“Reservoir Jogs”, coming soon to a theater near you

This DailyMile thing is a hoot.  I’ve met some seriously cool people through the start-up, athlete-oriented, social networking site.

Dave organized a run that took place yesterday morning around the north Boulder back roads.  This was one of his long runs for his training program for the Boston Marathon, and he wanted some company.  He promised that the pace would be an average 8:45/mile, so I signed on.  This would be my longest run since CIM back in December, though I’ve been ramping up since getting the go-ahead from my Physical Therapist.

Those who wanted to run 20-22 miles met Dave at his house and headed north at 7am into the Boulder Reservoir area.  Those of us who wanted to run a much shorter version, only 12 miles, met the group at the Eagle Trailhead on the northwest side of the Rez.  We were ready and waiting at 8am, but realistically should have known that they wouldn’t show up until almost 8:15am.  The extra time of standing around in the parking lot gave us time to introduce ourselves and get chilled by the north wind that was whipping through the area.

Karen and AJ had come up from Castle Rock, so we discussed the differences in terrain between the north and south sections of the Front Range.  After a while the group appeared on the Eagle trail to the west of us; Karen and AJ picked out Jon in his bright green jacket, Rick in his black, Jen in the pigtails and Dave wearing his DailyMile wicking shirt.

They were 8 miles in at this point, and it was a good pausing place to introduce ourselves to the ones we didn’t know yet, get directions for the next loop from Dave, and then resume our run.  Dave is the only one that I had met before, though I knew of most of the other runners virtually.

When I left the house at 7:30 I hadn’t fully decided what I wanted to wear, so I layered up.  Shorts underneath running pants, a t-shirt and arm warmers underneath a longsleeve.  The temp was around 43 degrees, which is right on the cusp of shorts/pants weather.  Depending on the wind and cloud cover, I might or might not opt for shorts.

I kept all the layers on when we started the run.  The wind was up and the clouds blocked out some of the warmth.  I was carrying my Nathan hydration pack and would take off a layer if need be, and toss it in the pack.  Easy.

Jen showed up with the same hydration pack, so we were Twinsies!  Karen had been asking if it was comfortable to run in; maybe seeing two of us use it convinced her to try it.

As we started out around the Rez I had a massive moment of déjà-vu.  I could have sworn that we had already done this loop and were repeating ourselves for the second or third time.  Maybe this is a sign that I’ve been running at the Rez a lot this year; either that or it enters my subconscious a lot and I spend more time running in circles than I thought.

The wind blew us hard.  I tucked in between AJ and Rick and drafted for a few minutes, and our group run in a tight bunch for my first 1.5 miles.

At mile 2 (remember, this is MY mile 2; some of the group were on their 10th mile at this point) Dave stopped to remove a rock from his shoe and discuss routes again.  I used to pause to remove my running pants and stuff them in my pack.  Some of the group wanted to tack on and make it a solid 22 miles.  We had the option of circling Coot Lake and gaining a mile at this point, which would also push us 12-milers into the 13-mile range.  Everyone was in the agreement, then looked to me for my vote.  “I usually just bow to peer pressure in situations like this,” I told them.  Thus, it was decided.  We headed around Coot Lake.

The wind died down a little here and I got a boost in my energy.  Dave and I did a few pick-ups and ended up ahead of the group where we had a lovely conversation.  As we headed over the dam we both became acutely aware that the wind was gone.  A very mild breeze was blowing.  Dave, being the perfect host, ran backwards for a few paces while he told them how lucky we were to dodge the dam wind-bullet today.  I’ve had my hat blow off more times than I can count on this dam.  Dam wind.

He had his eye on a port-potty near the boat storage, and led us into our next pit-stop.  I took the opportunity to pull out my camera.  Jen noticed a guy working close by and jogged over to ask if he would take a group picture.

Boulderpalooza running gang: Rick, Karen, AJ, Jon, Dave, Jen and Lara (me)

In return, I took Sam’s picture.  Thanks Sam!

Sam the awesome Dam-guy!

We finished our Rez loop and ended up back at the Eagle Trailhead.  I put my pants back on and left them on for the remainder of the run.  It just wasn’t getting any warmer, and the fabric added warmth to my muscles.

