Ugly Sweater Not Required

The choice was to keep climbing or take the connector trail back to the car.

We kept climbing.

The choice was to take baby steps, shuffle/run slowly up the ridge or lengthen our stride and hike.

We shuffled as long as we could.

The choice was bomb it down the double track or take is slow and use caution.

We thew caution out the window and flew, baby, flew!

9 miles in the trail with a girlfriend and her adventurous dog, Rembrant left me feeling so good! So good in fact that when we got out of the woods I left and went for another three along the bike bath to round the day out to about 12 miles total.

12 miles further than I have run in a long time. I don’t know if it was the encouragement, the trails in Southern Oregon or the 50-degree day that helped me get through it, but I was proud of my body and excited about the run all day long! After my shower I started to feel the effects of what 12 miles on an untrained body feels like—sore and tired. But still hyped up and ready to rock out all night long. Those crazy endorphins give you this weird energy high that allows you to not only push it harder and fast up the mountain, but harder and faster on the dance floor later that night. The following day was another story of exhaustion–but as for Saturday I was pumped and ready to keep on keepin’ on!

Thank god it’s boot weather; I threw on my tall boots with a shorty skirt, but not before I dug out my Smartwool compression socks. I’ve always kind of been a bit skeptical of compression sleeves and socks—skeptical until this summer when I felt the effects working wonders after a 100 mile Adventure Race and my 6-hour drive home! It feels like a million little elves are massaging your calves at hyperspeed. They’re super good at getting the blood flowing and comforting the fatigued muscle. It doesn’t make the muscle not hurt, but definitely speeds up the healing process.

So after 12 miles I wore them all day shopping, walking and crafting up my Ugly Sweater for the evenings activities and no one even knew I had dorky/techy socks on underneath.

As you can see in the photo, (this is pre ugly sweater party/post a drink or two) you can see the socks peaking out a bit from the boot. This was me being ‘runnerly fashionable’ what do you think? I think it worked, no one knew the difference and my calves appreciated the extra lovin’ they got allllllll nightlong! Awww yeah!

 

Ever worn compression anything? What do you think?

Ass Crack Hour Before Dawn

I currently started waking up at 3:55am twice a week. Why the hell would you do that? You ask? Well, the YMCA in my town opens at 5am and I hold the key to turn on the lights and treadmills at 4:30am. It’s cold and foggy and nothing but 7-11 is open that early, or late, depending on how you look at it.  In the past if I was awake at 3:55am it’s because I had yet to go to bed, now I’m responsible for the opening shift twice a week! Coffee makes me less of a zombie, people watching keeps me going until noon every Monday and Wednesday.

I have been living in the Pacific North West for just over two months now. When I arrived I was in awe at all of the beautiful people here. Young, thirty-ish couples and families buying organic food at the Co-op, older people hiking further than me in the park, kids biking and walking to school with out complaint. This part of the country is just healthier than the east coast and the mid west.

Working at the Y has opened my eyes to the true effect of the PSW or at least the attitude of the people here. First I’ll describe my job after I turn on the lights and the machines at the ungodly hour of 4:30. I then unlock the doors at 5 and let the masses in! And by masses I mean the 60+ year olds waiting outside in the dark. The majority of people waiting for my turn of the key are retired men and women that are used to being up at the ass crack hour BEFORE dawn. These people greet me with my name, a smile and the weather report and then go on their way through the door to swim, lift and elipt the morning away before the sun peaks his head above the mountains.

I’m forced to think about my family back in the eastern part of the country while I’m meeting all these people out west. I see elderly men and women the same age or older than my grandparents looking young and sprightly! Up early, being social and active. I compare and contrast the 50 some things to my parents who are both active, but live further east. My mother in the Midwest with stresses of Yacht Club meetings, Christmas parties and her marketing job; working out and being outside become low man on the totem pole when life gets thrown at her. My Dad who is a recent Colorado resident has stresses of a new job, moving, meeting people; he’s bombarded all day and going for a hike isn’t high up on priorities.

As the morning carries on the age group varies to young high school boys, to 40 some business people, to octogenarians that resemble people my parent’s age! There’s a woman that comes every time I work and when she scans her membership card I have to double check every time, her age claims she’s 94—she looks about 62, a 62 year old that looks good!

I scare myself some times. As I’m sitting at the desk trying to keep my eyes open and brain active beautiful men and women come in and I play a game with myself. The game is ‘guess their age!’ Most of time I find myself oddly attracted to the men that look 30 but are actually 45 year olds that just look so youthful, (don’t worry Mother, I’m not going there.)

I can only attribute this amazing beauty and youthful look to the air, the mountains and the amazingly active lifestyle people in the PNW maintain all their lives. I think people here in Oregon make vitamin D intake precedence. Sunshine is not a luxury but a necessity in their daily lives.

Seeing these people and constantly being surprised by their age is inspiring me to explore, constantly push myself physically, mentally and hope that when I’m 34 I’ll look 24, when I’m 64 I’ll look 56, when I’m 86 I’ll look 72! We can only hope, right?

Be Free

My runs recently have been less and less planned. I put on my running shoes, I stop thinking and I go. I really go. Everywhere I turn here in Oregon is beautiful, so it really doesn’t matter what direction I end up going I’ll be looking at beautiful mountains, trees, people, no matter what—so it works out.

 

I was lacking some serious motivation today. As I put on my shoes and running clothes I kept getting distracted by Facebook, Twitter, what song was next on Pandora, text messages…etc, media is a great way to keep you from getting anything done. I fiiiiiiiiiinally got my ass out the door, started my watch and got going. I had no plan, no distance or time in mind, I just ran.

 

“I ran to be free; I ran to avoid pain; I ran to feel pain; I ran out of love and hate and anger and joy.”

—- Dagny Scott

 

Take this quote whatever way you want. Today, for me, this quote is literally about going for a run to feel the hurt of a great work out, to free my mind, body and soul, to do something I love and hate all at the same time. I run to sort out the world’s problems and think about my own or not think about them at all.

Today I ran to be free from my mind. No plan, no direction, no time limit. I was able to notice the brilliants of the fall foliage; the trees that are on fire with a snowy mountainous back drop and an awesome blue sky. I freed my body from being self-conscious; I freed my mind from all the things I think about daily, hourly…a constant struggle to keep my mind from over thinking. I was able to let go and really run. And on runs like these, time, distance and direction really don’t matter. The take away isn’t the miles logged, it’s the mentally clarity gained.