Experiencing the Grand Canyon

When I took up running shortly after turning 50, one of my goals was to get in shape for when I was 75. I used to say that I did not want to drive to a scenic spot on the top of a mountain but hike to it. Take it from me, the view from the mountain top is better if you get there by using your own two feet rather than a car.

As I was walking around the south rim of the Grand Canyon there were throngs of people taking in the awesome views. It was spectacular. They were taking photos of each other using the Grand Canyon as a backdrop to make their photos even more impressive.

I, however, wanted more. I wanted to experience the canyon, not just look at it from the top. So, at the age of 65 I decided to run the Grand Canyon rim to rim to rim (Also referred to as rim2rim2rim) a distance of over 43 miles. I had trained for this run and felt confident but knew that it would not be easy at all. Yet the anticipation and anxiety that I described in a previous blog was gone when I got out of my friend Ed’s car at 3:55 a.m. and ran down the road about half a mile to the South Kaibab trailhead. It was a cold night, but I knew I could remove my jacket and go in a t-shirt once I reached the bottom. I have never been on this trail and had only read about it. Yet I was excited to head into the dark with only my headlamp showing me where to go. Even though I was going downhill my pace was slower than usual. It was dark and that made me slow down to make sure I did not fall. Plus, it was a difficult path to run. I found that the downhill steps on the trail were at unusual distances apart, so my gait was slower than normal. I usually am very good at the downhills but this time I found my pace slower.

Even when the sun began to rise, I did not quicken the pace. Part of that was because I was taking pictures and videos with my cell phone. For some reason the GoPro camera was not working. I was annoyed because I had counted on that for most of my videos. Even without taking pictures I would stop and take in the views. The coloring of the canyon walls kept changing as the sun rose.

After crossing the famed Black Bridge over the Colorado River, I headed towards Phantom Ranch. I had read so much about Phantom Ranch that somehow in my head I pictured it to be a rather modern facility. But I found they were comfortable cabins but rather rustic. It was not to be confused with the celebrated and elegant El Tovar hotel at the top of the south rim. I filled my one water flask that I had used on the way down, took off my jacket and ate a snack. I was disappointed in my time; I was running about 30 minutes behind what I anticipated.  I hoped I could pick up the pace on the rather flat stretch ahead of me along Bright Angel Creek.

I loved this section of the run. The roar of rushing water from the creek accompanied me for the next six miles or so. I also ran through what they call the “box” which is a section where the canyon narrows and it is basically the Bright Angel Creek, the North Kaibab Trail, and the canyon walls. While I was warned about the heat in the “box,” I found it shady, cool and very pleasant. Even though it was enjoyable my pace was still lagging behind my normal trail pace. I was not sure why. I had been very sick the week before so maybe I was not at 100%.  I also had lingering symptoms of the cold, including a stuffy head that required me to stop and blow my nose several times.

I really liked the North Kaibab Trail. The “box” was pleasant and hearing the creek flow was lovely. Then the trail opened up and the walls of the canyon were farther apart and it was a different run. But I still was running slower than usual. I arrived at Cottonwood campground before 9 a.m. and was hoping that I could refill my water flask, but the water was off. I had read that it was off but hoped that by some miracle they had turned it on and forgot to post it. It was a nice campground although the lack of water made it very rustic. The signs said “be quiet” which I obeyed. Then again there was no one to talk to. I headed to Manzanita where I knew that there would be water. While I had plenty of water at the moment, I was going through it fast.

It was a steady but not steep climb to Manzanita. Again after reading about it I expected something larger because of its importance to runners and hikers. It is a vital stop because it has water and port-a-potties. It also had a picnic table. I had passed a few hikers along the way but no runners. I was beginning to suspect I was the last rim2rim2rim runner that day.  This would be my last water stop until I returned on my way back so it was about six miles of a steep climb to the North Kaibab Trailhead at the north rim of the Grand Canyon. The north rim was closed for the season and the water was turned off at the top so I would have to make my water last. I had more than two liters of water, so I thought I would be okay.

The climb up to the top of the north rim was difficult. Not only was it steep but there were sections in which the trail was only about four or five feet wide and there was a cliff drop on one side that kept me from looking out across the canyon walls. The top of the North Rim is over 8,000 feet of elevation so my climb was about 6,000 feet. I was definitely struggling. I was also going through my water at an alarming rate. I was contemplating turning back about a mile from the rim to save time because I could see that it was going to take me 8 hours to get to the rim, which meant probably at least a nine-hour timeframe to return.

