tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7858087366320463642024-03-18T20:24:30.166-07:00Life Outside the Comfort ZoneUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785808736632046364.post-72543852352406131422015-11-25T10:02:00.001-08:002015-11-29T21:03:25.136-08:00Trails of Glory Debut - November 2015<style>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The single track dropped away immediately from the parking
lot. Sand alternated with rocks. Joshua trees, yucca, creosote, and
rabbitbrush seemingly dust the gray sand and rocks…gray sand and rocks that
occasionally give way to the iron rich reds.
While the soils and flora and fauna of desert trails differ greatly from
soft dirt of forest trails, I think the most noticeable distinction between
them is the striking and far-reaching vistas of the desert. Horizons sweep away giving one both a sense
of smallness and greatness…smallness in the enormity of a massively open
landscape and greatness in the ability to see a vast creation from the crest of
a rise.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhmZMEIkvp8VjMnomUbJXmtVOXX9KfEpNOTLxP3SytJ4EtAGgKdc952nFvi9RYv-iL7AsXaBM_X1R1SQ1S850ZMtziLlhwHGCh4dtBidI8VZedWg9N8bNrutD5NCBLG5wsA4UvHKFRQ/s1600/Trails+of+Glory_2015_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhmZMEIkvp8VjMnomUbJXmtVOXX9KfEpNOTLxP3SytJ4EtAGgKdc952nFvi9RYv-iL7AsXaBM_X1R1SQ1S850ZMtziLlhwHGCh4dtBidI8VZedWg9N8bNrutD5NCBLG5wsA4UvHKFRQ/s640/Trails+of+Glory_2015_6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over the past few years most of my trail runs have been in
the desert, Nevada and southern Utah.
The wide open spaces provide an extra challenge to the run, at least for
me. On a wooded trail, the trees and
turns hide the distances ahead and behind.
In the desert, distances are transparent; the runner cannot hide the
distances from his thoughts or his thoughts from the distances. The grit of the desert makes its demand of
payment in kind.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfCvu-Y2sYzsDLG1AjkcUwqirRK0b0GKDhshDWotavAns_gxlYO7w_Lydvq7jKn2UZxL97dB_uXIhjVjkIOKFkt7fBFJfvFXWHYyt9waBJqBCKBlmW0b4De6A8u-Tl2tYZczh0lazSw/s1600/Trails+of+Glory_2015_10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfCvu-Y2sYzsDLG1AjkcUwqirRK0b0GKDhshDWotavAns_gxlYO7w_Lydvq7jKn2UZxL97dB_uXIhjVjkIOKFkt7fBFJfvFXWHYyt9waBJqBCKBlmW0b4De6A8u-Tl2tYZczh0lazSw/s400/Trails+of+Glory_2015_10.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since June of this year I have worked hard to lose weight
and to get myself back into good physical shape. To date I have managed to lose over thirty
pounds and run some solid distances again.
Outside of a 5K this summer, the <a href="http://www.desertdash.com/races/trails-of-glory/">Trails of Glory</a> race by <a href="http://www.desertdash.com/">Desert Dash</a> was
the first race I’ve ran this year, which is significant because I’ve averaged 5
or more races each year since 2010. As
part of my current fitness program, I was challenged to set and accomplish a
goal. My goal was to complete the 12K
distance in this race. When I registered
for the race online, I was required to input my expected finishing time. Going against my better judgment I entered a
time of ninety minutes, a time faster than I thought I could handle on the
desert hills.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The morning chill dissipated quickly following the gun
start. After a quick loop around the
asphalt parking lot, we hit the trail. We
were a crowd on a single track, each a bit hyped on the adrenaline that courses
through veins at the beginning of a race.
