Is It Worth It?

Admittedly, the weather of the last few days has been less than pleasant for running.  Maybe it's just a Southerner's thin skin allowing the 40 degree rain to penetrate a little too deeply, or maybe it's the accumulation of many days of miserable weather over the last few weeks, but whatever the cause, the effect is the same:  a cold, drenched, slightly fatigued runner trudging back inside afterward.

To any sane person, this begs the immediate question of why we do it.  Why would we put ourselves through such experiences?  Why risk sickness?  Why go out into the cold?  I must admit, when I get off work and am driving to my running launch point, I often wonder such things.  I often find myself asking, is it worth it?

Sitting at a keyboard, it is certainly easy to say "of course it is, you can get X and Y and Z out of it and see benefits A and B and C and you can do this, and, and, and..." But when it comes time to put rubber to road, we're all faced with that same question.

Is it worth it?

I think that when we opt out of our runs, the answer is apparently that it is not; however, when we, as runners, can get past these questions that plague us prior to our runs, more often than not, once we get into the act of running itself, the answer becomes a resounding yes.

Is it worth it?  This cold, drenched, slightly fatigue runner trudging back inside afterward would have to give a hearty affirmative.

Invaders

We've all experienced it.

Somewhere out on a run, absent-mindedly flowing through the miles, we see or hear something that serves as a reminder (wanted or otherwise) of a world we have temporarily escaped.

The other day, I passed a broken iPhone in the road.  Only later did the thought even cross my mind to empathize with whomever was unlucky enough to have lost such an item, but for the rest of the run, my only thought was how out of place the device seemed to be.

Cruising down the street freely, I wasn't noticing much beyond my own rhythmic breathing and striding,  but when something did catch my attention, it was a child on a bicycle or a lady walking her dog.  The smashed iPhone seemed somewhat anachronistic.

Perhaps I allowed myself to get pulled into a nostalgic feeling, but I think there was more to it than that.   I think that on those few runs where everything "clicks," we get caught up in the experience, and seeing the coolest new techno-wonder invade such a run might in some way pull us back to the realities that we have, if only for a brief time, sidestepped.

Along similar lines, perhaps it was only appropriate that it was broken as I passed, at least in a philosophical sense.  Yes, I'm aware that a mint-condition iPhone wouldn't last in the middle of a road for long; yes, I realize how much of a headache this inevitably was for the owner of the phone; and yes, I realize the obvious irony (hypocrisy...?) of such commentary being typed on a computer to be posted to the interwebs...

...but somewhere there is poetic justice to be found in a broken iPhone in the middle of the run...

Alabama Relief Run, 1 Year Removed

Much to my surprise, it's been a full year since I embarked upon the Alabama Relief Run, which has arguably been my most ambitious run to date.  Given that I've had a while to digest what all happened, it seemed like a good idea to take some time to reminisce...

Early smiles...

I must admit that, although I realized that certain aspects of such a run could not possibly be foreseen, the extent of my ignorance prior to the start impresses me still (of course, truth be told, I'm reminded of the extent of my ignorance with respect to many aspects of life other than running on a regular and frequent basis...)

Once things got underway, everything went as smoothly as could be expected for the first few days; weather was almost perfect, the ol' legs held up pretty well, and the crew even seemed to be enjoying themselves.  After a bit of a scare on morning 5, things went relatively smoothly again until the finish.  A year removed, my achilles tendon is still tight, and I haven't really had the internal motivation required for serious training (dang, I miss running fast in races...), but looking at the experience and what we were running for, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Of course, the question is still ever-present:  What's next?

The best part of the answer is that I don't know.  I don't know where the running will lead me next.  I don't know if it will be some epically long jaunt.  I don't know if I'll ever match what I did last October.

But finding out should be fun...

For those interested enough to scroll through, a few candid moments from the run:

Tony and me at the beach just before starting (Note the "I'm so nervous I want to cry" smile...)

Dannie makes a pb&j that's hard to beat

Day 2:  Good times

I love this picture; it seems to illustrate the determination.  If there's something that Peter and I both have our minds set on doing, I dare anyone to try to stop us.  (Also, I pose the question here, who's feeling more protective of whom?)

Really, I feel great... and who knew that Grove Hill was on top of a big freakin' hill?!?!

Pounding out the miles late in the day. Tony and Dannie were the perfect crew for the task

Early morning, Day 4.  Beautiful rural Alabama Roads

A deep moment.

I didn't know this picture was being taken; this is the toll it takes.  4 days. 201 miles. A chink in the armor.

Feeling better after a rough morning.  Day 5.

Started with the lowest of lows.  Ended with the highest of highs.

Why we run.

Mataddy:  Ancient Hawaiian legend.  If you want to know more about it, ask; I'd be glad to expound upon the subject

Feet hurt.  Knees sore.  Body and mind exhausted.  I love this stuff.

An unexpected duty:  keeping the interwebs up to date on our plodding progress

Treated to lunch at Aroma's Cafe in historic Winfield, AL

Late start in the rain, but still living it up and running at blazing speeds

Yep

Workers from the Wrangler plant in Hackleburg came out to say hi.  Again, these folks are the reason this run occurred, and I was honored to get to talk with them and amazed at their resiliency

Talking with the people of Phil Campbell, AL, a town that was devastated by the storms and got half of the proceeds of the ARR

The mighty Austin XC Team joined for a few miles

I still think this is just a cool picture

Always a good day when my Darling Baby Sister shows up

Fun times on Day 9 for those who survive the battle of attrition

A great reception in Decatur with friends from all over

Getting my Forest Gump on...