On the Eagle Trail we meandered along the single track.  Jon and Dave joked about the “chicking” that Dave received on a recent run, and I knew that the challenge was on.  These guys were going to get chicked by us not once, but many times.

“Come on,” I said as I touched Jen and Karen lightly on the arm, “let’s go.”  They picked up the pace and we blasted past the guys.

“Oh, we just got chicked!” they laughed.

A few minutes later my shoelace came untied.  I pulled over to tie it and Jon said “You just got duded!”  as he and the rest of the group ran by.  Yup.

So naturally I picked up the pace and called “Make a hole!” as I blew by them all to the front of the pack again.

The friendly ribbing was one of the highlights of the run.  Another highlight was the scenery at the top of Eagle Trail.  I pulled over, reached for my camera and snapped a picture.

Rick likes to watch work happen, so here he is watching Karen and AJ work their way up the trail.

Our run-host, Dave. Come on, Dave, you can do it!

A close-up of Serious Dave, modeling his DM shirt.

Dave and I made up the caboose and finished the climb.  At the top we found Jon and Jen doing laps on the dirt trail as part of their add-on.

Things get fuzzy for me at this point.  I was in new territory and simply enjoying the run, so mostly I stopped paying a lot of attention to our location.  At this time of year a lot of North Boulder trails end up looking similar; dry, dead grass, packed, dry dirt… who can really say where one ends and the next picks up?

We crossed over Highway 36 and entered a very colorful, very modern subdivision.  Dave gave us directions to do another small add-on, then quickly broke left and took the shortcut to the park.  He’s been recovering from the stomach flu and then a cold that attacked a few weeks later, and had to dig pretty deep on this run.

At the park I stood with him as we watched the group add on yet again.  We cheered and told them to run faster, especially that slow-poke, Jon.

 

 

From here it was an easy 5k back to Dave’s house; one hill and the rest would be downhill, with the last mile being the fastest mile.  Dave and I started out slowly and let the others catch us, then pass.  Jon and Jen picked up the front, AJ and Dave were in the middle, and Rick was in front of Karen and me.

Karen and I chatted easily together, getting to know each other a bit more.  I was telling her about my love-affair with trail running; “I like the uphills just fine, but the downhills are the best.  The more technical they are, the better.  You have to be fully present when you run downhills, but you can’t over-think your footing otherwise you’ll bite it in two seconds.”

At that moment we crested the hill and saw nirvana… a full quarter mile of sweet downhill, hairpinning its way down to Wonderland Lake.  Karen laughed and let me go as I opened up and flew down the hill.  It was wonderful; the only thing that would have made it better would have been if it were pocked with rocks.

At the bottom I reined it in until Karen rejoined me, then we exited the trail system and entered the residential area.  At that moment we both slowed and looked around.  Where had everyone gone?

The road curved sharply to the left and right, and there was a small footpath directly ahead of us that disappeared from view less than 50 yards away.  After a brief discussion we decided to head down the street; Karen thought she had seen a movement out of the corner of her eye as we came off the trail, and this seemed like the most likely direction.

A minute later Dave came huffing around the bend.  He had noticed that we weren’t right behind Rick and came back to sweep the trail for us.

The three of us ran easily down the last street and spotted Jon’s bright green jacket on the left side of the road with a small person.  Dave smiled big; his son was out cheering on the runners, waiting for Dad to come home.

Dave took a final picture of the group; he said we looked like gangsters from a Quentin Tarentino movie with how we were spaced around the yard.  Thus, we became cast members in a movie called “Reservoir Jogs”.

Jen, Jon, AJ, Rick, Karen and Lara (me), straight from the movie "Reservoir Jogs".

Dave drove Karen, AJ and me back to the trailhead to get our cars.  Next time we get together, it’ll be in South Denver at the stomping grounds in Castle Rock.

It was fabulous to get to meet and run with other local runners!  There was a lot of ribbing, a lot of laughter, and it was a great way to tick off the miles as spring training ramps up.  Thanks gang!

 

Mid-Afternoon Wednesday Run

It’s Wednesday, and for the second week in a row I ran in the middle of the afternoon.  I doubt this will be a trend, much as I’d like to think so; this was more a by-product of a few synchronous glitches in the week’s schedule.