The first two miles fell away quickly with runners pushing, trying to
establish order. In quick order I passed
the damaged Duck Tree, only catching a fleeting glance of some rubber
ducks. (The branch that used to hang
across the trail, forcing runners to duck, is now ripped away from the
tree.) In the swiftness of the first two
miles, I only see one runner go down, but she was up quickly. While I never slipped or stumbled, I realize
the soles of my well-worn road shoes are thin, too thin to be running on rocky
trails. A problem for another day.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7QNXbeXO0etEW4WqdDOxC5qbrKCoWVsMuI-th3jcHudjxJ231UR02AhQZIWabxzfJsocu-rnXfJb5wiGmcXF9f0ONOB2yL3MqysqRACF2Xm0ELXzXPh0IJUF6VoLKoOJmxfQo39MMSA/s1600/Trails+of+Glory_2015_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7QNXbeXO0etEW4WqdDOxC5qbrKCoWVsMuI-th3jcHudjxJ231UR02AhQZIWabxzfJsocu-rnXfJb5wiGmcXF9f0ONOB2yL3MqysqRACF2Xm0ELXzXPh0IJUF6VoLKoOJmxfQo39MMSA/s400/Trails+of+Glory_2015_5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just after mile three, the climb begins with more turns and
curves, with the occasional refreshing dips.
Here the contest truly begins, the doubts enter the mind as pain enters
the lungs and the legs. My performance
through this phase surprises me. I
manage to run more than I had expected, walking seldom. It’s not just my conditioning that allows me
to push myself further than I anticipated, but it’s the psychological force
coming from the knowledge that runners are behind me and ahead of me. Usually I prefer to run with minimal company,
but the presence of other runners during a race is motivating. I want to stay ahead of those behind me. I want to pass those ahead of me. I don’t want to slow and be a hindrance to
those behind me.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEins6-tJti1e3v3_vN8i5INyiSQWRWShD3KQWj135dIUdBJijRqJoXDol_XgIvxBurREhvA5eLPMe6MY634DDz6JpoPKtFXaO0uOP3Ju3akfSYLH4p9L_cuTkkU3VMSA8fJyJn57ve-qg/s1600/Trails+of+Glory_2015_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEins6-tJti1e3v3_vN8i5INyiSQWRWShD3KQWj135dIUdBJijRqJoXDol_XgIvxBurREhvA5eLPMe6MY634DDz6JpoPKtFXaO0uOP3Ju3akfSYLH4p9L_cuTkkU3VMSA8fJyJn57ve-qg/s400/Trails+of+Glory_2015_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">By the the time I reach the first aid station at mile four,
I’m tired but still invigorated, thrilled to know that I have a reservoir of
energy and strength with less than half of the race left to run. The run to the next aid station gave me the
opportunity to push myself a little harder, even to pass a few more
runners. Views of the mountains are
amazing, with the clear blue sky overhead.
By now I’m wondering if I should have gone without the long sleeve shirt
or if I should peel off my short sleeve shirt.
I’m sweating profusely and enjoying the heat. I enjoyed the steep drop and steep climb to
the second aid station just past mile five.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The crowd builds at the aid station as runners from the different
distance groups gather to get a drink. I’m
thankful that I have carried my own water bottle, and I push on without
stopping. At the next turn the 8K
runners join us on the trail, a long, slim trail that climbs steadily for
almost two miles, a long “slog” as the race director described it. Here I walked more than I wanted, but I wasn’t
walking alone. Despite getting passed by
a few, I manage to push my past a few other runners. One demands to know where the hill ends. I can see the final ridge and push, yearning
for the last downhill portion.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIbVxX9UWxvJ-1jUmd_fOOO4fCXTfWQTixOoMV1zUgHx9TxZ6nNe7pKBo6DsntBvyCv_m6zpxwL8KEaW7uNrGTRUogryWnVUacoRV6Mqd1N7SPbeV1I1PmxLx17h9yC8hyphenhyphenqCuGeJRz5w/s1600/Trails+of+Glory_2015_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIbVxX9UWxvJ-1jUmd_fOOO4fCXTfWQTixOoMV1zUgHx9TxZ6nNe7pKBo6DsntBvyCv_m6zpxwL8KEaW7uNrGTRUogryWnVUacoRV6Mqd1N7SPbeV1I1PmxLx17h9yC8hyphenhyphenqCuGeJRz5w/s400/Trails+of+Glory_2015_3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After a hill, feeling the ground fall away in a decline is
always rewarding. I feel obligated to
run, to push myself. I do. Unfortunately, another runner goes down in
front of me, on the rocks, rocks that are jagged. She is slow to rise and steps to the side of
the trail so I can pass. Another runner
makes sure she is not injured seriously.
