping in the puddles.

When I was running my second loop, I remember how happy I was. I felt so alive! Ironically the thing that made me feel so alive was the miserable weather. No way I could feel this “Alive” on a treadmill! 

The only thing that dampened my spirits was that I was only doing a 10K. Maybe next year I can come back and do fifty miles, I thought.

When I got back to the house we were renting, only my wife was up. The rest were just beginning to stir. She asked me how my race was? I said that it was great. A little muddy but it was a great group. My enthusiasm was obvious. I think that she is getting used to this sixty-four-year-old man coming back from a race like a little boy. She said with a little sarcasm “Had fun spending time with your peeps!”

“Yes, Yes! I did.” I replied. More people should try and enjoy miserable weather and spending time with adult puddle splashers I thought.

 

 

 

 

 

The Journey to the Starting Line

If you want someone to be forthright and completely honest with you. Have a conversation with them while running alongside them. For some reason all those social armors that we put up to protect our own image seem to weaken when we run. So, when we are running alongside someone, we are more open and likely to express our feelings. There is also something safe in being open with another runner. You instinctively know that you are not being judged.

My cynical side believes this is why most people don’t run. It would force them to be open and honest not only with others but themselves. Then again it could be that it takes effort to run.

I know this to be true because I have run alongside many of my fellow runners and have had great conversations with them. I am always surprised at how candid we all are with each other. While I love to listen to people’s epic adventures during a race and have been known to regale others with my own adventures. What I find most fascinating and illuminating is everyone’s journey to the starting line. It is their “why”. Why did they start running and why do they still run.

The reasons are plentiful and diverse. Some to battle drug or alcohol addiction, some in reaction to a bad relationship, some in response to a chronic health condition, military veterans with PTSD, and mothers who just want to clear their head. I know this because one of the questions I always ask a runner especially on a long run is “Why are you running this race?” The stories then burst out.

My own story seemed less dramatic than everyone else’s. It was a midlife crisis and I wanted to get back in shape. I also saw old age ahead and wanted to not be feeble in my later years. However, when I delved deeper into my own motivations and really listened intently to the other runners those diverse reasons had three common themes.

One is that we had lost control of our lives. We needed to get some semblance of control. That might seem obvious for someone with addiction issues, but I could even see it even in my own life. Yes, I had a great family that I adore and a good career. Yet my life’s schedule was centered around my kid’s life and when not them, my work schedule. We all need some time for ourselves. When we run, we control the pace. If it is an hour or thirty minutes, it is time that you are a master of. In a world in which we have no control it is nice to have that control even if it is for a relatively short time.

Second, we are all striving to be a better version of ourselves. We honestly can see that we have faults, and we need to improve ourselves. This is done by getting away from the more negative and sometimes even destructive ways of dealing with our lives. I have heard often from runners that it seemed like a healthier way to combat an issue. While to an outsider it may seem that we are being selfish putting our running higher on our priority list. (I am aware that we runners can get a bit neurotic about running. Because I have myself done that. Ask my wife.) We are giving our life more structure.

Almost every race that I have been at whether it is a 5K, half-marathon, marathon, or an ultra-marathon there is someone who that race, is a defining point.  They are going to run a distance, they never have before. They have worked hard to get there. They are challenging themselves. The risk of failure is also there. Yet when they achieve their goal, they are a changed person.

Yet this better version of ourselves extends to the rest of our life. Once you feel more comfortable and content with yourself, it will extend to other relationships. I know after I completed my first ultra-marathon the feeling was amazing. The confidence that it instilled permeated into all aspects of my life.

Finally running becomes a form of mindfulness. Some people do meditation or yoga to clear their head. Others like me run. At the end of a morning run I feel like I am ready for the day. I have heard some young mothers say this alone time (alone time for a young mother is a rare commodity.) helps clear their head. You may even know a runner who gets antsy if they get out of their running routine and have not run in a while. I know when I was injured once. I was like a caged animal pacing the house needing to feel the comfort of my regular run.

It is amazing to me how running clears my head and I can see the world better. Often a solution to a work problem becomes evident or even a blog appears out of nowhere. I know that this is true for others as well.

After the race starts the journey for everyone is the same. Some runners, as was stated before may have a race that has more significance. While we may go at different speeds the terrain is the same, as is the weather. Some of us arrive well before others but the path is the same. The finish line is the same. The conversations at the end all center around the journey to that finish line.

Yet what drives all of them and even defines them was their journey to the starting line.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Running is About Much More than Fitness

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost 

We all come to a fork in the road in our life’s journey. Actually, life’s journey is probably a series of forks from which to choose. I can distinctly remember the moment I decided to start running and getting into shape. I had come out of an all-Saturday morning meeting on a cold and wet November morning. When I got out of the conference center the cold light rain hit my face and I felt the cold immediately and was uncomfortable. I thought of my younger brothers who were doing the Tough Mudder. I was thinking they must be very cold and wet right now. The next weekend when they regaled us with the difficulty they had with the cold weather and swimming in frigid water as well as being covered from head to toe in mud. I was jealous. I wanted that same challenge! I wanted to be as miserable as they were! 

It was then that I chose which path I would take and that would be running to get in shape. I am not sure which great American philosopher I was following Robert Frost or maybe it was Yogi Berra who once said “When you come to a fork in the road take it.”. Yet I not only walked down the path I ran down it. I knew where it would lead. It would lead to being in better shape and much healthier than I was.  Maybe even a better quality of life in terms of being able to do more things physically despite the aging process. Yes it was Robert Frost I was following because not many people go into obstacle races, trail races and eventually ultra-marathons after the age of fifty. 

A funny thing happened after I went full speed into obstacle races, trail races, or any other race I could find. Yes, as expected my fitness improved and I was able to quickly increase the distances and difficulty of my runs. Yet what I didn’t expect or even think of, was that I found a community. A running community. Every race was a collection of friends who I hadn’t met yet. I began to see the same faces at races. The ultra and trail running community is a rather small community. So, we end up signing up for some of the same races. You begin to know the race directors as well since this is such a niche sport. 

I know that I am bias, but frankly it is one of the best communities I have ever had the pleasure to be a part of.  It is a community that is built on being supportive. Especially in the trail and ultra running community. I do not know anyone’s religious or political beliefs or their economic status. I can certainly guess but it really has no bearing on our relationship. We come together to push each other and challenge ourselves. 

These friendships form quickly. After running one ultra with someone you seem to be connected for life. Even if you never see them ever again you feel a connection with someone you may have run with. For example, when I did a 50k in Utah I ran the last ten miles or so with a man called Fletch and we were determined to finish together despite his legs seizing up. Another time on a trail half marathon a woman ran behind me for almost the entire race. At the end another woman runner passed me who I thought was her. However, it wasn’t. When I finished twenty yards ahead of her I turned around to greet her and congratulate her. She joked “You thought that was me passing you after trailing for eleven miles didn’t you?”  We hugged and laughed. 

With the advent of social media, we can cheer each other on, from afar. I believe it has enhanced the closeness of the community because we stay in contact with each other sharing race adventures. I may only see someone once or twice a year but I am not out of touch with their life. In fact, I have a few running friends that I correspond with that I have never met in person. Two people, in particular Richard and Cynthia I met when we were the most frequent posters on running website. When the running sight went down, we continued our conversations via email. I believe that we help motivate and inspire each other. While I have never met them, we are definitely friends. 