Regardless, I did it.  For the second consecutive Wednesday I ran in shorts and a t-shirt.  Again, the wind was blowing.  Again, my hat blew off.  C’est la vie.

As I walked through the grass I noticed a few green blades of grass creeping through the dead stuff.  And because my ears weren’t plugged with earphones, I heard a village of birds sorting out a few complaints high in a cottonwood along the greenbelt.

My foot has felt great this past week, and (knock on wood) I think the Plantar Fasciitis is about gone.  I tested this theory by wearing the Scott minimalist shoes I bought at the Expo in Sacramento back in December.

For today’s run I headed to my safe haven; Davidson Mesa.  The Mesa and I are intimate friends, but I haven’t gone visiting in over a month.  This run was long past due.

The snow has all melted, the ground is bare.  Buds haven’t pushed out from the naked branches yet, though it feels like it’s only a matter of days.  The geese are out in force, though strangely enough, were completely calm as I ran through their midst.  Not a single one looked up to acknowledge my intrusion.

My heart rate climbed to runner’s pace within a few seconds of moving before leveling out. Whenever I head to the Mesa I get a good warm-up because I travel uphill for 2-3 miles, depending on the route.  Today was a 2-mile warm-up; I felt slow and contemplative, not fast and frenzied.

There are several ways of working the three-mile Davidson Mesa loop into my run, and today I chose the shortest distance.  Seven miles was the farthest I wanted to go.  This was to be a relaxed, enjoyable visit, nothing else.

As I coasted across McCaslin into the parking lot the wind gusted and made my hat bob a little.  I pulled the brim lower on my forehead and tucked my chin.  The hat is mine, Mr. Wind, you can’t have it!

The die was cast.  I headed west on the northern-most path, parallel to the dog park.  From time to time a gust blew from the south across my left shoulder, but it was no match for this 120-pound brute.  Even though the sun shone and not a cloud dotted the sky, my skin felt cold.

I got to my favorite part of the run, where the footing becomes slightly more technical and I have to pay attention to each foot strike.  I’m missing the mountain trails something fierce right now, but this was as close as I could get today.  My heart raced at the thought of flying down Bluestem but I quickly shut it out of my mind.  Don’t get out of your head.  Stay right here and plant each foot.  Can’t risk a turned foot, not now, not after coming back from injury.

Back on the main trail that looks like a well-maintained one-lane dirt road, I settled into my pace again.  Every once in a while I looked up from the ground in front of me, but then the wind would get its long skinny fingers on the brim of my hat and give it a tug.  Eyes on the trail, lost in thought, the miles ticked by.

On the most westerly side of the Mesa I swear there’s an energy vortex.  The trail turns south and there’s a slight incline. A prairie dog village lies to the east of the trail and is usually a hub of activity, but it was strangely silent today.  As I entered the energy vortex my emotions started swirling around and there was a complete release as my legs churned their metronomic rhythm.

By the time the trail hairpinned west and then cut directly east, the swirl of energy had dissipated.  I was free again.  The trail dipped and turned and I ran and moved and interspersed intervals into my joyous appreciation of the moment.

The sun now shone behind me and my shadow stretched out ahead.  My shadow-arms swung and my rib cage expanded and contracted.  Twice I inhaled big breaths and let them out to see the rise and fall of my shoulders.  With my ponytail sticking out of the hole in the back of my hat, my shadow-neck looked long and lean as it flowed along the ground in front of me.

Mr. Wind assaulted me from the front, snaked his long fingers onto my hat and caught it, flipping the hat effortlessly from my head.  It toppled backwards and slipped down my ponytail.  Backtracking, I picked it up and secured it onto my head again while wishing for a dab of superglue to hold it in place.

Two ladies and their furry companions came into sight.  They saw me and looked surprised.  I knew immediately what they were thinking; they were dressed in pants, coats and winter hats… what’s this fool of a girl doing in a t-shirt and shorts?

Yeah, well… I got nothin’ but hope.  Hope for warm weather, hope for the kiss of the sun on my bare arms, hope for a breath of spring’s promise.