I pass a few others, and now I’m wondering if I can maintain the pace
even as I quicken it. The cars parked
along the highway come into view, compelling me to go faster, assuming that the
finish line is imminent. There are more
twists and turns than I expect. Another
runner cries out that the finish line is straight ahead as a volunteer directs
us to another turn. Around the last turn
and I’m flying, trying to hold off the runner just behind me. I stay ahead as I pass my wife waiting for me
and cross the finish line.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I finished in 1:27:37, almost a full two and a half minutes faster than I planned. Managed to place 40th overall for the 12k distance, which ironically matches my new and beautiful age. (I came in 8th for my age division.)
As I expect at the end of a race of this distance, my legs and my lungs
burn. Unexpectedly, however, my level of
euphoria is higher than it has been in months of running, even since my last
race, driven no doubt by my satisfactory performance and the majestic course.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqWlal2K0LmpEmLmHTAQrMnM0-8MxWzvgSRnfD20JwmxkEIiAm9z5VS9aNTVvUH0FP3di_EPwI_xkbjf2bg4UY_lFZ9DMzPdZusXrF-IdtYKnYLy5R4WC4Wb04GRIioMioGDHF0pD-A/s1600/Trails+of+Glory_2015_Medal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqWlal2K0LmpEmLmHTAQrMnM0-8MxWzvgSRnfD20JwmxkEIiAm9z5VS9aNTVvUH0FP3di_EPwI_xkbjf2bg4UY_lFZ9DMzPdZusXrF-IdtYKnYLy5R4WC4Wb04GRIioMioGDHF0pD-A/s400/Trails+of+Glory_2015_Medal.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My hunger for racing (and trail running) is restored. Already I’m looking for more races and
reasons to run the desert trails. A few
of the upcoming Desert Dash races have my attention; I’ll likely run one or two
of them in 2016, perhaps pushing myself to the half marathon distance and maybe
to a trail marathon.</span></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;">Post Script on Desert Dash</span></b></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This was my first Desert Dash event. Other than the longer than average wait for
the official results, I think the race was organized and executed very
well. The check in was set up and ready
for runners to arrive and the trail was marked clearly with volunteers to
direct us through any complex junctions.
The price for the event seemed about right. Were I in better shape than I am right now, I
would consider running their <a href="http://www.desertdash.com/races/black-mountain-friday/">Black Mountain Friday</a> event on November 27<sup>th</sup>...that
and if the price wasn’t so high. Even
for a late registration, a $70 fee seems too high for a seven-mile race,
especially with no aid station at the top.
Perhaps the permit fees are higher than normal. Either way, it look like a great race.</span></div>
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</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785808736632046364.post-12921921382550532422015-11-05T20:49:00.003-08:002015-11-29T21:23:57.035-08:00A Constant and Faithful Running Companion<style>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the social sphere of my running life, (or perhaps in the
running sphere of my social life), people, places, shoes, shirts, and shorts
have come and gone over the past five or so years. My running hat, however, was a constant. From the time that I purchased it from Runner’s
Corner in Orem, Utah, I ran with it everywhere.