I, however, did make it to the north rim and rested a bit. There was some snow on the north rim which was why it is not open until May 15^th. As I was sitting two runners appeared also doing the rim2rim2rim. They were from Texas and Virginia. We talked a bit and I found that they had left at 5:30 a.m. so they were moving faster than I. I had limited water but enough to get back to Manzanita if I was smart. I did have the option of running a mile to a ranger station and then returning. But adding the mileage and time was not appealing to me. Plus going downhill, I probably would not be exerting as much energy as going uphill.

I said goodbye to my fellow rim2rim2rim runners and headed back down the North Kaibab trail. As I headed down the trail, I quickly came upon two runners a short distance from the rim and a little while later two more runners. So there were seven of us rim2rim2rim runners. I was the only solo. It was obvious to me that very few do this journey solo.

I enjoyed the run down to Manzanita. I felt fairly strong and took in the views and took some videos. I also encountered a man who I passed on the way up who was hiking the Arizona Trail from Mexico to Utah. We encouraged each other on our own separate journeys. I was also passed as I suspected by four of the rim2rim2rim runners. The other two runners never passed me.

When I came into Manzanita all four were there taking a break. I quickly used the bathroom facilities and filled my water bladders. I had another long leg without access to water and it would be sunnier and hotter on my way to Phantom Ranch. As we chatted, we all realized that this run was taking us longer than we anticipated. I had anticipated 14-15 hours but would end up over 17 hours.

I was the first to leave Manzanita because I knew that it would take me a lot longer than the four younger runners. As I left I said “I will see you later when you pass me.”  Both sets of runners did pass me a few miles down the trail. I also was hoping that I could get to Phantom Ranch before 4 p.m. so that I could grab their world-famous lemonade and a snack before my last big push up the South Kaibab Trail. It would be a long shot, but it gave me a goal to push myself harder. It ended up being a mistake. I was starving and should have eaten more at Manzanita instead of pushing myself.

I soon realized that Phantom Ranch before 4 p.m. was a dream. I was now both physically and emotionally spent. Despite my fatigue and being a bit despondent about my time I enjoyed the moments of shade in the “box.” As I entered Phantom Ranch, I was very tired. That big push to get there had drained me. I tried to see if I could find a snack but to no avail.

I was contemplating my options. I had my credit card with me. Maybe I could see if there was a cabin available and get a good meal and sleep and head out early in the morning. No, I thought I needed to finish this. So, what if it takes me until the wee hours of the night. I headed to the water station for the last but most difficult leg of the journey.

I was fully experiencing the Grand Canyon –not only its beauty and awe but its difficulties and harshness. Sometimes those qualities of beauty, awe, harshness and difficulty all coexist in one place.

Next Blog The Last Grueling Leg Out of the Canyon

A Runner’s Grand Canyon Resfeber

Resfeber Definition: The restless race of the traveler’s heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together. (Swedish term)

I came across the word resfeber at a 24 hour race I was entered in. It was on the back of the race shirt we got at the race. I loved the term. There is no word in the English language that quite captures one’s mood just before a journey as this one does. While the word is focused on traveling and literally translates to “travel fever” I think it also applies to difficult ultra marathons. They may not involve traveling like when one is on a vacation, but they definitely constitute a journey.

I had set my sights on running the Grand Canyon from the south rim to the north rim and back to the south rim. It would not be the longest run I had ever attempted but it would be a very difficult challenge because of the steepness of the climbs and descents. In addition, the weather could change dramatically from the top of the canyon to the bottom. There would be swings of temperature of more than thirty degrees. In addition, I would need to be self-sufficient, carrying my own food and gear. It would also be a solo journey.

I was at a family Easter party and every so often someone would ask me about the run. People are naturally intrigued by the distance, terrain and the location. While I usually like to regale others with running stories, I was done discussing this story. I had done my research and training and just wanted to do it. I was also a bit nervous as I usually am in anticipation of any difficult run.  I feel very ready but still have to wait.