While most of these people I would not know if I had not taken up running, Some people in my neighborhood community and work life I would have met, Yet sharing our running interest has deepened and enhanced our relationships. 

On maybe my most epic adventure of running, almost two hundred miles from the top of New Jersey to the bottom I did it with some people I barely knew. Yet by the end of the run Ian, Robb, Anthony, Dave, and I were very close. We had worked together to accomplish what seemed like a near impossible goal. We formed a bond through being supportive and encouraging to each other. When you accomplish something as a team you are bonded for life. 

To me the essence of friendship you get from finishing something together helps explain the closeness of the running community. It is like my New Jersey run. Everyone pushing themselves to do their best and we are not only focused on our race but being supportive of other runners. This support is not faked, it is real. Which is why the finish line is so important. It is the goal for everyone. It may be even more important to the last place finisher because it was more difficult. Yet it is a place to share camaraderie. So much so that many races have some type of celebration at the end as well as give out finisher medals. We all wear our medals with pride, and they all are exactly the same because we are one community.

A couple of weeks ago my wife and I were sitting in our living room after dinner talking when our cell phones started dinging. It was two of my running communities group chats starting up. My wife who does not run, has however gotten to know many of my running friends and is on one group chat and follows many others on Facebook. She looked at me and said “It is amazing the friends and relationships we have now.” It is people we would not have known if I had not taken up running. They have all enriched my life greatly and I thank them all. 

Robert Frost was right. I took the road less traveled “And that has made all the difference”.

 

The Essence of Being and Becoming a Runner

As I approached the registration tent for this 5K I could not help but notice how different it was to the race I had competed the previous weekend. That race was a 24 hour, 100 mile or 48 hour endurance race. With the 100-mile mark on almost everyone’s goal list. This was a taco themed fun 5K to raise money for a charity. At the endurance race it was a group of runners who had set up tents for their own aid stations and were serious about logging miles. At the 5k some were dressed in costume and it was more about the comradery and less about the miles. I was thinking that there were probably very few people like me who had run over 100 miles in a race and then signed up for a 5k right after it.

At the endurance race, my goal was to hit the 100-mile mark before the 30 hour mark.  That is the usual cutoff time for a 100-mile race and when you earn a buckle which is a goal of many an ultra-runners. I met my goal rather easily. My friend Dave however, wanted to go the furthest he could in 48 hours and did 135 miles which is pretty impressive. During this race since it is a loop race you talk with other runners, and we talk about strategy and other races. We talk goals and we all encourage ourselves.

At this 5K, my tactic and goal was completely different. I would not run for a good 5K time. For this race I was not competing even against myself. It was more to show my friend Crystal support. She had asked me to join her on this 5K. I had told Crystal and her friend Heather I would run with them. Afterall Crystal was only running because of me. She had heard me speak about my experience running the length of New Jersey and was inspired to begin running again.

There were frivolities all around us and we were joking and at ease ourselves before we started. Yet when the race started both Heather and Crystal became focused. We tried to settle into a nice pace that would get us to the finish line in a respectable time. They had done a 5K about a month before and they had gone out too fast. Which I explained to them is very common even among experienced runners. The adrenaline is pumping, and you see all the other runners and you naturally speed up.  One of the things you have to learn is to block out the other runners and run your own race. Try not to get caught up in the excitement. Much easier said than done. We however did settle into a steady pace for the first mile.

At that mile mark I noticed that Heather’s breathing was irregular and that she was struggling. She soon said that she needed to walk.  She told us to go on. Crystal said she might need to walk soon too so that Heather would not feel down about walking. Yet Crystal and I continued on for another mile at the same pace. In fact, it was slightly faster than the first mile but there was a downhill in this section.  But we would be returning on that same section going uphill soon.

Crystal kept plugging along and I think the uphill slowed her down. Hills not only sap your energy physically but mentally.  When she indicated that she wanted to walk I pointed out a bend in the road and said let’s run to there. It was my way of getting her to run a little more than she would normally. Which she did. We than walked the hill and talked. She had run cross-country in high school and was now just trying to start running again. Both her and Heather are young mothers so having time for themselves is a rare occurrence. I could relate since I had raised a family. I told her my runs were times I was in control of schedule when it seems like I was in control of nothing else. I think that a lot of runners like that moment to themselves running.

We were approaching the last half mile and I said at the upcoming bend we can start running again that it is always good to run to the finish line. She agreed. This last portion of the race we ran and she pushed herself. When we crossed the finish line, she was tired. Her face was red and she sat down on the curb to catch her breath and drink some water. She had pushed herself hard. After watching her I turned around because I wanted to greet Heather at the finish line. I have found that a supportive face at the finish line makes one feel happy. I almost didn’t recognize her because she had taken her jacket off and was now in a bright blue shirt. She crossed the line with a big smile on her face. I gave her a high five. She looked strong and was only a couple of minutes behind us.

It was at this moment at the end when I saw the essence of being and becoming a runner in both of them. They both talked about their improvement from their last run and they had both pushed themselves hard and challenged themselves.  While the distance was not close to the endurance run that Dave and I had done the weekend before. The two of them had pretty much done the same thing as us. They had pushed themselves to their limits. They had analyzed their performance and how they can improve.  They also had fun as we ate our tacos and enjoyed the comradery of other runners. They were now officially runners.

I thought to myself that they don’t know it yet but they will be doing longer distances. I know that both of them will say “Ray you are crazy. This 5K is enough.” I however see a half marathon in their future. They are both very determined and focused women. They will soon conquer the 5K and will push themselves again. When Crystal finishes a half marathon or dare, I say a full marathon. I don’t know whether she will thank me or curse me. Probably both.

The other thing about being a runner is the friendships you build. Dave and I usually do a few races together in the year. We are constantly scouring the internet looking for races. It is almost an addictive behavior. We see many of the same runners at the races and every race is a very supportive environment. It is nice to be around supportive people because it pushes you challenge yourself.

Shortly after the race Crystal texted me with a link to another race and asked me if I was interested. She is definitely now a runner.

Thank You Coach DG

I was a skinny high school sophomore at Boonton High School in the mid 1970’s. I decided to try out for the football team. I had always been a pretty good athlete but now the competition was different. There were so many guys on the team almost all of them bigger than me. I was not even 150 pounds at that time. Though very few were faster than me. Frankly I was a little intimidated by all this. The upperclassman seemed like men to me. I mean many of them had facial hair. While I was a bit intimidated, I was also determined to stick it out and even play some JV.

If I was smart, I would have said that with my size that I wanted to play as a defensive back but some how I was with the defensive ends, which in our high school’s scheme was like an outside linebacker. After all the general drills we broke up into our units and I was with a group of strong large players. I was one of the smallest players.

Coach Gardner (DG as we affectionately called him) selected one of the other sophomores and assigned him the task of selecting where we would practice our drills. Now at the time our fields were among the worst of all the high schools because of their overuse. The player selected a spot with some nice grass not too far from where we were standing.   The veteran players had a glint in their eyes because they knew what was going to happen. All of a sudden DG burst into a high pitched yell and bellowed “We are not going to practice on the grass! We are going to practice on the rocks, dirt and glass! We are defensive ends we are tougher!” We all then ran to the worst section of the fields with joy.