At the parking lot I looked both ways and gauged my chances of beating the on-coming cars; I sprinted across two lanes and coasted to the other side.  Ah, that felt GOOD.

The last two miles home were an easy downhill.  I gave myself a few pick-ups to test the hamstring, and daydreamed about doing speed work and track workouts.

I needed this today.  I needed to get outside and breathe the fresh air, feel my heart pound sure and strong inside my chest, and feel the possibility that Spring holds.

Pre-Race Joe

I talked with Joe Marruchella via Skype on Thursday, just three days before his Austin Marathon race on February 20.  Joe has set some incredibly ambitious goals for this race, and we settled in to chat about his goals, training, race plans, and where his brain is at before the big race.

This is a guy that blogs regularly, ran two marathons within thirteen days of each other to raise money for his friend Dom’s cancer treatment last year, and is writing training plans for getting new dad’s off the couch and toeing the line for a 5k. Joe is a new dad himself; Landry was born just two weeks after Dom lost his valiant battle with cancer and left behind a 3-year-old daughter and 1-year-old son.

Joe and I have built a solid friendship over the past 18 months, and have shared stories about running as well as commiserated when things got hard in our personal lives.  We communicate through our blogs, on DailyMile.com and email, and sometimes via telephone.  I’ve never met him face to face or run a trail with him… yet.

Through all these forms of communication, the one piece that I didn’t have was talking with the guy face to face.  There are so many nuances of expression that you miss when you’re on the phone, and so many opportunities are lost when you write back and forth.  I was tickled to try out Skype, even though I knew I was losing the chance to have a written transcript of our conversation.  The trade-off was one I was willing to take.

We sat in front of our computers and saw each other’s faces for two hours.  Joe did a lot of the talking, and I got to witness the wacky spiral of runner-energy that builds like a storm cloud before it finally lets loose.  He was stuck in a chair in front of his computer for the conversation, but if I could have seen it his brain was spiraling like a tornado with the built-up of taper.  His speech was fast, his mind was racing a mile a minute, and the most interesting thing was how he tangented into various topics that were seemingly several degrees removed, but then connected all the dots and circled back to his original point.  After a while I felt like a piece of driftwood being buffeted through the hurricane surf; I could swim in this ocean, but fighting it was futile.

This is the first marathon Joe has raced since spring of 2010, when he ran Boston and then Pittsburgh thirteen days apart.  He had a fundraising goal of $26,200 to help Dom’s family pay for his medical bills, knowing that the money would be a drop in the bucket compared to what the real expenses were.  The races he wanted to run and the money he raised were dedicated to the spirit of Dom; Joe raced because he had strength and health, and he dedicated those miles to his dear friend who was losing the good fight for life on this earth.

During 2010, there were a lot of changes and loss in Joe’s life.  He lost two people that were important to him and became a dad for the first time.  Because he’s an athlete, he instinctively channeled that energy, that frustration, loneliness, confusion and grief into his running.  Running was absolutely cathartic for him, and he raced his demons into the ground.  Joe ran a total of seventeen races in 2010, and PR’d in every one.  He focused his mind on his training.  When things got hard, he pushed that energy into hill repeats and built strength and stamina.  When he wasn’t sure where to turn or how to cope with the loss he was feeling, he laced up his shoes and ran until the world stopped hurting.  And he got faster.

Midway through the year he came across the Austin Distance Challenge, a series of five races of varying distances that culminated with the Austin Marathon in February.  Because he was already signed up for the marathon, it was easy to retroactively register for the other four races.  As part of his base training, he challenged himself on 10-mile races that incorporated hills, a 10k race that he crushed with his speed, and a half marathon that proved that a sub 3:00 marathon time was possible.

Joe posts his workouts on DailyMile.com, a social networking website that connects athletes around the world.  Through DailyMile he’s become an icon of sorts.  He’s the guy that always has something positive to say, even when he’s not feeling fabulous.  He cheers on his fellow athletes and celebrates their personal accomplishments.  Through DailyMile, other athletes have had a chance to learn about Joe’s innate athletic ability that has yet to find its peak.  He’s still heading up to the apex of his ability, and the DailyMle community is cheering him on.