It’s been on three or four marathons, two half marathons, eight or nine
Ragnar Relays, two Ragnar Trail Relays, two Red Rock Relay races, and a number
of various other races. It’s been with
me on miles and miles and miles of training runs. My dad runs with this hat’s twin. He’s been running with it for the same period
of time and covered many, many miles.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDV0gnuS6_-YeuaYr9_cLZWtFMkWBGjHL4rchavviYKEkuq5A3TjavStiRCQRBXVwfjyNQlOeK1-HqWuKqzAdBBWGA0FZfRQ1o3vkW7A_KKs1GWd_Z1s71mB7awNRrfwo8Tn8oAFEm8Q/s1600/Runner%2527s+Corner+Hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDV0gnuS6_-YeuaYr9_cLZWtFMkWBGjHL4rchavviYKEkuq5A3TjavStiRCQRBXVwfjyNQlOeK1-HqWuKqzAdBBWGA0FZfRQ1o3vkW7A_KKs1GWd_Z1s71mB7awNRrfwo8Tn8oAFEm8Q/s400/Runner%2527s+Corner+Hat.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What is the benefit of a good running hat? First, it keeps the sun off your face,
preventing a sunburned nose and protecting the eyes. Second, it absorbs and wickers the sweat,
keeping it out of your eyes. The wicking
of the sweat also helps to keep your head cool as the sweat evaporates. Third, the amount of sweat soaked into the
hat, at least for me, is a rewarding indicator of hard work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Freely I admit that I did buy another running hat to wear on
occasion, a bright neon green hat. It
wasn’t that I didn’t want to wear my white running hat with the Runner’s Corner
logo, but that occasionally, after a week’s worth of runs, it needed to be
washed. At the request of my wife I even
wore the neon green hat during a few races so that she could pick me out of the
crowd a little more easily. The white
hat, however, remained my favorite, even as the band began to fray here and there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This past September, as I suited up for a run, I grabbed my
trusty Runnner’s Corner hat and the plastic clasp at the back of the hat broke.
The hat is now unwearable. Never
again will it grace my head on a run, emitting a lingering scent as I pass
innocent pedestrians and bystanders. I
was devastated to a somewhat significant degree by the loss, enough so that I
sat down for awhile contemplating my history with that hat…the good runs and
the bad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After a few minutes I moved on, donning the neon green hat
for that days run in the 90-plus degree heat.
My sadness continued for a few days.
I thought about ordering a replacement hat from Runner’s Corner, asking
them to ship it to me. Looking at my
calendar, I even counted down the days to my next expected trip to Utah. Less than a week after my hat came apart, I
was at the neighborhood park with family and friends to celebrate a milestone
birthday. A good friend gave me a gift
wrapped in a bag. Since I was cooking I
set it aside to open later. At the end
of the party, after my friend had left, I opened the bag. It was a shiny, new running hat.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrPDRN2T2lWyCix2mNwpSearMyu29OaQ4o-oEjIOLQf4TO-G4LgfF6sOJCI6EM6HQ83q_ZZ_GhbLpeoFOKecEFvFY2vlEZeaM4iiX1L0zL_PytHQqqul0jsGQA8uLoui9webF4KCkEQ/s1600/New+Running+Hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrPDRN2T2lWyCix2mNwpSearMyu29OaQ4o-oEjIOLQf4TO-G4LgfF6sOJCI6EM6HQ83q_ZZ_GhbLpeoFOKecEFvFY2vlEZeaM4iiX1L0zL_PytHQqqul0jsGQA8uLoui9webF4KCkEQ/s400/New+Running+Hat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
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</span><br />
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To quote the famous Dr. Seuss, “Oh, the Places We’ll Go.”</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-0fzkdVaTTMtyjGDONXhTZSubKdWoBd_6qZ6wOrKrEDz8R8N8fyBDAABLMp-LJ6eIx-kim0z5wVCbwQSUqo_YVryAPSs5UIajScGGHRNtx-yzEyS77MzNY78pWscnKYO4auFRa1Lvg/s1600/Trails+of+Glory_2015_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-0fzkdVaTTMtyjGDONXhTZSubKdWoBd_6qZ6wOrKrEDz8R8N8fyBDAABLMp-LJ6eIx-kim0z5wVCbwQSUqo_YVryAPSs5UIajScGGHRNtx-yzEyS77MzNY78pWscnKYO4auFRa1Lvg/s400/Trails+of+Glory_2015_6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New running companion with me on its first race.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">See also:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Read about the hat's first race: Trails of Glory Debut-November 2015 </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2013/05/ogden-marathon-2013-experience-and.html">Ogden Marathon 2013: The Experience and Lessons Learned</a></span><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2014/05/ogden-marathon-2014-oops-i-did-it-again.html"><span style="font-size: large;">Ogden Marathon 2014: Oops, I Did It Again </span></a></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785808736632046364.post-8172805621238085242014-06-09T21:39:00.001-07:002014-06-10T08:47:20.375-07:00Unplanned Speed Training and Race Trepidations<style>
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It’s just after 9pm and I’m struggling to stay awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran with my 15-year-old daughter this
morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s not in great shape for
any kind of distance, but she’s extremely competitive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pushed me hard for that first mile and
then challenged me to a sprint for the last quarter of a mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lucky for me she was slow on the hills in
between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt great all day until I
came home from work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I’m
dragging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pressure is on to keep
running consistently this month, despite triple digit temperatures in the Las
Vegas Valley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting up before 6am is
imperative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon I’ll need to get up
even earlier to avoid the sun.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Wasatch Back Ragnar is fast approaching, less than 20
