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.

 

 

 

 

The Front Door 3,000 Miler

As I came upon a familiar spot on my daily run I stopped and took a selfie with the lake in the background and another picture of the view I was taking in.  It was December 30^th and it was beautiful morning with temperatures in the high thirties and the sun shining strongly meaning that the temperatures would rise up near sixty degrees that day. While this run was one of my more routine runs it was important to me. As was the spot where I stopped, it meant that I had passed 3,000 miles of running (There were a few walks and hikes sprinkled in as well.) this calendar year.  The vast majority of those miles I had amassed stepping out my front door on routine runs. Even some of the others were a short five minute drive from my house to do trail runs in a park near my house.

That is not to say there were not some amazing and even epic runs this past year away from home. I had completed two marathons one in Atlantic City and one in New York State.  I had done a 100 miles in a Connecticut race. I had run a 100k in central New Jersey. Finally my most epic run was running the length of my home state of New Jersey from High Point to the Cape May Lighthouse. A journey of 196 miles. There were also other half marathons sprinkled in as well. Yet all those achievements were made possible, by stepping out my front door for those routine runs.

The foundation for successful running is the routine. If you stop running or become erratic in your routine the races become harder. When I first took up running I would train for a race maybe a half marathon and then sign up for another race so I would not be tempted to slow down. Now I am in a perpetual state of training ready to take on most any distance under fifty miles the upcoming weekend.

I used the term “successful running” as if we all have the same definition. We obviously do not. For me however it is enjoying every run and when you are in a race happy with where you place because you did your best. I am an older runner so I am never part of the lead pack. At the end of a “successful” run you may be breathing heavy with your hands on your knees with a little exhaustion but a lot of euphoria.

A key for me in logging so many miles is that I have to run outdoors. I love doing long runs and my “short” run is often seven miles. While I have a treadmill I use it when I need to only get in a few miles as a second run on a lunch break or when my schedule prevents me to have the time for a longer run.

Living in a distinct four season area in the state of New Jersey that means running in all types of weather and temperatures. That means running in rain and snow. Temperatures ranging from single digits to 90 degrees. Sometimes you experience the temperature ranges in the same week. For example on the same week that I went over 3,000 miles I was bundled up for a five degree run with layers of clothes hats and gloves and a week later I was in shorts and a t-shirt as temperatures were in the mid-fifties. I know many runners who are fair weather runners who will not run outside once the thermometer hits freezing. I believe that there is a huge benefit to a runner to be able to run in all conditions. Especially if you want to eventually conquer long distance like marathons or ultra-marathons. You cannot be guaranteed great weather on race day.

Yet despite my bravados about conquering the weather that does not mean I just easily go out my front door every morning. No I can readily state that the hardest step on all those runs, is the first step out the front door. A nice cup of coffee is so appealing scrolling through social media or reading a book. Sometimes even though I have run in ice cold weather before, a rest day is more appealing than bundling up. Sometimes the hardest step is just the one getting out of bed. I can’t just get up and run. I need at least thirty to forty minutes to truly wake up before running. It seems so easy to just walk out your front door doesn’t it? Yet many a New Year Resolutions are broken because of the inability to open the front door.

In any case all those mental battles and gyrations that I have to overcome before my run are similar to what other runner’s experience. It is as if I can hear my front door laughing at me. I hear it saying “Not so dedicated today are you? Better luck tomorrow.” I am not sure about others but when I miss a run because I gave into all those obstacles I beat myself up. Luckily I win those battles a lot more than I lose.

As I finished my run that put me over 3,000 miles for the year I stopped my Garmin and the last step felt great. Another great run.  As I walked to my house there was my front door greeting me. It was no longer an obstacle but the finishing line congratulating me on my accomplishment. The man entering the house is always a happier man than the one who goes out.

A new year has begun and I would like to reach that same milestone again. My front door is always there every morning challenging and congratulating me. I love this battle.

The view at 3,000 miles.