Because this is Joe and not someone who craves attention on a personal level, he feels a responsibility to the DailyMile community and the running community he’s associated with in Austin.  He’s mentored enough people that they feel they have a stake in his race, and in return Joe wants to do his absolute best to show people that when you believe in yourself, when you dig deep and set hard goals, you fail only if you fail to try.

Because Joe wants to try for that sub 3:00 time, he’s been looking at the weather forecast and willing the weather gods to cooperate.  Unfortunately, it looks like a beautiful day to be living in Austin; 63 degrees at 7 AM and 75 degrees by noon with a humidity level of 96% at gun time.  The spectators are going to be standing in the sunshine wearing hats and sunscreen, while the athletes will be fighting for breath through the wall of water sitting in the air, trying desperately to stay hydrated and have enough juice for the “race” that starts at mile 20.

Joe got good news at the Expo yesterday; a friend of his will be leading the 3:00 pace pack.  Scott’s plan is to hold steady throughout the miles.  Joe is hoping to dial in a 6:52 pace, but acknowledges that if his breathing is labored in the humid air, he might have to back off and feel his way to a 7:02 or even a 7:12 pace.  All of these are contingency plans.  Every scenario has been discussed and worked over, save for those random moments that are totally out of anyone’s control, like slipping in a water station or dropping a gel pack.

While we were talking Joe was working his way around the idea that running is ultimately a selfish sport.  Getting up early, buying gear, tracking miles and assaulting loved ones with nervous race energy… is it worth it? How you deal with it is the ultimate key to success.   As a new dad, Joe’s wife and baby actually benefit by him having an outlet that isn’t related to anything the family is doing after 7 AM.  He expends his energy and is ready to connect and hang around the house blowing raspberries on tender baby tummies and sit in awe as she learns to sit up.  By going out and running as hard and fast as he can when he’s feeling like a volcano that’s about to explode, he moves that energy away from his family and acknowledges it in a safe, controlled and non-destructive way.  At the end of the run he’s excited to go inside and sit down to a hot breakfast with his family. That’s the epitome of time well spent.

And because we started talking about balance in his personal life, we talked about cross-training.  Joe currently runs five days a week.  If he tries to run six or seven days a week he risks injury.  He talked about runners who try for “100 consecutive day challenges” or the guy who’s running a marathon distance every day for a year, just to see if he can.  Joe shook his head at this.  “You gotta cross-train if you want to avoid injury,” he said.  “Runners forget that they can’t just run day after day and get away with that as a lifestyle.  Cross-training is key.”

When Joe had shin splint issues 18 months ago be started cycling.  Riding his tri-bike on the trainer has increased the muscle strength in his legs, muscles that get neglected by continual lateral movement.  He feels stronger because he strength trains and cycles, and talked about his next goal; learning how to swim.

After the race, Joe is looking forward to improving his swim stroke.  He wants to improve from “controlled drowning” to “incredibly competent”, and has thoughts of doing a triathlon at some point.

The past twelve months have been dedicated to Dom, Dom’s memory, and raising money.  This will be the last race that is an official fundraiser.  At Pittsburgh last year, Dom told Joe to run the next marathon just for himself.  And now, ten months later, that’s what Joe’s planning on doing.  Each step, each labored breath, each mile that slips by as he races toward the finish line and the waiting arms of his wife and baby daughter, he’ll be racing his hardest with every ounce of speed strength and stamina he’s gained from training and racing in seventeen races this past year, racing this time for himself alone.

Next week I’ll do a follow-up with Joe, to see how things went and re-hash the race.  After that, he’ll do his next run on Friday when he runs in the Ragnar Relay.  The part he’s most looking forward to is the leg of the race that begins at 1AM.  It’ll be just him, running in the dark without a watch, without worrying about pace or splits.  It’ll be the time that he reconnects with his absolute love of running, even though his legs will still be trashed and his body will still be recovering.

Run Joe, run.  Race fast.  No matter what happens, no matter what time you have at mile 13.1, you’ve trained and raced harder and faster than you’ve ever gone before.  THAT’S the reason people look up to you Joe.  You don’t hold back and you give it everything you’ve got.  You’re all in, Joe.  Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose.