Trail Tales

So, I've decided to tackle an ultramarathon. Ultras come in several distances--25 kilometers, 50K, 50 miles, 100K. Since I'm planning on running a road marathon in October, the Empire State Marathon, right here in little ol' Syracuse, a 25K will seem anticlimactic. So a 50K--31 miles--it is! Luckily, there already exists an ultra in Syracuse, the Green Lakes Endurance Runs, held every August at lovely Green Lakes State Park.

So I'm considering August 2013 for my maiden ultra, which provides plenty of time to train.

Which leads me to the point of this blog--the trail system at Green Lakes. I took a break from the Mountain Goat training runs (that race is May 6) on Saturday, April 21, to tackle the 8 miles or so that one loop of the Green Lakes ultra course entails. It was a cool, damp day, and I dressed like I would for an 8-mile run in 50-degree weather.

Unfortunately, conditions deteriorated quickly--it got colder and damper--and I was soon too chilled to really enjoy myself. Then there was the confusing map I had printed, in color, and carried with me, confident that I could find my way. Once I made my way up the steep hill from Round Lake, I encountered a confusing intersection and pulled out my map. A helpful hiker happened by: "Do you know where you want to go?" I couldn't resist in my answer: "Sure, I know where I want to go; I just don't know how to get there." He pointed me in the proper direction, really trying to assist me--"It's a right, and then a quick left and then another right. . ."

At one point I called my husband, who asked if I was all right. I was fine, I said, and, while not technically lost, still having difficulty finding my way. Stubborn is one of my strengths, or not, so I kept at it, following the printout right out of the state park and onto private property that was labeled with a "No Trespassing" sign.

Damn!

I turned around and headed back down the steep hill I had climbed, found another trail which again led to private homes, headed back out and then tried yet again. After having run for an hour and starting to feel it (trail running, while not so jarring on the lower body, carries with it its own set of challenges, and my legs were starting to complain). So I headed back out and made my way back to the beginning of the series of trails (those above Round Lake).

The map showed a less-serpentine route at the back end of the prescribed route, so I took that for a few miles, hoping to link up to where I had gone wrong. Those legs just weren't going to cooperate, however, and I headed back down. Fatigue (and hunger; not dehydration--I had plenty of water and Gatorade) won out over my obstinate nature.

Here's the issue I discovered with the trail map vs. the trails that map outlined: it was confusing! The map labeled the trails by their name--Deer Run Trail, Old Growth Trail, etc. The trails are labeled with small colored signs and corresponding blazes on trees. So. . . I'm out there looking for the Deer Run Trail, and all I see is yellow (the label I discovered after comparing the maps).

When I got back to civilization I studied both the race map and the state park map; I'll be damned if I can figure out how the green trail, which should have linked with the orange trail on the backside of the route, wound up with me, scratching my head, on posted private property.

So next time I head out that way, maps in hand, I will run this route in reverse. Eventually I should remember exactly where I need to go.

Now if only the miserable damp weather we've had for most of late April will be gone by then, so I can adequately warm up while I'm out there.

30 Minutes or Bust

So. . . I ran my first race of the 2012 season on March 25, a 5K in Pulaski, School House to White House. Not only did I want to avoid familiar eyes (thus the 45-minute drive from home), but the race benefited a worthy cause--the efforts of the Pulaski High School marching band to raise enough money to play at the White House on July 4, 2014. Oh, and I did see a few folks I know--John and Brandi Ferrini--but that was it. I had to chuckle at the guy wearing the Ohio State sweatshirt, a day after the Buckeyes ended SU Orangemen dreams of the Final Four.
Realistic after surgery on both feet, but also eager to really break a sweat, I agreed with my husband when he asked if he should look for me at the finish in 28 minutes. That's a 9-minute mile pace, give or take, and a reasonable goal so early in my training. My warmup wasn't the greatest--the pinching at the "hardware" sight of swelling in my foot continues (not to worry, everything is fine; it's just scar tissue)--but it doubled as a half-mile fun run that I did alongside my 8-year-old. I popped a second Aleve before race time and was off!

It's hard to see, but the timer says 28:37.

This race was cool for several reasons--I always enjoy running in the villages of upstate New York, people on porches or in their driveways on lawnchairs are unfailingly encouraging, and, even though it was chilly and damp, crowd support actually was substantial. There are a lot of corners in this race, and you go into a neighborhood twice--to be expected, I suppose, because if you run in one direction for two miles, you've likely left the village of Pulaski!
Halfway through I was passed a woman I just knew was in my age group--hey, one thinks of these things when one is as competitive as this one is. I tried for a mile to pass her, but it just didn't happen.
Had I succeeded, I would have snagged second place in the age group (50-59) instead of third. Naturally, I looked at the first place age group finisher and I would have likely run that. . . a few years ago! So, I proudly placed third out of 13.
Now, I am more than happy with my finish, that I finished, and that I finished under my 30-minute goal. It's a far cry from my best 5K--22.21 at the Festival of Races. But, just the day before I had told myself I would probably never run an 8-minute mile again. Well, hey there, self: A 9:13 pace with a foot that was nagging me for 3.1 miles gives me hope that perhaps 25-minute 5Ks once again lie in my future.
So I'm onto the next: still contemplating a 5K on April 28 that benefits a daycare center, but all signed up for the 10-mile Mountain Goat Run, and just now registered for the Du the Lakes Duathlon (run-bike-run), May 12 at Green Lakes State Park.
I am thrilled that my race season has begun--I'm looking for a more satisfying year, certainly, than 2011 when my foot injury ruled the roost. And I'm looking for a half-marathon to run. Ideas?

