This is My Dirt

This post is part of the Trail Runner Blog Symposium for September 2013:

This is 'my' dirt

As I head out the door and quickly run towards my favorite trail just above my house, I get a bit irritated as I pass a handful of other runners running down 'my' dirt.  I mean for the sake of God, I was the one who dared to run past this 'scary' house, up the dirt road that connects to the trails above for the last 7 years.  I was the only one who would use this dirt, I was all by myself and I loved every step.

I was the one who neighbors watched as I headed up the trail, with my dog in tow.  It was me who would day in, amongst changing seasons, in snow, rain, and heat that would regularly claim this dirt.  I was the expert to other runners when they asked what is the quickest way to connect to the trails. I would only spill the 'secret' after multiple times of them asking.

Now, I find you stomping on my dirt, using my 'hidden' connection, and getting in the way of my running meditation.

Now mind you, I love being adventurous and finding little bits of dirt that no one else has found (or at least I think this in my mind).  The exploration of the foothills and connecting trails, are part of the fun, the draw and enticement of trail running.  In the past, there was only a handful of moments where I would pass another human on this trail to sanity and bliss - and I loved every step of that solitude.

A hypocrite, I am.  I  love it when other trail runners divulge their secret path and tell me about a cool new trail that will connect to 'my' trail.  I love being able to use this new information and explore, hoping that I'm the only one playing there.

Now this is bliss -
alone in 'my' stomping ground

As trail running and ultras become more main stream, I'm finding my running bliss less and less.  My escape from civilization is being crashed by others who too want an escape from reality.  My inner peace waivers with the increase of people running along 'my' trails.  I'm feeling this strange need to flee farther and higher up the mountain trail. What use to be a quick 40 minute jaunt up the trails to refresh my over stimulated cranium is now needing longer time and higher distances. Soon I'll be needing the join the Sky Marathons in order to escape from reality and find my inner peace.

For now, remember this is 'my' dirt, and I have a hard time sharing it.

Re-claiming 'my' dirt -
even whilst recovering from a broken metatarsal,
cause this is 'my' dirt 

Feeding the Mass's Curiosity and Perplexion of Ultras

This post is part of Trail Runner's Blog Symposium which questions if there is too much of a media emphasis on Ultra trail running.

So, I've had some time to think about what it really means to have too much media emphasis on ultra distances.  Part of my mind was against it, the other part was for it.  This battle of the perceived good vs. evil has been continually raging in mind, even in times when I really didn't want to be thinking about running, which wasn't too often.  

After several weeks of mind wrestling, here's the side that 'won':

This is freakin GREAT!  I mean here I am a runner who loves to run trails.  In the past I would be out running in the foothills of the Northern Wasatch Mountains and view the looming mountain tops above me and wonder if there was a way for me to run peak to peak?  I would wounder if there were people who did this, and how could I become a part of that? 

Twenty years ago, I had a co-worker who talked about running a 5o miler and running the Grand Canyon's rim-to-rim trail.  I was mesmerized, interested, and someday thought I'd like to do something crazy like that.  

Then ten years ago, I started really getting into long distance running.  Of course the media shined on road races, so that was the shining star I chased.  According to the media, the marathon was the 'ultimate' high one could possibly ever reach in running.  So I followed that mecca of road running, and completed a couple of marathons.  Yes it was great, but I wanted more.  I wanted to see what my body was capable of and I wanted off the roads and in the mountains, however I didn't know what was available out there.

Slowly, ever so slowly the media started to tap into trail running life and the individuals who challenge themselves beyond human understanding.  That mass amusement, perplexion, and confusion as to why someone would run 100 miles in the heat, across the mountain peaks, alone, and at night started to catch on.  People wanted to know more, see more, find out more.  As the masses began to get their whistles wet with various small interviews, roadless terrain, and pictures of 100 mile winners - they wanted to more.  

Soon ultra icons started to receive sponsors, races started to receive an increase in cash prizes, therefore increasing the amount of advertisement.  This advertisement helped soothe the increasing interest among the growing masses on the life of an ultra runner, their performance, and races they run.  This increase in advertising was just like the perfect run, always leaving you wanting more, and luckily for me those sponsors spoon fed the masses like me with more information.

Through this increase in media awareness, I have been able to connect into the ultra distance world of trail running.  I found that there were races just above me that have been going on for years!  These weren't figments of imaginations, they were real, and they were being ran on the peaks above me.  

This increase in ultra distances helped me realize that I needed to learn to be a more proficient runner.  For example, last year I realized that, I needed to fix my gait and learn to run like a native.  My first gait change I worked on for 6 months!  I took 6 months changing from the road running 'heel strike' to the native 'mid-foot' strike.  After 'perfecting' this mid-foot strike, I decided that I needed to follow through with this gait change.  I went to a professional and had them analyze my gait.  They found I had some hip and ankle weaknesses that over long distances would increase my possibility of injury.  I received exercises to strengthen these weaknesses and also found the optimal  foot turn over tempo for my body.  

So, no I don't think that there is too much emphasis on ultra distances, because through this increase  I have been able to locate the Wasatch 100, fix my gait with the help of Mountain Land Rehab, and become a better runner. Go ahead and keep on sponsoring the ultra gods, because I have peaks I want to run up and over.

Jane? Who? Me? Runner?

So today's form of athletic 'inspiration' came from Active.com's facebook page: "You must begin to think of yourself as ... the person you want to be." - David Viscott.

I read this as on a December day that feels more like March.  Yet, unlike March, there's no wind to bring down the temp.  The sun is hidden behind a cooling veil of clouds, which helps keep the temperature a perfect running 49 degrees.  Mother Nature has lined up everything for the perfect running day. 

I walked outside to get the mail, mentally tallying everything that will make today the best day back to running (after some healing time for a tendon flair).  While I walk out to the mailbox, my zealous mind has already created the perfect run: I've already ran 6 miles along a tree lined single track trail.  My dogs following.  I could feel their fur rub against my calf, their tongues lopping to the side, their eyes focused ahead anticipating the next turn of the trail.  It was perfect!  As I walk back from the mailbox, I had convinced myself that this mental trail run surely did happen.  I was so close, close to the elusive "Runner's High". 

Oh, that Runner's High is magnificent! I turn into Super Woman.  I become everything my mind says I am.  I'm invincible, I can leap over buildings (or logs) in a single bound, I run faster then Paula Radcliffe, (a 2:15 marathoner).  No mountain can make me huff as I run up it.   The runner's high is like the musician Muse; elusive, coming and going, just out of reach, sometimes allowing me to catch it - just for a moment - never staying long enough. 

I leap up the front steps, still grasping for the coat tails of Jane (that's what I'll call her - Jane, my Runner's High).  When suddenly I feel the churning reminder of an ankle not yet ready for running.  I stop at the top of the stairs (which is only 3 steps), and watch Jane - as she keeps running, taunting me, haunting me until the day I can catch her.

So here I sit, waiting for Pilate's to start, mourning the loss of my perfect December run and my elusive Jane.  Wondering if this still makes me a runner?    

My ankle had been feeling great, or so I thought...