That was my first encounter with DG and that was just one lesson among many that has stayed with me.

Lesson 1 – Turning a disadvantage into an advantage. All the students at the school used to look enviously at some of the other school’s facilities. It was obvious to them that they would be better athletes because they had better facilities. Coach Gardner, however, took our disadvantage and made our unit believe we were tougher than the others because of this disadvantage.     It was brilliant and our unit was always among the best. In life we too often readily accept obstacles as an excuse for not succeeding.

DG was a master motivator and could use anything to his advantage. Frankly his pregame pep talks were legendary. They would make Knute Rockne sound like a Kindergarten teacher.

Lesson 2 – Determination and toughness can take you far. That first year I was not the best player. Not even close!  But I wanted to be on the team. The drills that we had to do were not easy. Success would be measured by just completing them. I know that nowadays these drills may seem excessively violent, but it was the way it was then and frankly I think they helped me later in life. One drill we did was that we had to go through a gauntlet of paired blockers. Not around them but through them. I remember my fear about doing this drill the first time. I was smaller than most and could not really use my greatest strength, my quickness to go around them. Yet I attacked them and made it through eventually.

In this case toughness was not physical it was more mental. Getting through this drill made me aware that I was capable of more than I thought. When I do long ultra marathons, I find that this toughness is not just physical, it’s mental grit. It’s getting through a difficult situation. In life we always encounter disappointment. Like that gauntlet we must keep moving forward with determination and toughness.

Lesson 3 – Having someone believing in you makes a huge difference. While I “survived “my sophomore year, I began to blossom my junior year. I was a little bigger and stronger. DG would coach me hard and tell me where I could improve. Previously my coaches would tell me basics and let me just use my natural athletic ability. Coach Gardner had me focus on eliminating my bad habits. Bad habits that I could get away with when I was younger but no longer could. He also made me focus on the mental aspect of the game reading the offenses and staying in my lane.

His belief in me was evident to everyone. He started calling me “JC Pinney” an obvious connection to the department store. When he yelled my name there was a hint of affection in his voice.  I heard the not so quiet whispers when I was called “Gardner’s son”. It angered me a bit because it was not like he gave me special breaks. Looking back now maybe there was a little affection on his part. For my part there was a deep need to please him and not let him down. I needed to reward his faith in me.

Having someone believe in you can make you perform better. That is true in all aspects of life not just sports.

Lesson 4 – Confidence is necessary. It is very important to have someone believe in you but that will only take you so far. What you need is to believe in yourself. In high school I had very little confidence but with some success on the football field my confidence began to grow. My junior year I was one of only four juniors to receive a letter on a senior laden team with great talent. DG’s coaching had worked. For maybe the first time in my life I felt comfortable about my ability. My senior year DG was not coaching because he wanted to have time to watch his son play his senior year of football. I really missed him, but his two years of tutelage had done its job.

It is funny, confidence is something that is not always permanent and if you start to lose it your performance suffers no matter what you are doing. My greatest successes in life always occurred because I was confident.

Confidence also comes from doing your homework, using your ability and working hard. Not just in sports but in all facets of life. I have learned that in my life but the building block for that knowledge was built on the football field with coach Gardner.

During my chat with DG at the Tourne (See previous blog about our chance meeting.) he said with joy “JC seeing you not only made my day. It made my year!” My reply which eluded me at the time is “DG having you coach me made me a better man.”

 

 

 

A Run that Led me Back in Time to a Turning Point in my Life

As I started on my trail run, I was no more than a tenth of a mile into the woods when there was a loud clap of thunder. I paused but continued. Then there was another clap followed by some light rain. I paused again and started to turn around, but the rain then stopped. I was not worried about getting rained on and wet, though I probably should have been better prepared and brought my poncho. I was more concerned about my phones. I convinced myself that since I had them safely in a plastic bag within my running vest, that they should be okay and if it came down too hard, I could just cut my run short. What I didn’t realize at the time was that the thunder was a signal from the trail running gods that I was going to experience one of my most memorable moments on any run. I would meet up with someone who had a major impact on my life.

At the time I was oblivious to all this and was just trying to get in a good eight or nine mile run. On the run I saw three older gentlemen walking around the lake in which I also circled around. I actually saw them twice and they waved and encouraged me on. All three had the same T-shirt on with the emblem of a wildcat on it. I left the lake for another loop and would eventually return back to the lake and loop it again before traversing other parts of the Tourne County Park.

As I returned back to the lake loop I saw two of the same three gentlemen. I was not sure what had happened to the other man. They stopped and indicated that they wanted to talk. I find this happens often especially with people more elderly, they wonder who this gray-haired man is running for a long time. So we chatted a bit. They asked me how far I was running and were impressed that at the time I was on mile five but wanted to do eight or nine. Then they asked me where I live and somehow during my reply, I mentioned that I went to Boonton High School. The one gentleman then quickly pounced on that and asked “What is your name?” When I replied “Ray Pinney” His eyes lit up with joy. “I was your teacher!” I looked at him and realized that it was my old football coach Dave Gardner or DG as we used to call him.  “DG!” I shouted. “JC Pinney” He replied, using my old high school nickname which he had bestowed upon me during football practice.

Now I have not been coached by DG in forty-eight years but that does not mean I do not think of him. Outside of my parents and family I am hard pressed to think of anyone else who had more of an impact on me than DG. I was so elated to see him but what made me even happier was that he was just as excited as I was. We just hugged each other with pure joy.

I wish that I was more prepared to meet him because I would have waxed poetically about him, but it was such a surprise I was almost speechless. Our affection and respect for each other was obvious and the forty-eight years did nothing to lessen it. In fact, for my part it enhanced it, because now with some of the wisdom I have gained over my sixty-four years of living, I realized how fortunate I was to have DG coach me.  

While I was completely surprised, the lessons of our football drills came to me immediately. I didn’t have to go back far in the rolodex of my mind to find them because I had always kept them in the front of my mind. I did not keep them there to relive the glory days of my youth but more as lessons to help me navigate the present. I told him that I think of him often as well as the drills he lead on the football field. I wanted him to know that he impacted me greatly. Yet I was not sure it came across. You see I still consider myself an athlete, always competing.

His friend whose sons also went to Boonton High and played football though a couple of years ahead of and behind me, remarked to DG. “You seem to remember everyone!” Then DG said something that almost made me cry. “No, I don’t remember everyone just the special ones and Ray is very special.”

He even said I read about you a while back. I said, “My running the length of New Jersey?” He replied “Yeah that was amazing.”

The three of us chatted a while laughing and enjoying ourselves. We took a picture of DG and me.  Then there was a loud clap of thunder, and it seemed that the heavens were going to open up. I was a mile and a half away from my car, so we said our good byes.

As I headed down the trail, I felt so strong and light on my feet. Soon the thunder got louder and more frequent. Yet there was no rain. It was then that I realized that it was the trail gods again admonishing me. Though they did not want to spoil everyone else’s day since it was my mistake that they were upset about.  They were upset for me not saying one thing to DG: “Thank You!” He really helped make me a better man. To make matters worse I didn’t even have his cellphone number to send him the picture.

I relived those times with him and how they are still with me all these years later. When I got home, I told my wife about my encounter.  She really knew nothing about his impact but when I told her the story she said “This was no coincidence. The universe was trying to tell you something.” She was right, I had to do something.