days away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My training for the past few
months has been almost non-existent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Until the past two weeks most of my running has taken place as part of
race instead of a regular training program.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Following the Ogden Marathon last month and a generous donation of a
pint or more of blood to the Red Cross, I’m finally back to running about four
days a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This will be my fourth year running of the Wasatch Back
Ragnar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m runner 1 for the first
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just under 21 miles, I’ll cover
the second longest distance of the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Looking ahead I’m intimidated by the distances and the hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first leg is 6.5 miles with a good hill
right away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be a beautiful run
up along the eastern rim of Cache Valley above Logan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leg 2 will leave from Snow Basin on a trail
with a 300-foot climb and then scream down SR-167 for about seven miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The total leg is 9.3 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My third leg, luckily, will be the easiest at
just five miles—mostly flat with a little bit of rolling hills.</div>
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<br /></div>
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With the time that’s remaining, I won’t be able to set any
great speed records.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can, however,
build my endurance and speed enough to finish each leg and make recovery a bit
easier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hopefully I’m fast enough that I
don’t anger or disappoint any of my teammates, but I ran with them last year so
I don’t think their expectations are too high.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhHtWQdVfKaHyiludVeAv9GesD64aPSEoKAsa80oB-W0Soe2c4c5dtQUwQcYEDNypiC4AXKTVlE4z1pIgzLpdPuoYLTzvFr4J_Cz9QR0HNhkiDZrLjwq-GS4eXUdCtG90uOhSkNSWUg/s1600/Ragnar+Del+Sol+Jarad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhHtWQdVfKaHyiludVeAv9GesD64aPSEoKAsa80oB-W0Soe2c4c5dtQUwQcYEDNypiC4AXKTVlE4z1pIgzLpdPuoYLTzvFr4J_Cz9QR0HNhkiDZrLjwq-GS4eXUdCtG90uOhSkNSWUg/s1600/Ragnar+Del+Sol+Jarad.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
My goal is to keep running through the summer, despite the
heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to get my body weight down
while building some endurance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In order
to register for the Ogden Full Marathon next year I need to be down 10 pounds
(hopefully 15) and consistently be running double-digit mile distances by
October.</div>
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<br /></div>
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If I can keep my daughter running with me, I think she’ll
help me out on the speed training.<br />
<br />
Please enjoy a few of my other running themed blog posts:<br />
<a href="http://outsidethecomfort-zone.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-early-history-of-running.html">The Early History of Running </a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2012/05/why-i-ragnar.html">Why I Ragnar</a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2014/02/ragnar-etiquette-dos-donts-and-please.html">Ragnar Etiquette: Dos, Don'ts, and Please Don'ts</a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2013/05/ragnar-zion-to-trails.html">Ragnar Zion - To the Trails </a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2013/09/profile-of-ragnarian-jarad-van-wagoner.html">Profile of a Ragnarian: Jarad Van Wagoner</a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2013/05/running-with-reed.html">Running with Reed</a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2012/05/art-of-marathon.html">The Art of the Marathon</a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2013/05/ogden-marathon-2013-experience-and.html">Ogden Marathon 2013</a><br />
<a href="http://politicsofwork.blogspot.com/2014/05/ogden-marathon-2014-oops-i-did-it-again.html">Ogden Marathon 2014: Oops, I Did It Again</a></div>
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</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785808736632046364.post-25450127164447417692014-05-27T22:59:00.001-07:002014-05-27T22:59:28.658-07:00The Early History of Running
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Deep thoughts about running?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Deep thoughts during running?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
not really sure what I’m trying to capture here, but we’ll see where it
goes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This will be sort of a running
journal, an opportunity for me to explore my extroverted tendencies and share
the joys and pains of my running journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some of what I write may be technical (best shoes, training methods,
diet, etc.).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of what I write may be
for entertainment purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of what
I write will be to capture lessons learned (and it likely will cross over into
the spiritual).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4pDWI6kQvKDmDSDQ0Dn3BLWjSjpN2wn1N_Y0jMk4-2SM43duydfz9tYjSyiy_y4PR3YINiHWKqyeU4_u9EFnneF5zFDSm6IxLZKbhyCjPcN3ym4Y3ddWINmElqm_W_IocIUhFxHdCg/s1600/Running.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4pDWI6kQvKDmDSDQ0Dn3BLWjSjpN2wn1N_Y0jMk4-2SM43duydfz9tYjSyiy_y4PR3YINiHWKqyeU4_u9EFnneF5zFDSm6IxLZKbhyCjPcN3ym4Y3ddWINmElqm_W_IocIUhFxHdCg/s1600/Running.jpeg" /></a></div>