I can see the finish...

No words needed.

Perhaps my favorite picture.  Dannie and Tony were the best crew I could have asked for.  The ARR Would have never worked without them, and this picture, in my mind, sums up how it worked.

Hurricane Running

With Isaac making his way ashore, I can't help but reminisce about a run I did about this time 7 years ago.

(Note/Caveat:  I'm in no way making light or lessening the hardships that people on the coast may go through due to flooding/wind damage; I've got a sister down there and am keeping a close eye on the situation, myself)

A sophomore in college, I was thrilled that classes had been cancelled as Lady Katrina decided to come inland, and, like most of my fellow collegians in Starkville, I intended to make the most of the situation.

Most students went out and played football, sloshed through the mud, and enjoyed general shenanigans while the winds built.  By around the 40-45mph mark, most had had their fill of the sustained wind and returned indoors to hunker down and ride out the storm.

I had just woken up from a nap.

Around, 45mph, I laced up my shoes and headed out.  If you've never experienced rain at 50-60+ mph, it's an entirely different phenomenon, more akin to flying needles than drops of water.

Cruising down Engineering Row, the slight downhill grade combined with a significant tailwind to create a bit of a conundrum for me as I approached a 4-way intersection, but nothing that a well-timed, quick grab/clotheslining move on the already-flailing stop sign couldn't solve.

A short while later, passing in front of Hilbun Hall, the headwind, rain-needles and all, was stiff enough to stop me in my tracks.  That was the only time I've ever leaned forward and driven my knees/steps as hard as I could without moving an inch forward.  Tactical lateral movements combined with further leaning and infinitesimally slight and momentary reductions of wind eventually let me progress.

By the time I got to the spot my friends and I had chosen as our respite from both the storm and the dorm, wind speeds had topped 70mph, and since I had relied on momentary lucky breaks in the wind to get that far, I decided to end my run there.  All my friends had been there some time and were surprised I was still out at that point.

Katrina was still a category 1 hurricane when it went over Starkville, roughly 200 miles north of the coast, as the crow flies.  I've never experienced anything quite like it before or since.  We all know what it did in terms of destruction, but my short little run gave a somewhat unique glimpse into another aspect of such a phenomenon.

Whereas I would never wish something like a hurricane or other such destructive force of nature on anyone, I hope that everyone has experienced some form of unique standpoints with regard to otherwise monstrous, highly-visible, and awe-inspiring events.  Maybe even while running.

Late Summer

Much to my surprise, late summer is already upon us.  This might not seem like a noteworthy observation, but late summer is a magical time for running.

Last night was warm and muggy (not hot and muggy, thanks to a summer storm passing just north of us), which is rather typical, and the equally as typical effects were in full force.

Running came with ease, albeit not quite as quickly as it might feel; the obscenely high humidity and dew point ensured that.  Breathing equal parts water and air comes with a price, I suppose.

The late summer tends to bring out the best in other runners, too.  The company of those who have weathered the 100+ degree days for months on end is easy to enjoy, especially when everyone is of the same opinion that truly fast running might be better suited for *another* day.  This enjoyment is enhanced with the seemingly contradictory inevitable burst of speed.

...maybe the word "speed" is a bit generous...

The route itself, by now a fixture of the collective weekly routine, passes underfoot with ease, each root and trench known all too well.

Also known all too well are the endless swarms of gnats, which as the evening progresses will undoubtedly magically transform into a ubiquitous mass of mosquitoes.  We all make the obligatory jokes about caloric and protein intake due to swallowing these gnats, and I was even lucky enough to collect one in the eye that was still there this morning.  (the strange things you notice whilst brushing teeth...)

The wildlife were aware of the perfect conditions as well.  My six or seven rabbit sightings were eclipsed by others' raccoon, turtle, and coyote sightings from the morning.

The late summer is certainly a time to be cherished as a runner.  All too soon, the days will shorten, temperatures will drop, and we'll all be discussing the challenges of winter training.

...which will bring its own set of fascinating observations, no doubt...

One of Those Days

Tuesday was one of those days.

From the start, running felt disjointed, awkward, and otherwise off.  These were amplified by the ever-growing dehydration due to heat and humidity approaching that of a well-maintained sauna.

We all felt it.  Everyone that cared to comment indicated that he or she was having roughly the same experience, which was, needless to say, not exceptionally pleasant.

The truly disturbing part of it all?

That quite a few of us came to the same conclusion that this was exactly what we needed.

Motivational Misery.  Got to love it.

 

 

The Last Annual Vol State Road Race

This coming Thursday, a group of hearty souls will embark upon the Last Annual Vol State Road Race, which is a 500k run, primarily through Tennessee, but at least touching four other states, including Missouri, Kentucky, Alabama, and Georgia.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little jealous of these runners.  The experience they are about to have will undoubtedly be an unforgettable one, and the mere thought of it sends me into a reminiscent state.  As much as I hate to admit it, guys like DeWayne and Prof. Lake were right; the road gets into your blood.  Once you've experienced something like it, there will always be something of an allure, a call from the endless ribbon of road. 

As much as I wish (in a very strange and masochistic sort of way) that I was out there, suffering along with them, I eagerly await the daily updates from a couple of email lists, and I've even heard that, somewhat contrary to the original spirit of the race, there is a page on thefacebook dedicated to the run.

All that said, I suppose the silver lining to missing it this year is that I can always run the Last Annual Vol State Road Race next year...