Hopefully he reads this somehow. But maybe more importantly he will read the next blog in which I describe his impact. Thank You Coach

Running in Strange Places

I was a bit nervous and excited as I put on my running shoes to head out for my morning run. Some things were exactly the same as any other day. I had my coffee and scrolled through the internet and social media. I told my wife “I will be back soon.” (Which is not always the truth on my runs.) We were on a vacation in Litchfield County, Connecticut and I had no idea what my route would be or what the distance would be. I would just go out and run until I got to a place that seemed to be a good place to turn around and head back.

When I am away, the running is different. I almost feel like I am cheating on my normal running routine. While I love my regular runs there is something different when you are running in a strange place. On my usual runs I have several routes. They vary in length and terrain but every tree, house, and hill, is familiar. I even see the same people on the run. It screams home with every step.

When I am away it is different. It’s a flirtatious relationship, running somewhere else. With every step it screams a new land. It is hard to explain, but while I traverse the area on my two feet, away from the souvenir shops and tourist traps, I feel I understand and am connected to the area. I seem to understand its uniqueness a little better.

There was the time when I was running on a trail near Santa Cruz, California and it was beautiful. I can still remember a cow mooing, which seemed just around the corner but was actually across the valley below about a half mile away. When I returned back to the hotel I couldn’t help but notice the large amount of dry dirt in my shoes and realized that despite the vegetation around me this was a relatively dry place. When I hear about their difficulty with wildfires I understand.

On a trip to Ireland I got out and ran on a country road which eventually became narrower and narrower. The flowers along the roadside encroaching closer to me with every step, along with the sound of the buzzing bees. In the background the bleating of the sheep in the pasture grew louder. A few days later I am running along the coast and the wind is howling and a light rain starts to fall but the wind makes it feel heavy, making every simple step difficult. This is a land of beauty but is also not a place for the meek.

On my current run in Litchfield County, CT with every step I can feel the Yankee roots of New England. The country road I am on seems to be one large house after another on huge plots of land. It also seems to shout wealth, old money, New England aristocracy. The houses definitely have the architecture of Saltbox Cape Cods and British Colonials which harken back to our nations beginning. Some buildings have been there for over 200 years. There are many stone walls dating back to previous generations. The stone walls are clues that years ago this was mostly farmland. Yet as the farms moved out and houses moved in, the rock walls remained. Mother Nature with her trees began to reclaim some of the land.

The current residents of New England still seem to still hold on to their farming heritage and embrace the history of their land even if they are not farming it. It is like those stone walls even though the world has changed around them, the New Englander’s heritage remains.

The road is narrow, winding, and is on rolling hills. There is very little flat ground. When I enter the forest the next day the trails are much like my New Jersey trails, rocky and hilly. If you placed me there blindfolded I could not name the state I was in. It does not scream New England but does scream that it is definitely a Northeastern part of the country.

Sometimes I feel like a strange runner in a familiar place. I just take off!  I may be running down roads that do not regularly have people running on them. The reactions of people driving their cars indicate they are surprised to see a runner here.  I can tell by the look of the people as I run by their house that they are wondering who that is. They know I am no threat though. Afterall, whoever thinks of runners as dangerous? Odd yes. Dangerous never.

Though I will say runners can be a danger to themselves. This is especially true if we do not know where we are going.  On this trip I took a turn and the road just kept going and going, downhill for two miles. This is not really a bad thing till you realize on your way back you will be running uphill those same two miles. On another occasion I was in a state park in California and the trails looked easy enough from the park map at the trailhead as well as my online map. It was just a few trails. Yet when I started running all of a sudden, there were trails and intersections not on the map and no trails were marked. Not only that but there was no internet connection so my online map was useless. I did make it back to the lot by asking for directions from a local hiker. (My excuse was “I am from New Jersey and don’t understand your trails.” Which I am sure convinced him that all runners from New Jersey are dolts.)

Yet even my mistakes on these runs are memorable. They are part of my travel log.  I will snap pictures of historic sites and reminisce about the cuisine or beautiful parks. I also store all these runs in my memory.

These are not runs with a fitness goal in mind.  I slow down to take in everything around me. It is a very personal experience and one that ties me to the location. Much more than a car drive to a spot that helped make the location a vacation destination. It is also just my solitary experience. It is my feet, my legs, and all my senses, taking in the location.

I remember the views of the runs. I remember times when I entered a normally busy tourist town early in the morning before all the businesses opened and the streets were empty. “It is my town now.” I thought to myself. These runs are also usually early morning so I get to watch a location wake up to a new day.

This trip is coming to an end. Just a few more runs. I will try a different turn today and see where it takes me. Yet like someone who looks forward to sleeping in their own bed after a trip. I am looking forward to running my regular runs again. There is also something comforting about every twist and turn of a route being familiar. It will feel like home.

Setbacks are Part of Comebacks and Life

I was making good time as I ran this rugged trail and was feeling good about my first trail race in six months. I had suffered a stress fracture on my knee and had methodically been rehabbing my training and I was confident that my knee would be able to stand up to the rigors of a rocky and rugged trail race of seventeen miles in the beautiful Stokes State Forest Park. It had been almost six months since I had run a trail race because of the stress fracture in my knee. I had done a 5k road race as a trial and all that did was show me how far that I had to go, to get back in shape. Yet I felt that a couple of months later I was in good enough shape to do this race.

This was my comeback run. My return to running races on a regular basis. It was great to be in the running scene again. Especially trail running. You cannot meet a greater group of people.

It was a perfect day for trail running. In the morning in the high 60’s and while it was August the temperature would stay in the 70’s. I was a few miles in and had just settled into a good pace. I was feeling good when I felt a sharp pain in my right leg and I knew exactly what it was. The good news was that it was not my knee. The bad news was that I was just stung by a hornet and it hurt. This was immediately followed by another bite. I spent the next quarter mile swatting my legs at imaginary hornets without losing my stride. A couple of miles later I was running just behind another runner when she stopped and yelled in pain “What was that?” I could see the hornets buzzing around her and I yelled “Keep going bees. We can’t stay here!” we moved quickly slapping ourselves to no avail. I was stung a couple of more times this time on my left leg.

I continued on to the first aid station at mile 7.5 and was feeling pretty good. I was in a group of four runners who were at the same pace. This was a trail race and it was a rocky course and as I was running I slightly twisted my left ankle a few times. Yet I was feeling good but at mile nine I started to notice a slight pain in my left ankle and foot. I slowed down hoping that would give my body time to recover. Yet every time I stepped on a rock or uneven part of the trail (Which was basically every other step.) the pain would shoot up.

I had been worried about my right knee so much that it never even occurred to me that I could injure anything else. By mile ten I was walking and running and the running was very slow. I kept pushing on because basically I had no choice. I knew that the next aid station was at mile 13.5 but that was just water and that there would likely be no one there to help me.  So I kept telling myself I just need to move one mile at a time, first eleven than twelve miles. It was slow and painful. At one point I saw a large rock that I could sit on and plopped down. I tried to straighten out and take the weight off of my left ankle when all of a sudden my whole left leg from ankle to my hip went into a spasm and I loudly winced in pain as well as shock. I have never felt anything like this before. I have cramped up but that was usually in an isolated spot like my calf or quad. This was my entire leg. I stopped resting.