As I write this paragraph, I am on a jet heading to Phoenix. I will land and spend a night with friends in Scottsdale, then a day later head to the Grand Canyon. The resfeber is building. I feel that mix of anticipation and excitement, but it is mixed with anxiety because I know of the difficulties that lie ahead.

I am wondering what it will feel like to peer out over the Grand Canyon the day before my run knowing that I will be heading down in the dark the next morning. I will have a mini entourage to the Grand Canyon. My wife and our friends Ed and Sue will also go. It will be a long drive to the Grand Canyon. I feel a bit guilty because they are all traveling to the canyon to help me fulfill my adventurous journey.  I know that what I am doing is a bit unique and sometimes it is hard to explain to others, especially people in my age group. Most are thinking of slowing down and I am feeling like speeding up.

I did a short six mile run in the desert setting outside of Sue and Ed’s home in Scottsdale. It felt good after spending all day on a plane and sitting around. It was cool, probably the low fifties or high forties. My running felt a little off. I was not running smoothly. I had been sick the week before but felt I had recovered. However, my routine had been affected. I was not in the moment. My anxiety and anticipation was distracting me.

As we got off the shuttle bus and headed to the ranger station at the top of the south rim, we realized that they were closing. My friends thought it was important to get as much information as I could about the weather. I knew that park rangers were not very enamored with rim2rim2rim runners so I was hesitant to really discuss anything with them that might give me away. So, I saw a friendly ranger and asked her where was the best place to park for the South Kaibab trailhead? I don’t remember who asked but they asked about the weather at the bottom because I was running the rim to rim to rim. Her demeanor immediately changed. “We don’t recommend that anyone do that. It is extremely hot at the bottom. We expect it to be 95 degrees tomorrow.” Now that did not jive with all the reports, I had read but we just walked away.

If her idea was to plant a seed of doubt and maybe change my mind she failed. Though my wife was now hesitant. She said to me “Now Ray don’t do overdo it. Please if it gets to be beyond your ability, it is okay to cut it short.” She knew better than I, that I would push myself as hard as I could. Though as she said loud enough for Ed and Sue to hear “I just wanted to have witnesses that if you don’t make it, I had warned you!” Ed and Sue astutely mentioned that they thought the ranger was trying to scare me by exaggerating the temperature.

As I peered out over the canyon at Mather Point. I have to admit I was in awe because from that vantage point it looked impossible to get down the canyon let alone traverse it. Yet there was only one way that I could eliminate the resfeber. That was to start down the trail. After that it would be like many other difficult runs managing the issues that arise and pushing and motivating myself to keep going.

Yet I hadn’t started the run, and my heart was racing with nervousness. The side effect of this is that sleeping the night before a major run is always difficult. I closed my eyes and dreamt about my upcoming journey.

The next morning, I had no resfeber. It was go time.

Being Miserable Makes for a Perfect Training Race

I had already run over 21 miles and my stomach had almost revolted when I tried eating a short while ago. Yet I continued on. I did not have time to sit and rest until I felt better.

I had to figure out a way to keep moving despite it being difficult keeping the food down. I also had a major climb ahead of me that would sap some of my energy. I was feeling like crap. However, I was thinking that this was a perfect run for me precisely because I was miserable. That is because I needed to be challenged and pushed if I wanted to complete my upcoming challenge in a few weeks.

When I run a trail race the one thing I always try and focus on is being present in the moment. Enjoying the trail, maybe snapping a few photos to document the beauty of the course. Trail running has taken me to parks that I would never have visited without entering a race. It is a belief I have in life as well: Be present in the moment. Sometimes we dwell on the past and fret about the future, and do not enjoy the present.

Try as I might, I couldn’t quite keep that “present” feel on a recent trail ultra marathon. It was the Spring on the Trail 12 Hour Race. The race is located in the Hudson Valley region New York State. It is a beautiful course and I did snap a few pictures, but at times my mind was more than 2,300 miles away on the South or North Kaibab Trails of the Grand Canyon. These are trails my feet have never transversed—yet.  In a few weeks I will be doing the Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim, a distance of between 43-47 miles depending on your route.

I signed up for the race in the Hudson Valley to get in almost the same amount of miles as the Grand Canyon, but I got more than I bargained for. It was more difficult than I anticipated partly because I didn’t study the course enough and partly because things just go wrong in ultra races.

