Up on National

I'm well into marathon training at this point, with a couple 17 milers and several 15 milers under my belt. Of course, the long stuff is still to come. This morning I finally got back up on National along the top of S. Mountain...one of my favorite trails. I'm trying out map my run.com, so hopefully my map will come out below...

Around the camel

I'm finding new routes after our move for the summer. After running through Papago last weekend I decided to head in the other direction for my long run this weekend, kind of hoping to find the back trail to the Camelback summit...which I did find and ran a (short) section of. I hope to go back and run/hike all the way up at some point, but I wasn't ready to do that this morning, but here is a little picture near the start of the trail...the most runnable section I came across, really. From here I completed a circumnavigation of Camelback-extending my 13 mile run into almost 14...but it was worth it for the views from the trail.

Plus the nice cool weather this morning made it that much more enjoyable...my hands even got a little chilled at the start!

Pemberton

Every once in a while you have to stretch yourself-which I managed to do this weekend. The 15.4 mile Pemberton Trail loop at McDowell Mountain Park is a great rolling trail for runners (or mountain bikers or horseback riders, etc...). Very runnable surface with great views of 4 Peaks, the McDowell Mountains, and lots of little ins and outs along the trail. We ran it clockwise, which I believe is the easier way since the last 6 miles or so felt to be all downhill, making for a long uphill climb going counter-clockwise. Of course, I don't recommend going out to do the full loop if you're only doing 20 miles a week (and have already done 11 of those prior in the week), but like I said, it's good to stretch yourself, especially when you have good company (as we did this weekend). Being on summer break now, I can fully rest up anyways! On the wildlife side, was able to catch views of a roadrunner and small snake-and a biker said she had run over a snake along the trail, but it had scooted off right away again...

Travel Miles

The first in a (very) occasional series...travel finds. I always run while traveling (no better way to get to know a place) and anything interesting I find I'll talk up. This one happens to be in Columbus, Ohio (Glen Echo Ravine)...and this is one I found with the help of some locals a year ago and was able to return to and explore a little bit more. Ohio is not flat (at least not all of it) with much of it having been carved up by glaciers long ago. Those glaciers left these great little ravines scratched into the landscape where now trees tower above you as you run along the bottom. The one I ran through was off of Hudson Street and Arcadia Rd. (near the soccer stadium)... Head down Arcadia to the north and when the road turns you can keep going straight down a paved path/one land road into the ravine. It is fairly steep but a neat sight making your way down into it. This first part is pretty much a public park area with some grassy spots and plenty of people walking dogs. Wind through this and you'll pass under the road and from there follow the path that veers up to your right, up the side of the ravine. This trail will take you along about a 1/2 mile or so of great wooded footpath through midwestern woods. I even had the chance to hurdle a couple (small) downed trees. You'll spit out by a school, or head down to the bottom to explore a little more. It's a short section, so it'll only be part of your run, but it's a great sidetrek that will stick out. I didn't have more time to explore, but I don't believe it's very far from the bike path that follows the Olentangy through the city, which has miles and miles of paved, quiet, and safe running ready.

Carpe

Carpe diem. The problem with carpe diem is that often as you are actually seizing the day you are simultaneously wondering if its such a good idea. Thus the element of risk, I suppose. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. You need to stick your neck out there. No pain, no gain. There are a number of cliches to describe the situation but until you’re in the middle of the carpe it’s hard to really understand.
Today I’m flying cross-country to complete a certification process started over a year ago. If it works out it will provide a fantastic opportunity for our entire family. However, it would certainly be a fair question to ask why a family on a budget would send one member of their family on a cross-country flight to simply become certified as a teacher in a different state when he’s already certified in another. Wouldn’t it make more sense, one might argue, to conserve resources in tight times, focus on keeping steady where you’re at, until the “right” time comes along to make such a big move? Especially with a newborn in the family. The trip isn’t even about a possible job-it’s just looking to make me qualified to start applying for a job. So you could say the trip is, well, a big risk. Big time carpe diem.
Like I said, the possible pay-off could be a life-changing move and great opportunity for our family. On the other hand if nothing comes of it we’ll be out the airfare, application cost, hotel, car, and assorted other expenses that come with travel. Where will we be in three months? Regretting the lark of the risk or celebrating the opportunity born of taking a rather bold chance? Of course, there’s very little point in speculating too much right now. We’ve made our choice and so now is the time to see it through as best we can and make the most of whatever comes our way. Or the most of whatever we can make for ourselves.
Keeping our running lives fresh banks on taking those types of risks. Searching out new races, training techniques, fresh routes, or even new shoes (after your favorite pair was discontinued) shake us up. As we lace up those new shoes to head out on a new route in preparation for a fall marathon we wonder, “Is this really such a good idea?” My knee has been a little sore, job commitments may crop up, the kids’ sports practices are killing my evenings. Maybe it’s wiser to hold to the routine and wait until there’s a “better” time to try all this.
Our response to this type of challenge often goes one of two ways: either doubt and reason dictate the routine or we embrace the challenge of change and let it guide us. Certainly there are times to scale back, keep a routine. Even that may be stepping out depending on the situation. However, growth requires change. Will there dips, missteps, and disappointments? Probably. But rather than looking on them in the negative, recognize them for what they are: learning opportunities. Challenges present us many more opportunities to learn and the payoff is correspondingly that much greater. Find your challenge. Embrace it. You’ll thank yourself later.

