Running 2018

So, today I ran what may be my last run of the year.  6.7 miles is a very common distance for me.  Once a week or more (on average), I meet up with my friend of many years, Lauren, and usually at least once a week we will run a 6.7 mile loop that begins and ends at her home.  I usually run it faster than an hour.  Today, it took well over an hour.  but it involved a 500 foot altitude climb in a little less than a mile.

Why did I do that run?  I did it because this is the fourth or fifth year in a row that I have reached the overlook point at the summit of Massanutten. I enjoy doing it at least once a year on vacation.  I am not sure how many more years I will be able to do it at a run.  But it is a measure of my ability to still run hills--big hills.

I remember what may have been the first time I did it--I was training for the Comrades (ultra)Marathon.  That is a 56 mile run in South Africa with some wicked hills.  It was months in advance but a good indicator of things to come.

In the years since Christmas 2015, I have continued to do it.  Each year before this year, I was worried about my time.  This year, from the time I turned the corner past the last condominium development on the mountain till I reached the top (about 0.9 miles), I didn't look at my watch at all.  I just enjoyed going up and up and up.  Being sure to put one foot in front of the other.  Working very hard.  Meeting the continued up with energy I had.  Not worried about my time.  Just focused on keeping up the run to the top.

When I reached the summit, I stopped to take a few photos before coming down.  The down was also slow given how steep it was and a desire to be careful.

This is a good way to close my running year.  I ran 2122.2 miles.  This is the fourth calendar year in which I have exceeded 2000 miles (2014, 2016, and 2017 were the three earlier years.)  Never one to "just get something done," the least miles I'd run before when exceeding 2000, was 2222.2.  So, this year I have run 100 miles less, but still substantially over 2000 miles.

The fact that I just ran and did not worry about time was symbolic of my entire year.  I ran most of my miles with others this year.  We almost always had a route planned, a distance planned, or a time planned (or all three).  But with a small number of exceptions, we just ran.  Lots of conversation.  Lots of friendship.  Just taking it all in.

A year with "no particular place to go" in terms of my running.  And sometimes, having "no particular place to go" is a good thing.

It means I can really be present.  I'm not looking ahead as I'm not "headed" someplace.

It means I can enjoy because I am appreciating what I have and not planning ahead.

It means I can take it all in.

It is not a bad way to approach life.  Of course, there are times when I have goals.  There are times when I plan ahead.  There are times when I have goals.  Those aren't bad.  But they can draw the focus away from the present.  This has been a year of simply being present in my running.

It made me think of some lines from the Christopher Robin movie of 2018.

One quote, "Your life is happening right now in front of you."  Definitely a good thought for this morning and for running and life in general.

Another quote, "Sometimes, when I'm going somewhere, I wait.  And then somewhere comes to me."  Clearly, I am always coming to things when I am running.  But this has been a year of a lot of "waiting" to see what happens.  I stayed healthy. I enjoyed.  I grew friendships.  I had an opportunity for much mindfulness.  Plenty of great things came to me as I covered the ground.

Finally, "I always get to where I am going by walking away from where I have been."  Each time I run, I continue on.  I see what the run brings.  One run at a time.  One mile at a time.  On step at a time.  Again, great for this morning's steep hill, great for running in general, and great for life in general.

So, I have learned a lot this year about mindfulness and presence from running.  Be in the moment.  Take in what comes.  Enjoy.

If you run, what has your running taught you in 2018?  If you are not a runner, what other activity do you do and what have you learned? 

Two Runners, Four Runners

Two runners traveling around the city

On foot can have in depth conversations.

Even when the wind rushes by in noisy gusts 

The conversation is rarely disrupted.

Sometimes the runners must shout,

But their banter continues undeterred.

When the number of runners increases

From the number required to play war

To enough to play bridge

Filling the seats at a card table,

The conversation can be more varied

And the experience can be differently fulfilling.

The conversation can involve

The entire company of runners

With more opinions and knowledge informing

What is discussed.

But when the sidewalk is only wide enough

For two abreast

And the noisy wind blows strong from our left

Pushing us toward the water to the right,

The words of either pair are lost to the other two

As the soundwaves are blown wildly away

To float into the sky and join the ripples

Of the water in the harbor.

So, the conversation can continue

In any of six possible pairs.

The joy of the group of four compared to two

Is not double because there are twice as many runners

Or six times as there are that many more pairs.

In fact, it can’t be quantified

But the joy can be differently magical

With so many different ways to share

To light the way and

To lighten the hearts that pump the blood

Into four pairs of lungs

To provide oxygen to power the muscles

In four pairs of legs to move the runners

In unison around the city.

Four lives joined in harmony at sunrise,

Warming like the air as the sky grows lighter,

Carrying the energy of the sun

Like the flowers of the summer

The cold bodies remember from many other runs.

Sun, Clouds, Love

Deep pink at the horizon,

      Burnt orange above,

That one pointed out,

                  More of a peach color

                  In the next layer in the sky,

And finally darker colors

High in the sky

                              As we run along the harbor

        Early on a cool but not cold

                              Mid-fall morning. 

As the sun comes up

And the air warms,

      The colors turn

      To shades of baby blue

                Streaked across the sky,

As another observed.

Our conversation was as warm

As the rising sun

      And as varied

As the colors across the sky.

And throughout the morning

      There were wispy clouds,

      As the third noticed.

Early on, small clouds on the horizon

Like the bodies of little bugs

With many legs under them.

Later, spanning the entire sky.

Light and airy clouds,

Not bringing rain,

But making art in the sky.

Out conversation was light

And carried the art of life

Like the clouds.

A beautiful morning

For beautiful friendships

And wonderful conversation

About our many colored

Sometimes wispy lives.

But one thing is not wispy

But serious as all get out—

How we treat friends and family

With the love like the sun and clouds show

For life on the earth.

Instinctive Hunting

My creamy coated dog, China, and I,

Went for a long pre-dawn walk,

On a crisp November morning,

Under the stars that outline

An imagined hunter named Orion.

On the walk, she would stop and sniff

What seemed like everything.

I wondered what instincts

Were running through her mind.

Tracking a salmon in a stream in some past life?

Hunting the rabbits and squirrels

In our postage-stamp sized back yard?

Following the foxes that run through

Our residential neighborhood almost daily?

There is no way for me to know,

But it prompted me to think about

My instincts.

Do I even have instincts?

Are my instincts to be a hunter like Orion?

That is a thought that makes me laugh,

And would probably do the same for family,

And all the friends I call chosen family.

I’ve been told I overthink everything

And find it impossible

To draw things to conclusion.

But, in a way, I am a hunter.

Just not hunting game like Orion.

My brain is always hunting for answers.

Reflecting on things that have happened

To me and to those I call family.

Pondering how they are all connected.

Pondering ways to make

Deeper and extra connections.

Not just to hunt for today.

But to create a multiplier effect of betterment

For all my tomorrows

And the tomorrow of those around me.

That is my instinct.