What surprised me about the course was how much elevation it had. (Of course, had I studied it, it would have been apparent.)

There was an elevation rise of almost 600 feet per loop and I would end up doing fourteen loops. That’s more than 8,000 feet of climbing. Those 600 feet of elevation were packed into about a mile and a half climb. This long climb, while much shorter than the two long climbs I would do at the Grand Canyon, was about as good as it gets in my area to train for long vertical climbs. Since this was a loop run I did not really need to take in the views every time. I could pretty much put my head down and pretend I was at the Grand Canyon doing those two long steep ascents. I was pretty good on these climbs, moving rather steadily even after forty miles.

Yet that mistake on my part was a blessing because it was great training for the Grand Canyon run. Even my digestive issues around halfway through were a blessing. I had to figure out how to keep moving when eating was nearly impossible. While on this race I had an aid station plus my own food at my car, at the Grand Canyon the only fuel I will have is what I can carry with me on the run. I had been eating something small every six miles or so but then made a mistake by skipping a meal and trying to eat more to make up for it.

It was also warm day, and then I ate a warm, almost hot pickle at the aid station. Normally pickles can provide a runner with much-needed sodium but this one made me feel queasy. I just walked a bit and ran slowly till my stomach settled down. Lesson learned: Don’t eat a pickle that that has been sitting in the sun after running over 20 miles.

I finished my thirteenth lap and had time for the fourteenth. While I was running this lap, I met a woman who was on the same lap as me. She decided not to do another lap because she had a long ride home. I thought about my Grand Canyon run and realized that there was no option to cut a run short. As I came to this last lap the weather had changed dramatically. It was much colder and began to rain, plus it was getting dark. I was almost gleeful that I had to put on my rain gear and a head lamp. I knew on my Grand Canyon Run I would need to run with my headlamp, so I was happy to take it out. While I don’t anticipate a cold rain at the canyon, it is possible, plus running in miserable weather is always a good training practice.

My legs were tired. My body was wet from the rain and sweat. My stomach was still a little off. It was dark and I needed my headlamp to pack up. I had a long ride home—almost two hours in heavy rain. However, I was very happy with my performance and felt ready for the Grand Canyon. I covered about the same amount of ground as that run in eleven and a half hours.

My putting my head down and plowing ahead made me faster. There was one other lesson on this run. At one point at a beautiful overlook after about ten loops I decided to walk out away from the trail to take a picture. Previously it had been crowded with day hikers. After I took a couple of photos and as I headed back I saw this man-made mini altar. It had a Buddha in the middle, a golf ball, painted rocks, a rainbow heart, and other interesting trinkets.  I laughed and took a picture. Lesson learned. Yes, it is important to plow ahead on a physical quest, but one should take the time and be present in the moment or you might miss something.  I vowed that when I am in the Grand Canyon, I will not blindly push on but take moments to stop and take it all in.

My Cat Angel -Four Pounds of Fur but a Ton of Love, Laughter, and Life

 Part Three – Saying Goodbye to Angel

 

If you haven’t figured it out by reading my previous two blogs about my cat. I am a softy and a bit of a sap when it comes to my cats. What might surprise you is that originally I did not want cats. I told my wife that I was a dog person. These three cats I rave about were the only cats I ever had.  Though I know I will have others because of them.

Having cats is different than having dogs. In the relationship between human and feline it is the cat the determines the rules for affection and love. Some cats refuse to lay on your lap while others get angry when you get up. Some cats you can pick up and cuddle others squirm the minute you begin lifting them up. I abided by the rules for all three cats though Angel was a little different. She demanded that you pay attention to her and did not take no for an answer no matter how busy you were. So, I naturally relented to her wishes. Which led to me becoming a cat caregiver.

It was not very long after Midnight’s death that Angel began to age quickly. She seemed to go from a frisky playful cat to an old and slow cat in months. She would walk very slowly and was not nimble at all, especially for a cat. She also would follow us closely in the kitchen. We ran into her often and just brushing her with our legs would knock her over.

We took her to the vet, and she had a growth in her body but at her age there really was little that could be done. What we did do however was get some high protein food and supplements to give her strength. She was also much smaller now. She was only four pounds, she used to be six pounds. She needed calories. We also had thyroid medicine to give her. The main thing was she was not in any pain just weak.

My morning routine was now set. First, I would cuddle with her for a while. Then I would feed her regular food sprinkled with a protein supplement. A short time later give her thyroid medicine and some treats. Then give her what I called her cat Ensure. A high protein drink. If she was still hungry then feed her some more. Then go for my run.

That was just the morning routine, the same held true for the evening. In the overnight I would check on her and she would sometimes want to cuddle with me and other times she wanted to eat. While her appetite was great, and she was drinking water and having good poops there was a major issue. She would rarely pee in the litter box and the other duty we all hated was cleaning up after her. We had closed off most of the house to her. First, we didn’t want her peeing on the carpet and also she was often getting her claws caught on the carpet stairs.

I was preparing for her passing but doing all I could to keep her alive. I called our house, a feline hospice unit. When I purchased her various foods and supplements, I only purchased a couple of weeks’ worth because I knew she was getting close to the end. This started around the Christmas of 2023. Yet when Christmas of 2024 came and passed my temporary efforts to make her comfortable were working extremely well. I said she was like former President Jimmy Carter who was in hospice for years. Even our vet was amazed that she was still alive.

This constant care for her for over a year predictably drew us even closer. It also made it harder for me to accept the inevitable. This spunky little cat might live forever.

Yet forever came. As we were sitting in our living room with me in my recliner, I had noticed the last two days that Angel was much weaker than normal. The food perked her up but not for very long. I joked with my wife that when she fell asleep on me that she may pee on me because she had little strength. That night I was unfortunately proven right. First, we fell asleep together watching television. When I woke, I noticed I was a little wet. She had peed on me! She was very weak. I carried her with me to the recliner and she and I fell asleep again. I figured I was safe because she had already peed. I noticed that she felt differently on my body. Her body was completely limp. It was if all the muscles in her body were gone. At about 5am I put my hand down on the side of the chair and on the chair covering and it was wet. She had peed again! Luckily missing me but getting the side of the chair covers and the floor. I quickly got up and took the cover off. Noticing that it was mostly on the floor. Cleaned it up and put the chair cover in the wash.

Angel slowly walked around getting a drink of water but then started to just stand and stare. Eventually she stumbled into the litter box to do her duty. I knew the end was near and decided that I would call the vet that day. I was in the recliner hoping she would come to me for some cuddles even though she had slept with me the whole night. Then she fell down and let out a loud meow and was dead. I had never watched a natural death before but knew what it was immediately. It was 6AM and everyone else was asleep. I kissed her and thanked her for being our cat. I found a shoebox and placed her inside it.

I had time to reflect on my Angel because no one else was around. She was the last reminder of my kid’s childhood. We may have all changed but with Angel we had remained the same and treated her the same as when we were younger.

I texted my daughter about Angel and when Patty and Evan came down, we had a good cry. When my cell phone rang and I saw it was my daughter, Lisa, the tears swelled up in my eyes and I could barely get out the words “hello”. We all cried again. Being expected doesn’t make it easier.

When I came down the stairs the next morning, the house felt empty. There was no little white head popping up to greet me. I had plenty of time because there was no cat to take care of. I was lost without my cat duties going through the morning without joy.

That night we started a fire in our fireplace. Which the cats always enjoyed. We were now catless. We were still in shock. My wife said “Angel won the cat lottery when she met you.” Insinuating that her life was much better because of that.

I thought of that fateful day when I switched my lunch plans and Angel ended up in my arms. Of how much we all enjoyed her. I couldn’t imagine the last eighteen years without her. “No” I said, “We won the cat lottery not her.”

My Cat Angel -Four Pounds of Fur but a Ton of Love, Laughter, and Life

Part Two – Living with Angel

 

While Angel was the smallest of our cats, she was the one that was impossible to ignore. That was because she refused to have the humans ignore her.

Our other two cats Midnight and Sterling tolerated Angel but were not enamored with her, especially Midnight who was the “Queen” as we called her and liked to have a quiet life. Angel, was everywhere, always causing mischief. Sterling stood his ground with her, so it was a standoff.

Angel’s forte was not in cultivating feline relationships but in cultivating human relationships. All our family and friends knew Angel because she was part of every family party or a friend’s visit. She would walk around and jump on laps or curl up to our friends and cuddle whether they were cat people or not. Some guests felt so honored that a strange cat would find them so special and give them attention. They thought that Angel thought that they were special. We did not have the heart to tell them that she did that with all our guests and that you were no more special than anyone else in her eyes. Yet I can’t argue that by her doing that she made our guests feel special.

Even though I saw her make everyone believe that they were special because she chose to snuggle with them, even if it was not so and she was just using them. While I was onto her game it does not mean that I was not immune to her charm.  One of our evening routines was that she would snuggle in cozy with my wife on the couch, while my wife read her book or Kindle. When I entered the room and sat in the recliner across the room Angel would pop up her sleepy head and look longingly at me. My wife would say sarcastically “Oh your boyfriend is here. Now you are going to leave me!” Which Angel would promptly do, sometimes in a sleepy stupor, and she looked drunk walking over and jumping on my lap. I think she knew I was one who was easily taken in and would do anything if she showed me affection.  Which admittedly is completely true. She was training me to be her servant and succeeding. Proof of that will come in the following blog.

She was so present with company that sometimes people thought she was our only cat. They would ask “You have other cats too?” They couldn’t remember their names, however. Angel, though, was easy to remember.

Angel had a way of making us all laugh even when what she was doing was wrong. I would find her sleeping in weird positions and places. Once with her head between both legs in her butt.  Other times with her head plopped straight down in front of her. Often in the laundry basket. We had more pictures of her in strange positions than I can count. At the end of the day, we would exchange photos of what Angel was doing.

It should be mentioned that one of her weird sleeping spots caused me my first broken bone in my life. In the early morning hours, one day I was carrying my suit with me down the stairs from the bedroom in the dark. I did not want to wake others by turning on the light. In any case as I walked down the stairs I stepped on Angel and then tumbled down the stairs, breaking a bone in my hand. I almost got mad at her.

Yet when you were down Angel also had the instinct to know when to cuddle with you. This is one reason pet owners love their cats or dogs. When other people are causing you pain, you know your pet is dependable and will love you. While Midnight and Sterling did this too Angel was content to spend hours with you. A truer friend could not be found.

Yet she was mischievous. If there was going to be a cat that jumped on the dining room table for a bite of roasted chicken, it was Angel. If there was a cat that would jump into the Christmas Tree, it was Angel. If there was a cat that would annoy the other cats it was Angel. We found ourselves yelling Angel’s name more than all the other cats and human names combined. She was the annoying little brother who created chaos. Yet we all secretly loved her even more for that crazy personality.

Angel had a bad habit of never retracting her claws. So, when she jumped on your lap in the summer it could be painful. During COVID I was doing a remote interview with the governor of New Jersey. While I had a shirt and tie on for the camera, I was wearing shorts since it was the summer. Angel jumped on me during that interview and it took all the composure I could muster not to wince. Later in her life we would find her claws stuck on the carpeting going to the second floor or hanging off the couch with her claws stuck on the couch covering.

We all depended more on Angel after Sterling passed. We now had two opposite cats, Midnight who was a cat happy to be left alone with her human family and very solitary and Angel who to be frank was a diva.

Yet that diva showed us all that she was not all about herself. When Midnight started to deteriorate, Angel surprised us. You see they had always just tolerated each other. Yet Angel seemed to sense that Midnight was nearing the end. All of a sudden, we saw her sleeping next to Midnight. We were shocked but it did our hearts good. Midnight was our first pet and very special to us. I have written about my love for Midnight as well. (Sorry Sterling but I was not writing my thoughts when you were with us.)

Angel’s small change of affection towards Midnight made her death easier for us. She was instinctively helping us deal with her death.

Yet after Midnight passed, I saw a change in Angel. She was no longer a frisky cat with a pep in her step. She was an older cat who was slowing down. I realized that she was no longer young and was seventeen years old.  Having a young cat or dog is different than having a geriatric pet. More would be demanded of us to repay her for all the love she had shown us.

Part 3 – Saying Goodbye to Angel

My Cat Angel -Four Pounds of Fur but a Ton of Love, Laughter and Life

 Part One – Finding Angel

Sometimes in life a small, seemingly insignificant decision can change your life’s trajectory.