Key workouts

Tuesday: timed mile-5:23 (I'd say there was a nasty wind, but excuses, excuses, excuses). That's about where I'm at

Sunday: 11 mile road/trail run...got to see the sunrise...cool

Key workouts last week

No track workout for me this week, due to a baseball game, but 2 other good runs:

• tempo run on Thursday; final average pace of 6:30, but started slower and finished under 6 minute pace...always help to have a partner to do those hard, hammering runs...
• long trail run (ok, sorta long) of 11 miles on Christianson Trail. Best part: it rained! Nothing like running through desert trails in a nice, light rain

Key workouts this week

Not that I'll list these every week, especially since with the new baby sometimes there aren't key workouts, but kind of a mini-log of what I'm doing. I keep a paper/pencil log, since I'm a sucker for actually being able to hold on to those kinds of things and flip through the pages...

Tuesday: Track workout, 4x400, then one 800. Focus on speed. Did all 400's between 69 and 71, 2:40 on the 800 (legs were a little shot)

Saturday: Tempo run, 7 miles: average 6:30 per mile

Ezra

This new guy came into my life about 3 weeks ago now. Being somewhat squeamish about blood and all things having to do with needles and poking, I wasn't so sure about being in the room during delivery. I shouldn't have been concerned. Since the moment had little to do with me and entirely about Ezra, my wife, and our family, there was never a shaky hand or moment. Very few times in my life have I been into a moment as I was at Ezra's birth. I know this isn't original or even very poetic, but it was simply, totally, amazing and miraculous.

Starting

When people ask how long I've been running my answer is pretty much, well, forever. At least that's about how far away junior high seems now. The smell of corn nuts in the cafeteria and lunches of ice cream sandwiches fit right in alongside my first days of "organized" running. Of course, I had spent much of my youth playing organized sports like soccer (my first love) and T-ball (which I had no use for after I got my glory day on the pitcher's mound). So I had done lots of running before junior high. But junior high is where running became the sport-not the thing you do in practice. This is why I'm able to tell my seventh grade students, and feel confident in doing so, that the patterns they start now are ones they will hold for the rest of their lives. Not that I ever thought I'd be thirty-something and still running. Mostly I thought that at 30 I'd be old. Rotten kid.
But there I was, a seventh grader standing in his newly minted running shoes sitting in the stands by our junior high track listening to our coach (also a math teacher) explain what we would be doing. Running all the way around the track? More than once? Wearing those little singlets and even smaller shorts? Apparently my response was to hike up my socks as tall as possible-yes, the ones with the big stripes up at the top (if I can find the picture I'll post it later). Not only did I have the high-fashion socks going on, but my shoes must have been the most cushioned ones ever made, because the sole on those things must have been two inches thick. Don't ask where I got 'em...I don't think I or my parents knew that there were such things as running specialty stores. But at least I had running shoes. Some of my friends showed up in high tops, skateboard shoes, and goodness knows what else. By the third week most of them were sitting on the side icing their shins. He also explained that we would split up into smaller sub-sets: distance runners, sprinters, hurdlers, and the kids who threw heavy stuff. It didn't take long for me to calculate where I belonged. Hurdles were out of the question; the low ones came up to the middle of my chest and I had never been noted for jumping ability. That also knocked out long and high jump. This skinny little white kid wasn't going to be hanging air. My short legs kind of made sprinting...well...not so much sprinting. Of course, I did give it a try on coach's direction, but the tall socks were just too much. I had no speed. Nor was I going to throw anything any distance. As I mentioned, I gave up on throwing a baseball after 1 game pitching...my arms simply didn't have the meat. So....distance. Not so bad. At least I get to run slow. Right?
Our long run, for the distance runners, was this impossible trek down the sidewalk into the neighborhood next to our school. Miles and miles long. By which I mean it was about 2 miles. As seventh graders who knew very little of the sport of running, we whispered amongst ourselves about the eighth graders who could go the whole way. Without stopping. That was hard core. However, something clicked as we started to talk about this. If they could do it, why couldn't I? I wanted to be the one who could go, in our limited experience anyway, forever. Yes, two miles all at once. Grand goals, yes, but it started a habit. Now, having completed 5 marathons and countless other races, it seems odd to think that it all started on a lonely windswept track, socks hiked up, and a thought.

Just keep going