No Crutches

It’s official; I’m registered for the Rock n Roll Las Vegas Half-Marathon on December 6.  I’m so excited, and a lot of it is because I actually get to go somewhere!!  Registering for a race is a sure-fire way of taking a trip, even if the trip is for an extended weekend.  Bill and I are going there BY OURSELVES, sans kids, and I’m going to run a race in a place I’ve never been before.  I can’t think of a better mini-vacation, honestly.

Because the race is (now) less than three weeks out, I’m focusing on tempo runs and speed work.  I’m not worried about the distance; I can do 13.1 miles any day.  A few days ago, Kathy chose Bobolink Trail in east Boulder county for our Saturday run because of the forecasted snow; if we got a lot, Bobolink is relatively flat and a few miles from the Foothills, where snow means breaking trail and running on icy hills.  Bobolink is a better bet when you don’t know if there will be snow.

And, there wasn’t.  The snow held off until Saturday afternoon, giving us an overcast, cool morning.  I wore running tights and a pullover, as well as my SmartWool glove liners (I’ve mentioned my love affair with these beauties in pervious posts) and a new Nike skullcap that has a pony tail hole in the back.  Heidi, our “weather barometer”, arrived in shorts and a long sleeve tech shirt with her Nike skullcap (in a different color) and gloves.  If Heidi is in shorts, that means the temp is 40 degrees or above.

Heidi and I took off at the front of the group and stayed there.  She’s feeling mostly recovered from the Kona Ironman race in October and is finally ready for a little more speed work.  We chatted easily through the miles, and she was game for extending at the back end.  Bobolink is an out-and-back, so we went to the end of the trail (3.36 miles) and back to the parking lot (3.36 miles) and then headed out again, stopping at the underpass of South Boulder Road (1.25 miles) and turning around (1.25 miles).

On the third leg of our journey we started talking about iPods and music.  I asked if she listens to an iPod when she runs (answer: sometimes, and with only one earbud) and what she listens to (answer:  Coldplay, Natalie Merchant and 10,000 Maniacs).  I told her what my latest faves are (Michael Jackson’s “Will You Be There”, Tab Benoit (Louisiana Cajun/Blues), Barenaked Ladies “If I Had a Million Dollars“, Cake, Cracker).  Glancing at my Garmin, I noticed we had mysteriously picked up pace while we were talking about music, and were now at a 7:30 pace instead of the 8:00/miles we had been holding for the first hour.  Heidi mentioned the marathon runner who was DQ’d at the Lakefront Marathon in October because she used an iPod between miles 19-21, some of the hardest miles in a marathon.  It’s illegal for elites to use iPods because of the “energy boost” you get when with music, so she was stripped of her winning title after some pictures of her with the iPod surfaced on the Internet.

Conversation ensued about the idea of finding your own mental reserves, and how racing pushes people to get away from the crutch of outside stimulation (an iPod, a training partner) and find personal inner strength.  Heidi has a lot to say on this topic, as she just went through ten months of training; first for Oceanside, where she qualified for Kona, and then training for Kona.  Sometimes she trained with people, going on runs or riding with someone.  Sometimes she trained solo.  Having a training partner broke up the monotony of seven hour rides, but it didn’t train her for being on the race course without a buddy.  So, she made an effort to fit in training runs and rides where she went out solo, thus preparing herself to get through the hard patches by dipping into her inner strength.

Mark Allen and Brant Secunda discuss this concept in their book “Fit Soul, Fit Body”.  Athletes (elite, average, and everyone in between) must train their brains and souls for the work that is required over the long haul.  This training spills into everyday life, where a person will inevitably come upon a situation where inner fortitude is the only thing there is to rely upon.  Us average folk look at elite athletes like Josh Cox or Lance Armstrong and sometimes wonder where they get their perseverance, tenacity, and drive, while also being flexible in the face of unforeseen circumstances that are out of their control.  Those qualities are attainable by every person, should they choose to give up the crutches that keep them stuck in second gear.

Athletes train hard, season after season.  Workouts are logged, miles are covered, sweat is shed.  The mind needs to be exercised and trained at the same time.  When one is comfortable with their own mind and solitude, the deepest reserves of inner strength are available to draw from during any time of need.