That happened to me and my family. It was lunch time, and I left our office building in Trenton and headed to my car. I was going to go to a restaurant across the river in Pennsylvania for lunch. The minute I got outside the warm spring-like weather hit me. You know how the first really warm day of March feels after months of winter weather. Just as I was about to open my car door I stopped and turned away from my car. I decided to enjoy the weather by walking a few blocks to get a sandwich at a local deli called Lucy’s. A fateful decision.

As I was walking down the sidewalk,  I could see in the distance, a woman and a boy with a large white dog standing in front of some run-down townhouses. I thought the woman had a white puppy in her arms, but when I got closer, I saw that the white puppy was actually a white kitten. They seemed to be a bit upset. I greeted them pleasantly when the woman said “This cat just fell out of this window. I need to check to see if anyone is there. Could you hold her while I check?”  I replied “Sure.”

She quickly put the kitten in my arms and went inside. The second I held this gentle kitten in my arms, my heart melted. Our fates together were sealed when the woman said the apartment was vacant. She couldn’t keep the cat. Just as we were discussing what to do a man walks by and says to the white kitten “Hi little guy. I hope you are okay.” He then told us he was going to give the cat to the pound but they wanted $5 and he didn’t have it. As I looked at this cat I thought of my daughter Lisa. If I told her the story of this kitten and mentioned that I had just left her in the streets Lisa would have been furious at me. Quickly I told the woman I would take her. I asked her if she could hold her for one day so I could get my pet carrier.

When I got home that evening I told my wife the story. She was okay with me bringing her home but in no uncertain terms we were not keeping her. We already had two cats and that was more than enough. It so happened that a woman at work said if we didn’t keep her than she would take her. Great, I had saved her and found her a great home.

The next day I picked up the kitten. I was not really sure whether she was a kitten or cat as she was  so small. As it so happens, I did not need the pet carrier.  As I carried her to my car she snuggled with me. She laid curled up on my lap for the entire hour and a half drive except for one time when she got up and walked to the back seat and then came back to my lap. Her willingness to snuggle was winning me over. While we had two cats that we loved neither one was a lap cat. Her ability to frustrate me also came because when I looked in the back of my car I could see three little poop turds on the floor. I was not mad but just laughed. That was also the beginning of her getting away with almost anything with me.

My kids who were in elementary school at the time, embraced her quickly, even though they knew she was only staying with us temporarily. The new kitten would stay in their rooms because we did not want to introduce her to the other cats.

We needed to take her to our vet for a check up. You name it, she had it, including mites and fleas. The vet was examining her and mentioned that the cat might be pregnant. My wife looked at me and said with disdain “Pregnant!”  I said “Don’t look at me. It’s not like I’m the father.” The vet laughed. It turns out she wasn’t. The vet estimated that she was around ten months old.

We also had to name her. A big decision. I wanted to call her Lucy since that was name of the deli I was going to when I found her. While I thought it was a great idea, my kids shot it down. They settled on Angel. Because of her white fur and gentle affection, it seemed appropriate. Later when she was healthy and settled in, we saw her more mischievous side and it seemed like a less suitable name.

Yet the day was coming that we would have to give her away. I wanted to keep her but my wife was adamant, so I remained silent. I am a softy, and I found her, so my connection was strong. My son Evan, however, had fallen in love with her. He broke down in tears when my wife said that we would have to give her up and that she would have a good home. My wife liked the bond that they had formed and came to me. “Is having three cats too many?” I had my opening. “No” I said. “It will be okay and she is good for Evan.” That sealed the deal.

There was an adjustment period for Angel. Mostly around food. She had been on her own and food was scarce so when we put the food out, she attacked it and ate so fast that sometimes she got sick. We had to find ways to slow her down. Which we eventually did.

One of our other cats, Midnight, was not entirely thrilled with our decision to keep this energetic cat, she was more solitary anyway and adjusted by keeping her distance.  While we had three cats if someone visited they thought we only had one – Angel. The other two, Midnight and Sterling scrambled for cover when someone rang the doorbell or entered the house. Angel would get excited and greet the guests as if it was obvious to all that they had come to see her.

Our family life would never be the same. We had a new member of the family, and that new member would often take center stage at our house.