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I have been running since I was a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then it was just to run from my sister or
others as I teased them, or from the scene of some newly made mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a commercial, way back in the day,
for a shoe that was supposed to make the wearer extremely fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I begged and begged until my parents finally
bought me that brand of shoe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a
sense of great expectations I put the new shoes on my feet in front of my
grandmother’s trailer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pulling the laces
tight, I tied and retied my knots perfectly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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A few other children had gathered around to observe my
exploits—my sister, some cousins, and a few neighborhood kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I jogged up and down the sidewalk a few times
to warm up, then I told them to watch while I unleashed the power of the shoes
in a sprint up the sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crouching
in the three point starting stance, I waited while someone counted down:
“Ready!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Set!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Spring from my stance I took off down the sidewalk, pumping
my legs and watching the shoes work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was certain I was faster than I had ever been before even if I didn’t notice
much more wind racing through my wild hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After a few dozen yards, I reined myself in and turned around to gauge
everyone’s reactions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody seemed
overawed, much less mildly impressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of the neighborhood boys chuckled at me and said, “I can run faster
than that.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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The challenge couldn’t be ignored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We picked a starting line on the sidewalk,
lowered into our starting positions, and waited for the countdown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On “Go!” I took off as fast as I could
run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within about five steps it was
obvious that I was outmatched and wouldn’t catch him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Devastated I slowed to a walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he turned and began to gloat, I had a
sudden thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What brand of shoes is he wearing?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe he was wearing the same new brand and simply had more experience
in them.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I said, “Let me see your shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What are you wearing?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked down at his shoes and I looked at
them as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were well worn,
almost worn out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where I had nice new
leather and a well-textured soul, his shoes were thin and torn, smooth on the
bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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“I don’t know what kind of shoes they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wear whatever my mom buys me.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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That day my dream of being fast didn’t die, not completely,
but it was the first step toward a realization of my natural skills and
shortcomings.</div>
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<br /></div>
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By middle school I once again was entertaining hopes that I might
turn into a fast runner, although maybe not as a sprinter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Workman Middle School in Pensacola,
Florida I managed to run one mile in around 5 minutes and 45 seconds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hopes were that my legs would get longer
and I would be able to decrease my time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unfortunately that was the fastest mile I ever ran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In ninth grade I started to put on a lot of
muscle weight and my legs didn’t get much longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During tryouts for the freshman football team
the next year at Booker T. Washington High School, my forty-yard dash was
barely fast enough to earn me a position as an outside linebacker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never ran the forty-yard dash that fast
again.</div>
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<br /></div>
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From that point on, at least until I tried to get into the
Air Force, I never pushed myself hard to run for speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That doesn’t mean I didn’t run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Primarily I ran because a wrestling or football coach told me to
run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran so I could make weight for
wrestling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, at that point in my life
I didn’t do much running for the joy of running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, I enjoyed running during a football game
and crashing into someone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoyed a
good pick up game of basketball or ultimate Frisbee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running itself, however, was not the goal or
path to fun.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0