During the two weeks of ramped up tempo runs and speed work as I get ready for the Las Vegas Half Marathon, I’m going to spend equal time training my mind to plumb the depths of my inner strength and working on my physical capabilities.  This “inner training” will last eons after my muscles recover from any speed workout I do.

How about YOU??  How do you train your mind and soul for hard workouts, races, and the curves that life throws at you?  Does your athleticism distract you from digging deeper, or complement your efforts?

Sunday Morning Church of the Long Run

 

Church is in the eyes of the beholder.  Or ears, for that matter.

 While listening to my iPod and running on this beautiful August Sunday morning, Michael Jackson’s “Will You Be There” single lifted me up and hit that sweet spot where you know you’ve been witness to the divine.  Let me explain.

For the first time in weeks, I woke with energy and an eagerness for a run around the town.

My iPod was clipped to my shorts and set on random.  There’s a new set of music loaded on the device and I’m still getting used to some of the songs.  It’s been a nice change from the favorites that have become over-played the past several months.

There’s always a sense of anticipation before a run because my eternal hope is that between the beginning and end of the run, something will assail my senses, permeate my brain and convince me there’s more to being human than the mundane repetition of my life.  Sometimes that “something” is emotional; I’ll run with someone and find that perfect connection where we’re exactly in tune with each other.  Sometimes that “something” is physical; the repetitive movements of running will have allowed me to release some stress and I’ll find solace in the strength of my body.  Sometimes it’s visual; I’ll look up and find that I’m bearing witness to a tiny miracle of this earth, and I’ll feel blessed that I was there at the right place and time to see it.  And sometimes, that “something” is auditory. 

I had been running for forty five minutes already.  There were so many people out on the trails enjoying the beautiful morning; solo runners, pairs of walkers, people with their dogs.  A little boy on the Coal Creek Trail was followed by his mother and dog as they casually rode along the gravel. 

Pounding over the shady Coal Creek Trail, I was surprised when the strains of this particular song began.  Quiet, melodic piano chords wisped through my ear-buds for a few measures, then the orchestra joined in and Michael Jackson’s high tenor touched my soul.

“Hold me
Like the river Jordan
And I will then say to Thee
You are my friend

Carry me
Like you are my brother
Love me like a mother
Would you be there…”

The first two verses were quiet and meditative as I crossed over Bella Vista Avenue and made my way around Community Park.  Suddenly, the next stanza started and I got chills.

“Weary
Tell me will you hold me
When wrong, will you scold me
When lost will you find me?

But they told me
A man should be faithful
And walk when not able
And fight till the end
But I’m only human…”

My legs picked up speed and my cadence matched the rhythm of the music.  Yes, he’s only human.  I’m only human too.  What does being human mean? 

“Everyone’s taking control of me
Seems that the world’s
Got a role for me
I’m so confused
Will you show to me
You’ll be there for me
And care enough to bear me…”

The music began to crescendo and Michael’s voice became increasingly passionate.  I shivered again and felt the power of his longing, his never-ending quest to find the higher power that would elevate him, allowing him to revel in his mortality instead of humbly accepting that he can’t be better because “I’m only human”.

There’s a strong parallel between Michael Jackson’s search for a higher power in his tabloid life, and publicly singing about wanting to connect with a being that will help lift him up and be a better person. I was transported into a spiritual place where I made that intimate connection to the highest power, that innate wisdom that allows the pulsing energy of earth, our humanness, and whatever greater consciousness there is, into my own life.

I hit “repeat” on my iPod each time the song ended and listened to it three times through.  Each time, the swell of the music and the passion in Michael’s voice gave me chills.  I waited with excited anticipation for the gospel choir and joined in to the chorus, adding my voice and singing for all I was worth to God.

Sometimes “church” is a place to go.  Sometimes it’s a message that is delivered, or received.  Today, for me, “church” was being outside in nature, moving my body, and listening to the gospel choir in Michael Jackson’s song about finding God, or a friend, to be there with him on his journey through life.  It’s a universal message and one worthy of church on a Sunday morning.