I continued on but was pretty much just walking now. I came upon a downed tree on the trail and was forced to go almost on all fours to get under it. When I was almost clear of the tree the pain reappeared and I yelled with the pain. It just so happens that another runner was coming upon me and asked worriedly “Are you alright?”  I replied “I will just have to keep moving.”  That shooting pain that froze me in my tracks occurred one more time, I was thinking that at the aid station maybe I could lie down and wait for a volunteer who was refilling the water to come and hitch a ride back. I hated quitting but I was in pain and did not want to make my injury worse.

When I came upon the aid station I contemplated my options. Maybe lay down and wait or limp for 3.5 miles.  I decided to limp the rest of the way. Mainly because I was afraid if I laid down that pain would come back. I was wondering if the bee stings were somehow connected to this pain.

I trudged on slowly being passed by so many runners that it was deflating. I also noticed that my right knee was starting to ache. This concerned me since if this injury came back, I would be sidelined for months. This was my comeback run and it was going horribly bad. This limping and favoring my right leg may have been causing the pain.

The last two miles a couple of runners stopped to see how I was doing. First was Maria a woman that I had seen at numerous races over the years. She said “What are you doing back here? You are normally closer to the front.” It was nice to hear that but I explained my injury. She had one Ibuprofen which I gladly accepted though I knew one was not enough.

A short time later another woman stopped. She had parked next to me at the parking lot and we had chatted. She too offered to help but I told her to go on.

Finally in the last mile my friend Dave came up and said he would stay with me but I told him to go on.

As I came to the last third of a mile I was really not looking forward to it. It was a slightly technical descent and I knew that it would be painful. As I started down the trail there was my friend Dave with his trekking poles. Which were a lifesaver. Even with them it hurt with every step going down. He said that there was a woman who was also going to come with poles until she realized that they were both helping the same person. That is what I love about trail runners, they are so supportive.

I finished the race but I was in pain. I took some ibuprofen and drove home. My ankle throbbing the entire forty-minute ride home.

My comeback was a setback. One of my worst outings as a runner. While the physical pain bothered me it was the mental aspect of falling short which really bothered me. I was thinking that maybe I was getting too old. While walking I noticed some beautiful landscapes along the trail but my sour mood prevented me from going to my cellphone to take pictures.

Yet setbacks are just that setbacks, they are not endings. (Unless you decide it is an ending.) I have suffered many setbacks in my life not just in my running challenges but in my professional life as well. In all cases setbacks are a time to pause and reflect as to what went wrong and how you can do things better. I find setbacks are great motivators. When I pulled a hamstring on my first Tough Mudder or when I got lost on my first ultra marathon. I was down but looked at my effort and returned the following year and did much better. At work I was not promoted when I thought I should have been, but I reflected on my skills and stayed with it and eventually got promoted.

Too often when things go wrong, we say never again. We don’t reflect on it and look at what we can do differently to achieve our goal.  In this case even before my ankle had healed I had figured out my mistake.

When I posted about my tough race on Facebook. Someone posted “That I should listen to my body.” Actually I was thinking I should have listened to my wife. She had said that I should have done more trail runs before this race and she was right. I had not trained right. So, after my ankle healed. I have adjusted my training program. I also carry bug repellant.

 

 

Don’t Take the Easy Path

A few years back I was walking along the path for the tour of the High Falls Gorge in the Adirondacks and there was a fork on the trail.  There in front of me, was a huge sign with an arrow and big bold letters that said “EASY PATH”! It was basically shouting at me and others “Don’t be a dolt and risk the other path.” Interestingly enough the other path had no sign but it was tacitly saying “Difficult Path”. I looked at the “non-easy path” and yes it was steep and wet but hardly treacherous and it gave you better views of the powerful waterfalls and gorge, yes you may get wet from the mist but there was a fence guard rail and other safety features and as I stated earlier it was hardly treacherous. 

The “easy path” was very nice and eventually led you to a distance view of the gorge and waterfalls but there was no mist of water on your face, no peeking over a steep cliff, and no steep climb, it was like viewing the waterfall on a high definition TV. 

It struck me that this fork in the road happens all the time in life. We are confronted with choices. While there may not be the big sign telling us the “Easy Path” we really don’t need it. We intrinsically know it. The “Easy Path” is safer with less risks and challenges. It is almost certain that the “Difficult Path” will entertain more risks and challenges. It is also certain that one of those risks - is failure.

While I have always gravitated towards the more “difficult path” in my life. With raising a family and trying to create a career, the “easy path” sometimes seem to be the only option. Then I began to take up running and things began to change.

Once I started running, I found out one thing more obvious about the difficult path – it leads to more and more paths. You start out and you can barely finish a 5K but something inside of you tells you yes I could have done better.  If I work a little harder, I can do it quicker and if I try a little harder, I can run farther.  Before you know it you are signing up for a 10K, or maybe even a half marathon.

At least that is what happened to me. I ran to get in shape for a Warriors Dash but after completing the race I realized that if I did not sign up for another race I may fall prey to the “easy path” so I quickly signed up for a Tough Mudder.  This kept me focused on running and training. One difficult path lead to another difficult path.  Soon there were Spartan Races and grueling trail races.  The “difficult path” kept presenting me with choices that were much more  interesting. Before I knew it. I signed up for a fifty-mile trail run and that lead to a series of ultra-marathons including a 100 mile run.

I realized soon that the reason I was avoiding the “Easy Path” was not that I was being a contrarian (Okay I will admit that I am a bit of a contrarian.) but that I was seeking challenges. It is one reason I love the running community, people are always seeking out challenges.  You see it posted all the time, runners all the time asking for advice as they attempt their first half, full, or ultra-marathon.  It is hard to describe the feeling of conquering such challenges but there is a sense of accomplishment and pride that permeates every molecule in your body. That includes the sore ones and maybe they feel it the most because those are your souvenirs of your accomplishment.

While I am painting a very positive picture of seeking out challenges and conquering them and basking in your success. There are two things that you should know about seeking challenges.

First, you will suffer setbacks and failure.  My first ultra-marathon, which was a fifty-mile race, was not very pretty. While I finished, it took me almost seventeen hours as I made a wrong turn and ended up walking the last twenty miles or so. My first Tough Mudder, I also finished but I was literally limping to the finish line. These setbacks however motivated me that I could do them even better the second time if I avoided my mistakes. Which I did.

Second, this feeling of searching for challenges to take on and conquer - is very addicting. As I described earlier I came to running ultra-marathons, because I kept seeking challenges.  I believe other ultra-runners took similar journeys. The problem is that the feeling doesn’t last forever and before you know it you need your race-fix again.

Actually, I made a mistake. There is a third thing that you should know. That is unless you decide to take the “difficult path”, you will never know what you are capable of. The “easy path” is one that maintains limits while the difficult path pushes the limits.

This is true in life as well as running. You probably see it at work. People who are very good at doing the bare minimum. We sometimes have to push and challenge ourselves. Our greatest achievements in life were almost always, a time we conquered a difficult challenge. Easy paths do not provide that same sense of accomplishment.

I am not saying we have to push ourselves to our limits every day. In fact, most of my runs are “easy” runs not pushing myself to the limits but preparing myself for the next major challenge.  Yet I am always on the lookout and preparing for a challenge because those options pop up often.