See Part two – Living with Angel

Racing Not to Win

I was doing my normal morning run when I saw another runner I know, and we stopped running and began chatting. He is about my age, but I got to know him because I knew his son, Gray. I said, “I will be running a race with your son.” He said, “How long?” I said “50k” He replied “Wow”.  I later said he could join us, but he said that was too long. Even though when I talked about doing a shorter distance, he was still a definite no.  Eventually he said I am not very competitive. I don’t race. I have been running for fifty years and maybe did two or three races.”  I was stunned but I respect his philosophy. He just likes running and believe me if I had to choose to only do races or just daily runs I would definitely choose just the daily runs. I did mention to him that “I don’t race to win but I like races to see new places and meet people.”

While I like to race, I have seen people who are the opposite of my friend who are so dialed in to place in the top three or some other time goal, that it borders on being obsessive. Marathoners are often that way, rating each other by the time whether it is three or four hours. I am definitely not that way. I don’t remember what my times are for any of my races.

Don’t get me wrong, I am competitive, but my competition is with myself not others. You see I have the luxury of being in my mid-sixties so I know I can’t win against the much younger runners. So, while I push myself to my limits, I have no anxiety over where I finish.

Now don’t get me wrong I am not laissez faire about the races. If I hear footsteps behind me, I instinctively pick up my pace. If I see a runner in front of me that I think I can pass I make that a goal. Yet I know that I will get passed by other runners and that I will pass others. I am however running faster than on my normal morning runs. The other runners motivate me to go faster and be my best.

The other thing I like about races is to add to what I said to my friend. I love running in new places, especially trail races. I have explored so many parks in New Jersey that I would not have visited without entering the race. I now have entered trail races in other states and have thoroughly enjoyed those runs as well. Sometimes I know that the terrain will be difficult which only makes it more attractive as a race because it will push me even more. In those races even though I am well behind the leaders I feel like I share in the accomplishment of just finishing.

The other reason I race is just the vibe of a race.  Almost all races, whether they are a road race, or a trail race are a festive scene. Runners a very supportive of each other. For most of us it really is not about winning but doing our best.  On a couple of occasions, I have slowed down my pace to help another runner get to the finish line. I finished much further back than I normally would have but I made a friend instead. A great trade off.

A short while later I was at that race with Gray and another friend Dan. Both are young enough to be my sons. It was my first race in a couple of months, and I was returning to that race scene vibe. It would be a very difficult 50k. It was the Febapple Frozen Fifty by the NJ Trail Series. The trails were almost completely ice.  I strapped on my Yaktrax and put my brand-new trekking poles in my backpack in case I needed them. I have never used them before, but the icy conditions made me think they may help.

As if Gray’s dad had somehow put a spell on this race to turn it into a run, the race director announced that his timing system was not working and that he could not give us times. He followed that up by saying the trail conditions were bad and that if anyone wanted to, they could drop down to a shorter distance. For us that meant a twenty miler or even a ten miler.

It was a good thing that I was not racing to win because that first ten-mile loop went as bad as any I had ever had. Not even a mile into the run I took a spill, and my trekking poles flew out of my pack, and it took quite a bit of time to take off my pack and readjust everything. Then in a series of mishaps both of my shoelaces came loose and needed to be retied. My one Yaktrax broke. I missed a turn and wasted time. I again fell hard. This time, setting off an alarm in my Garmin sending for help. Who it was sending a message to I had no idea because I didn’t even know I had that feature. I realized a little later that the alarm had also stopped my GPS so I had no idea how far I had gone.

It was at this point I said to myself “This is not my day maybe I will drop down.” Yet I decided to continue on. I had a long run at the Grand Canyon coming up and I needed to persevere. As I came to the aid station to start my last five miles there was my friend Dan. It was a welcome sight. A friendly face when you are struggling always helps. Gray, who is much faster than either one of us, was six miles ahead and had finished already.  Dan and I would do the last five miles together. I think he was just as happy as I was to have someone alongside him to help get through this difficult race.

It wasn’t pretty but we finished. Our time was at least an hour and a half slower than it would have been under normal conditions. The icy terrain had really tested us. I had overcome all my gear issues and falls. I had almost decided to quit. In reality, I was not really running but slogging up and down icy trails. I know I said that I don’t race to win but somehow this finish made me feel like a winner. I had persevered. That is another reason I like racing, you can feel like a winner even when you don’t win. Maybe I do race to win.