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.