When the opportunity arises, and you are confronted with a choice of two paths. Which will you select?

Shaking Hands with Father Time

I have been in many competitions over the course of my life and I know what it feels like to win and what it feels like to lose.  Unfortunately, I have definitely been on the losing side more often than the winning side.  In every competition there comes a point when you know that you or your team cannot win. It is at that time when you are being tested the most. It is easy to coast and go through the motions when you know that you are overmatched or cannot win.  I am in that situation now.  I am in a battle I know that I cannot win.  I am in a battle with Father Time. As we all know Father Time is undefeated as even Tom Brady found out.

What started out as a mild and fun skirmish with Father Time is now growing more intense with haymakers being thrown and the battle now more personal than ever before. When I first started to battle Father Time I was turning fifty and had realized that while I was in rather good shape if I continued on my somewhat sedentary life I would age rather fast. I originally wanted to just be fit enough to walk and hike miles in the woods. Nothing special much like a man wanting to play golf on a regular basis when he retires. Father Times likes it that way. You are conceding the battle early because he has convinced you, that in your mind, you are old.

Somewhere along the line I stopped thinking I was getting old. That I still had something left in my tank. I started doing Tough Mudders, Spartans and tough trail races. Each year while I was aging I was also pushing myself to do even harder and tougher events. I will let you know that Father Time does not like that and there is a reason he is undefeated.  He fights dirty. He will pull a muscle here, sprain and ankle there, and take away a little agility. All reminders that you are getting old. Just relax and all those aches and pains will go away he is telling you.

All those little injuries hit me, but they did not deter me. They actually inspired me, to not only continue but to be smarter about my fitness. Soon in my sixties I was able attain my greatest athletic achievements of my life, running a 100 miles twice not to mention almost a two hundred mile trek across the length of New Jersey. I was feeling great about my health and fitness and definitely not feeling old.

Father Time was not amused and decided to remind me who the champion was by landing a couple of haymakers. First, he hit me below the belt with a punch to my knee and I suffered a stress fracture on my right knee sidelining me for a few months from any running. Then people I know around my age started suffering serious health and physical injuries. As I said Father Time does not fight fair attacking not only you but the ones around you. He is intent on breaking your spirit and having you concede that you are old.

I have to admit, I was reeling with my injury. The more I did nothing, the harder it was to regain the fitness intensity I had. Yet when I had first suffered my injury I had confidently and with a little cockiness told my doctor I would do another ultra-marathon and send him the picture so that others would know it was possible. I also pushed for physical therapy so I could focus on my comeback.

Despite my bravado it is not easy because my confidence has been sapped. However, with every run it starts to grow. I not only need to build up my physical strength but more importantly my mental strength. That will really piss off Father Time. That is what he wants to do. He wants to break your spirit.

Obviously, Father Time is the toughest competitor I have ever faced. I have a strange dream and goal pertaining to Father Time. At the end of a tough race or any sporting contest the competitors shake hands at the end acknowledging each other’s efforts.

When my time comes on Earth, and I hopefully ascend to the pearly gates. The first face I want to see is not any deceased family or friends. I know that sounds wrong but there will be eternity for that. I want to be greeted by Father Time.

I want to shake hands with Father Time. I am hoping that he says “Pinney you really were one of the hardest people I had to fight.” I would then reply “Thank you Father Time our battle made me a better man.”  Then I would kick him in the knee with all my strength and say “Two can play at that game!” Look I said I lost a lot I never said I liked it.

A Comeback Needing to Blend the Body and the Mind and Confronting Fear

I have given a few presentations to groups based on my ultra running adventures and why I do ultra marathons. One of my main points that I usually say is that I have eliminated the word later from my vocabulary. If I am thinking I want to do something I need to do it now and not put it off to later. We tend to always wait for the “right time” to do things. So later is too often the easy choice. I would argue (quite convincingly I might add.) that later is the wrong choice during my presentations. Now I feel somewhat like a hypocrite in that all I can think of is what I will be doing later!

That is because I am recovering from a stress fracture and that takes time. If you look at me you would not know that I am injured. I can walk easily, do yard work, go up stairs easily, and even go into a short run easily. Probably that would be enough for most men in their sixties but not me. I want to not just run again but run long distances like ultra-marathons. The motto that hangs on the wall at the Jag One Physical Therapy is Get Back the Life you Love! That means for me rehabbing for later.

I have always believed and chronicled it in previous blogs that the mental game is a key component of completing any grueling race. Staying focused on the goal and not letting obstacles stop you. I have found that is not only true on a race but also on a comeback. It is a combination of mental grit and physical training. A complete blend of body and mind.

I always thought I had a good blend of body and mind when I ran grueling trail races or ultra-marathons but I am finding getting that right blend on a comeback much more difficult. That is because this mental game is different. It is also because I am distracted by fear. Fear that the injury will return. Fear that I may never be able to go back to that life I love. It is hard to have a strong mind when you are filled with fear. Fear also saps your self-confidence. The reason I could complete so many runs was that I had no fear. I could confront any challenge whether it was weather, terrain, or pain and just keep moving forward with confidence. But now fear has me stuck in the same place..

It was time to confront my fear. I had to try and run again. My fear however, is well founded. Because if I come back too soon I could suffer a relapse and then I am starting all over again.

I step out of my car take a few steps and look around the park. It is a beautiful day and a great one for a run. Yet I am nervous. This will be my first run in over three months. Well technically I did run before but that was on an anti-gravity treadmill so I was not at full weight.

I start exceedingly slowly on this completely flat and soft cinder path. Perfect for my first run. As I run I can’t help but concentrate on how my right knee feels. Something I have been doing for months. Every twinge and ache I notice. With every twinge I wonder if the injury has not healed. Then as I run something happens. I can’t recall when it occurred because it is that I realized that I had forgotten about my knee. I was just running and not thinking about my knee. That is a great sign. It is funny but that was when I first started thinking of running again. When I would go through the day and completely forget I was injured.

With every step I took I could feel the fear start to leave my body and my confidence grow. It wasn’t completely gone because I still have to be careful on this recovery. This is the difficult part for me. Normally I push through difficult moments but with this injury I have to also take my foot off the gas pedal and slow down not rev the engine to get through.

That run, was only part one. I had to see how my knee felt that night and the next day. You would think that that would be easy but when you focus on one part every twitch seems serious. Several times I would be walking or even laying down and I would say that pain is not good only to realize it was my left knee that was hurting which was my good knee!  In addition, the ache and pain had to be the same as it was when I had the stress fracture and to be honest, I was having a hard time remembering how the pain felt. Afterall not all pain is the same.

Despite my rather poor self-diagnostic skills my knee seemed okay and I ran again. I should note that these were not straight runs but I would run for ten minutes and the walk for five, The next two times increasing the times of running while decreasing the time of walking. I also never ran back-to-back days.

Even running gently at this public park my mind gets in the way. I am running this flat easy track when I was known for rugged terrain and long distances. I feel like a major league ballplayer now back playing the minor leagues. One time when I stopped running to go into my walk cycle, a runner was coming the opposite way and he tried to be encouraging yelled “Don’t stop keep going!” I was embarrassed that to him I looked like an old man who couldn’t keep up the pace. I yelled back “I have an interval plan.” I felt like stopping him and telling him my whole story.  That way he wouldn’t think that I was just another pathetic old man trying to run. Yet doing that would have been even more pathetic.

