Showing posts from 2017

Resurrection Run

So-I got hurt a few months ago.  Hurt enough that I had to drastically change my running.  Hurt enough that I was referred to an orthopedic surgeon.  Hurt enough that I DNS'ed a race I really wanted to do.  Hurt enough that for the first time in a long time, I couldn't run through it.

I tried not to talk about it.  I forced myself not to limp.  I took A LOT of pain pills.   I iced and iced some more.   I researched.  I foam rolled.  I changed my stride.  I changed my pace.   I modified my training.   I cross-trained.  I started the certification process in something else, in case my running days were behind me.  

When I was getting an x-ray, the tech asked me, "So, what are you going to do when he tells you that you can't run anymore?'

My first thought was, "something else".  Very quickly,  my mind flooded with hiking and biking and kayaking and yoga and skiing and etc., etc. etc.  I decided, then and there, I would focus on what I COULD do, vs. what my …

Sometimes, the Race is a Suckfest: Rock and Roll Marathon, Washington DC

Sometimes, you start in an elite corral, after representing your shoe company.   

Sometimes, you start off strong, and something keeps you from doing what you love.

Sometimes, you get passed by pace bunny, after pace bunny.

Sometimes, you use all of your tricks, but none of them work.

Sometimes, you spend 20+ miles, trying to work through the pain.

Sometimes, you just want to stop, but know you'll feel worse if you do.

Sometimes, things go bad in front of A LOT of spectators.

Sometimes, spectators say exactly the wrong thing.

Sometimes, you just have to grit your teeth, and push.

Sometimes, you have to accept that finishing is winning.

Sometimes, you have to step back, so you can move forward.

Sometimes, you have to look for what the experience is teaching you.
Sometimes, it’s okay for it to suck.

Thank Heaven for Wet Rats

“Like a wet rat”.   That’s the part of the story that he stressed.  “Like a wet rat, that’s what she looked like when I pulled her out of the water.  I didn’t even see her fall it, I just saw her under the surface, and when I pulled her out, she looked like a wet rat”.  

It was years later, sitting on his swing, that he told me the rest of the story of when I was a toddler and had fallen off a dock full of people, into our lake, unnoticed.  “No one has ever scared me as much as you did that day.  I kept you close to me, from then on.”

He taught me.  I can stack wood like a pro.  It was a weekly chore for my brother Rick and I (Mark used to go hide in the basement---rotten kid).  When I was older, I learned to split the wood, with both an ax and a long splitter.   Earning the right to use the chainsaw was a badge of honor.  I can distinctly picture his face, when he finally let me use it.

I can change the oil in my car and properly hammer a nail, all because of him.  My dad built our hou…

Spousal Support: A few words from guest blogger Mark Basehart

Each one is different and yet the same--no matter how frequent or infrequent the “get-aways.”Her last thought before she starts a race is “why am I doing this?” (It always starts with why to power up her happy). Her first thought after finishing a race is “When can I do it again?”(A restless soul searching for essentialism—the disciplined pursuit of less by doing more). When she tightens her ponytail or puts on her running hat, you know it’s about to go down. She needs her alone time and space. She runs epically, reaching, owning it.Afterwards, I feel the need to send condolences for the loss of her toenails.
These people—you, who call yourselves ultra-runners—are simultaneously blessed and cursed.You understand what it is to embrace, live and manifest the YOLO mentality of the 21st century—it is what we ALL crave—to “regret proof ” this life—at one level or another, through the pursuit of our passions of choice. You have found a tribe of like- minded individuals who “get” you and th…

Dear Mother Nature

Dear Mother Nature,

I'm done apologizing to you.  I have tried to make amends and to appease your whims.  But, enough is enough.

You've thrown wind, rain, hail, ice, mud, blizzards, humidity, blistering temps, and more at me.  I've taken it all.

Sometimes, it has defeated me, and I've had to seek shelter.   Those times hurt the most.  Other times, I've found a way to persevere and push on.  All while you feign innocence by surrounding the days preceding and following my races with fair temps and boring forecasts.  You seem to relish in hurting me.

No more.

I am hear to fight.

Yeah, yeah, I know this will annoy you, and I'll have to bear the repercussions.   I've already seen the forecast for this weekend:  up to 10 inches of snow, accumulating ice, and wind gusts up to 35 mph.

You're getting predictable.

You see, I'm on a quest for my final Beast Double Buckle, and I'm not letting you get in my way of getting that job done.

So, go ahead, Mother…

Rest: Phunt 50K

“I need to process this.”That’s my standard line, when I don’t want to respond emotionally.When, I’m tired.
This past week, the alarm would go off, and rather than play that snooze-alarm math, that both lets me sleep until the last possible moment, AND get ready without looking like my morning is happening at light speed, I simply rolled over.I overslept for work THREE times this past week. This is NOT like me.
I inherited my disposition to keep busy from my mom.“NEVER sit before noon” is her mantra.Even at 82.Even when her daughter tells her to wait for her to arrange plowing vs. shoveling her monster driveway.“I’ll rest after, Eva” she says.“It’s better that way”.
If you cared to look, on any given day, you would see two emails that I send to myself every morning.One is a very specific daily delineation of what I want to accomplish and the other is my weekly “Tetris” chart.The latter, though less detailed, contains enough info that I can keep multiple plates spinning at the same time. …