Those interval runs had been six or seven miles in length each. While it was obvious I was out of shape because my leg muscles ached much more than my knee after the runs.  I knew if I was careful things should be okay. While the fear is not completely gone, and I will do my comeback slowly, I was confident enough to sign up for a short 5K. Obviously later was not an option.

Behind Every Badass is a Mom Who is Badder

I sometimes kinda picture myself as an AARP badass. I am in my sixties running ultra-marathons and rugged trail races. Not something that many people do my age or even at any age. I have run through snow, rain, and mud so sloppy that I can’t see my feet. I love it. Because when I am doing these things I feel so alive.

I believe that to do these things you have to have an inner grit and toughness. Obstacles appear on a regular basis testing your will to go on. The ability to overcome the obstacles makes me feel like a so called “badass”. I thought that it was completely an inner will power that I had nurtured completely on my own. I was pretty impressed with myself until the moment occurred when I realized that I was full of shit! That occurred in a hospital emergency room. It was then I realized that maybe genetics may have played a role in my badassiness.

I was in the emergency room with my 95 year old mother. Waiting patiently for all her test results to come in and tell us what was wrong. It was over six hours and her patience with the wait had reached its limit. When the doctor came in to discuss her condition. At one point the doctor asked her “How was your walking right before you came here?”

My mother quickly responded “Fine no problem. No cane, no problem.”

The doctor was pleased with her answer and then was going to make plans to discharge her.

After the doctor left I said “Mom that does not jive with what Denise (my sister) told me.”

She looked at me and said “I know but I wasn’t going to tell her that!”

She wanted to get discharged and she knew what to say.

That wasn’t the first time I had blatantly observed my mother lie to a medical doctor over her condition. On another time after she had been hospitalized she was seeing her general practitioner. The doctor asked her “How is your appetite? Are you eating enough?” She responded in the positive “Yes I am eating normally.” Now I knew at the time, that this was not true at all. I interjected “Mom that’s not true! You are not eating.” She responded by kicking me in front of the doctor for tattling on her. She was 92 years old at the time.

The point is not that my mom is a bad patient. In fact later in the emergency room we came clear with the doctor and she was admitted as a patient.

No, it is that I just realized how she is always pushing forward thinking that she will persevere. A positive outlook that she will get through some tough things. Believe me that later in life she has had some tough times with her health but she always pushes forward. She is amazingly very alert and with it, particularly at 95.

Maybe it is that generation. She was part of the “Greatest Generation” that lived and grew up in the Great Depression and World War II. My father was also that way. Always pushing forward and never giving in, until cancer took him at age 84.

This is not a happy go lucky type of optimism that ignores the obstacles but focuses on overcoming the obstacles. Looking back I noticed that they both employed this attitude in all aspects of their life not just their health. Both working hard to raise a family while high incomes were not easy to come by.

It is funny I did not really dwell on my mom’s toughness and dogged determination until I began reflecting on how I get through some tough runs. Some of my fellow runners were always impressed not with my speed, gait, gear, or my strength. I really do not stand out in any of these areas. What they would complement me on, was my determination. Many others would stop running and not push themselves when the weather or terrain got bad. I just took the obstacles as a challenge to overcome, just like my parents persevered through life.

Now I know that my greatest athletic asset is this dogged determination, which is not completely of my own making but comes from my mother. Someone who you would not be associated with rigorous physical activity. She is well under five feet tall and all of 90 pounds. Yet she is the toughest person I know.

While I am very happy and proud that I have inherited my mother’s toughness for my runs I am even happier that these traits are even more valuable in everyday life. That is because everyday life sometimes throws obstacles at you that are tougher than any trail race. 

As I write this I am once again in a medical facility waiting for my wife to come out from a routine medical procedure. On the television in the waiting room is some morning talk show that I have never heard of, but then again most week day mornings I work and if I am off, either running or doing a chore.  Ironically the guest who comes on is the author of the book You are a Badass, Jen Sincero. I am too far away to follow the conversation closely but then again I don’t need to. I don’t need to read a book to learn how to be a badass. I have my mother.

A Runner Feeling Lost Staying in Place with no Destination

I am looking lovingly at my gnarly toenail on my big toe. It is about to come off with a yellowish-purple hue and dried blood underneath. Most people would be repulsed and cringe at the sight of such an ugly toe but at this time I am admiring it. It is a symbol of who I was and who I want to be again. It is a souvenir of my last trail race, an ultra-marathon. A tough course that I was proud that I finished under the cutoff time. There are few things more exhilarating than finishing an ultra-marathon, marathon or a long trail race.

Yet I can’t plan any more races. I look down on the floor next to the recliner and gaze with frustration at my crutches. They will be my constant companions for the next month as I begin the long process of becoming a runner again. I am so longing to lose another toenail again.

You see I am lost. I am a runner who can’t run. In fact I can’t even walk at the moment. I remember the visit to the doctor’s office, to discuss my MRI. Going in I knew what to expect, a torn meniscus, with surgery to follow. I had researched the issues and was confident that while I would be sidelined for a while it would not be very long before I could start an active lifestyle again. Yes maybe I wouldn’t run an ultra-marathon soon but I would be able to run and walk fairly quickly. My orthopedist walked in and handed me the printout that described the MRI results. I was a little perplexed as to why he gave it me because my understanding of medical terminology is very limited. Basically when I am seeing a doctor my vocabulary is “Yes that hurts” and “Yes I feel awful”. Despite my limited knowledge I started scanning through the results and what I quickly spied was a separate paragraph that stated “shows no articulating meniscal tear” I was shocked! If it’s not my meniscus what is it I thought?

He soon answered my question “You have a bone issue”. It was a stress fracture of my knee bone. The only way for this to heal, is to not put weight on my knee. That meant crutches for a while and even when I was feeling better one crutch or a cane. I had to keep weight off of my right leg. No Running or even walking for a long time. He said I wouldn’t be running again until the summer and this was mid-March and so it was not even spring yet. I was scared because I knew that this was going to be hard for me. I am constantly in motion and now I had to slow down considerably.  Despite my trepidation I was still determined and told him “When I run my next 100 mile run or the state of New Jersey again. I will let you know, so that other patients know what is possible.”

My bravados of that statement however was confronted immediately as he handed me the crutches. He saw how I was looking at office exit and ready to depart his office quickly. His parting words of advice to me was “Think slow”. I quickly said I would and then hobbled out of his office rather quickly on my crutches. Lesson not learned.

Over the next few days however I learned that I would have to not only “think slow” but move slow. This slow action would be the quickest way to heal. That was easier said than done. When it is in your nature to be in motion it is hard to sit still. Even at work when I am at a meeting, I would buzz around a room talking to as many attendees as possible. Yet now I stayed in one place.

I was always able to persevere through a race despite pain and fatigue simply by focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other and to keep moving. This is different. Very different. To push through, I actually have to not move. I am worried about the side effects of this healing process. Basically weight gain and becoming permanently lazy.

I now have a new appreciation for the difficulty that people with physical handicaps have to go through. Actions that people who are healthy do not even think about, now become obstacles. When one has to stop and think about “How am I going to get my cup of coffee from the counter to the dining room table?” you realize that this is some people’s everyday life. I come to a heavy door at a retail store and have to pause to contemplate how I am going to get in. My handicap is temporary and I am grateful.

While I cannot use some of my most basic strategies that I used in ultra-marathons to heal this time. There is one strategy I can and will use. That is to break the challenge up into smaller more attainable challenges. For example when I was running almost two hundred miles from the top of New Jersey to the bottom. I rarely thought of the entire feat. That would seem to daunting especially if you are exhausted. Even if I had completed over seventy-five percent of the run at a hundred and fifty miles and there was only forty-six miles left. That last forty-six miles seemed daunting. No I broke it up to just getting to the next aid station and that was usually around eight miles or so. It kept me fresher and focused on what was immediately in front of me. Everything was attainable.

I am doing that with this challenge. Yes I hate just sitting around. Yes I am itching to just get up and walk. Yes this is hard for me. Yet I just say every day I can get through this day. Unlike a race in which I may push through some of the aches and pains. Now I am in tune with my body to see if my pain is diminishing. Every time I sense it is getting better it gives me incentive to continue the process.

I won’t lie. This is killing me. Whenever you watch a video of an athlete’s comeback, it is a video of them working out hard, sweat pouring from their body an inspirational music like from the movie Rocky playing in the background. My video would be of a man sitting in a recliner reading a book or scrolling through his cellphone with the sound of a clock ticking in the background. Hardly inspirational.

There is one other thing that I have to overcome and that is doubt. I know at my age (63) this may take time to heal and that even when I run again I may have to alter my training. Yet I hear the doubt in others when they hear about my injury. A common retort is “You are getting old” or “age is finally catching up.” It really stings because they may be right.  I feel that some are thinking “Ray, you gave it a great run but Father Time is undefeated.” Yet this may be my biggest motivator. I like the challenges of aging. I like the challenge of doing the difficult. I don’t need to win a race… just finish it.

I know that most people will not understand this desire to push my body to its limits but it is who I am. Then again they probably don’t understand my desire to one day to lose another toenail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The World’s Toughest Marathon (Or at Least Mine)

Robvr Corporis Fortivdo Mentis

There comes a time on all ultra-marathons and difficult trail races when I question not only whether I will finish the race but why did I sign up for it? I was about halfway through a trail “marathon” and I was beat. I use the word “marathon” loosely because like many trail races mileage numbers are really approximations. It was three loops and the first loop according to my Garmin was well over nine miles. It was now my time to do the math. I had to calculate if I would be able to finish before the ten hour cutoff time.

A ten hour cutoff for a marathon seems long but this was no ordinary marathon. Oh wait as I wrote before it is already going to be longer than a marathon (Just under 29 miles.) and secondly it had two long steep climbs on each loop. (I recorded each loop at 2,200 feet.) Thirdly I had tweaked my knee a few weeks before the race so I was not in peak condition. Lastly, I should also note that this race was originally a snowshoe race but there was no snow just a lot of icy patches on the trail. We also had to carry our snowshoes which added another obstacle.

While I was calculating my chances of finishing I realized that I had already made two mistakes that were costing me. While I had actually done very well on the first lap doing it in about 2 hours and 20 minutes well ahead of the pace needed. I had not really refueled my calorie intake at the aid station and was feeling light headed. In fact I probably should have packed in more calories before the race. I quickly took out a granola bar and some nuts to get me through to the end of the second lap.

It was at this point in which I was deciding whether I should be satisfied with just two laps and almost twenty miles or push myself to my limits with a third loop. This is when I thought of the motto of the Endurance Society which was hosting the race “Robvr Corporis Fortivdo Mentis” which I believe translates to “physical strength, mental fortitude”. I had enough time but I had to keep moving forward and be smart about it.

My plan for the first loop was to be steady on the uphill’s and attack the downhills and have a steady run on the flats. It had worked on the first loop. While not extremely fast on the climbs I kept moving. On the downhills I flew. The first one was a long almost mile of a steep descent. I was with two other runners when I took off and I heard one say “Ray is flying!” and I was. I never saw them again.

Yet when I hit the second loop, the first ascent was not steady and while I was pushing through it I was struggling. Even on that fun descent I was not as agile as I was on the first descent so I was going at three quarters the pace I did the first time. I was also feeling a pain in my left toe and knew that this race would cost me a toenail. For me it was the flats in which I really had to push myself both physically and mentally. Every fiber in my body wanted to just walk but I knew that would slow me down and prevent me from finishing. Funny thing is when I started to run slowly my body and mind started to shift gears and adjust. Running was not just okay but preferable and even lifted my spirits.

It was “Robvr Corporis Fortivdo Mentis” getting me through this second lap. Yet I would need more than “Robvr Corporis Fortivdo Mentis” to get me through the third loop. I needed fuel. I kept saying to myself push yourself for the food and water. When I got to the aid station the race director asked how I was doing. I said I need calories. He said “We have pulled pork.” My eyes and stomach lit up. Yes, I had a bowl of pulled pork with some rice. I savored every morsel. Then I went to my car and downed a lot of water and electrolytes. Ate a pickle, granola bar, nuts and dried fruit. I have had some exquisite meals in five star restaurants but if you really want to understand the value of food as fuel, run an ultra-marathon.

The race director who was very attentive asked how I was doing. He said if I can keep this pace up I should finish with plenty of time. I said I would not be able to keep this pace up and brought my headlamp just in case. My “Robvr Corporis Fortivdo Mentis” was waning. I had arrived at 1:40PM and had until 6PM to finish but I spent a lot of time eating and drinking but four hours should be enough time to finish. Though it meant I had to keep pushing. I also discarded my Yaktrax because they had fallen apart probably from the quick descents.

My knee was holding up but that may have been because I was pumping Ibuprofen into my body. While I am an older runner I usually do not have too many issues with my leg muscles but my quads, hamstrings and calves were all barking.

Completely hydrated and with a full stomach I set out. It is amazing how refueling really helps the mindset. Yet that positive mindset was confronted by a steep climb. Steep ascents have a way of taxing the body and the mind. I kept telling myself when I started this I had two difficult climbs. I did them before, and I can do them one more time, though slower. Without my cleats however I fell a few times on the ice.

When I got to the second climb I realized that time was waning. There may not be anyone left on the course because of the cut off times. I did come across a solo hiker and we chatted a bit at the top. He said here comes your competition. There in the distance came another runner or should I say power walker. This motivated me to push on. I did not feel like getting passed in the homestretch. So when I came to the next descent I sped up.

Yet every once and a while I heard the pounding of his trekking poles echoing through the forest behind me. They were urging me on. I am a bit competitive and my fragile ego did not want to be passed even though it really did not matter. Darkness was setting in but I would not need my headlamp.

I came into the aid station with 20 minutes to spare. I even got fifth place and the power walker with the loud trekking poles behind me, got sixth place. I thanked him for pushing me. To say that I was in fifth place shocked me. Apparently the brutal course and lack of snow had kept half the runners from either finishing or even starting the race.  Most entrants were also much smarter than me and opted to run just one loop.

The questions that I asked myself about halfway “Will I finish the race? Why did I sign up for it?” Were answered. Yes I would finish the race I had the mental and physical strength to finish. Why did I sign up? That is easy because I wanted to test my physical strength and mental fortitude. I will obviously sign up for another race for the same reason. There is nothing like it. Robvr Corporis Fortivdo Mentis.