Stretch Armstrong

Over this past weekend, my unlimited month of yoga classes at O Yoga Studio, for which I paid $35 through Living Social, expired. I am in mourning. I love yoga more than running, and everyone knows how much running means to me.

I have had the privilege to explore yoga classes at a variety of studios in the Syracuse area--O Yoga, CNY Yoga, Fitness & Dance of CNY, CNY Healing Arts Center and Morningside Yoga. And I have been able to participate in a good number of these classes with my daughter, who is now 22. In fact, it was a character trait I noticed in her that led me to sign us up for classes at Morningside, on Westcott Street. When she was 10 or so I realized that she was stressing out over school. The upper grades of elementary school are always tough; combine that with a conscientious student, and you have a kid who needs some coping skills. I thought some calming yoga breathing would serve her well.

Fast-forward 10 years and I am pleased that she continues her yoga practice, realizing that it is an incredible stress-reliever. Besides, it's something we can do together, mother and daughter.

While I enjoy yoga for that reason, my main purpose in doing yoga is for the flexibility, which leads to improved athletic performance and less likelihood of developing injury. That's the overarching goal, but that's not what keeps me returning to the mat at least once a week (more when I have unlimited access to a trained yogi!). In addition to the flexibility benefits resulting from a regular yoga practice, the activity brings with it psychological advantages as well, mostly related to self-esteem.

No matter the studio, no matter the class, every yogi I have practiced with repeats variations of the same mantra: "Honor yourself. Do only what is available to you today. This is your practice; make it what you want. Don't worry about what anyone else is doing in this class: it's not a competition." Thus freed to modify the basic poses you'll feel incredibly liberated! If high crescent lunge is tough on your back foot, drop down on your back knee. If chaturanga feels incredibly challenging today, do knees-chest-and-chin instead. The strength will eventually come, if you continue to practice.

I also like the tradition of setting an intention for your practice--whatever it may be. You can use the 75 minutes on your mat as a chance to work through a particularly vexing problem, come to a conclusion about a difficult home situation, riddle through a work conundrum. I also use running to do that, so, paired with yoga, I often solve the problem even quicker (joking!).

There are several yoga poses I just don't like, mostly because I struggle in them--chair pose always burns my quads, cobra is so fussy with its rule that you have to keep your feet together. But here's another aspect of yoga that makes it so meaningful for me. The poses you struggle with are those whose benefits you need the most. Patience has never been a strong suit for me, but if I stay calm, work with my body wherever it is on whatever day I am practicing yoga, those poses take on greater meaning for me. I suppose it's like training for a marathon--some days it's a struggle logging those miles, but having crossed the finish line is a huge accomplishment. Being able to hold pigeon in a calm, beneficial way, being able to flow through a Vinyasa class from Warrior I to Warrior II to Dancing Warrior--all are steps in the right direction of greater self-awareness.

I urge everyone to try a yoga class--most studios have drop-in rates. While you may not like it, I guarantee you will step off your mat with a better understanding of yourself and your place in the world. Really! All from 60 minutes or so of stretching. I'm the first to look at saving a dollar here and there, which explains why the last three yoga studios I visited were the result of a coupon offer. Still, there's nothing wrong with checking some yoga DVDs out of the library, and seeing which works for you, or not. If you just don't like it, there's always Pilates!

Love Story

As a seasoned journalist, I am adept at the art of eavesdropping. This morning, while dressing for work after swimming 2000 meters at the pool, some ladies congregated apart from me. One woman, clearly in her 70s and in amazing physical shape, started talking about Valentine's Day, and the 14th as a date of import to her and her husband. "We met on July 14; we were married on Sept. 14. We celebrate every special occasion with a bottle of champagne--the solstice, the equinox. . . "

Apparently, this woman and her husband have a liberal definition of special and if it keeps their marriage alive, so what? On every wedding anniversary--she says it'll be 50 years this year--she and her husband read out loud old love letters they sent each other starting a half-century ago. Or they'll read greeting cards they've exchanged over the years. "Some times I have to read his letters to me, because he usually starts crying," I heard her say.

All I can say is, "Wow!"

Some people go their whole lives, even their married lives, without experiencing such devotion. It was wonderful to hear that marriage can be alive and well--if the two involved in that marriage keep it alive and well.

Another conclusion I reached from this is, in these days of electronic communication and text messages, lasting tributes to a shared romantic relationship are fleeting. Few people write letters, actual letters, these days--you know the ones you fold neatly into an envelope that receives a stamp? That kind of letter.

While we have never exchanged letters, my husband, Charlie Bowers, and I have a collection of greeting cards and small pieces of paper traded over the years--nothing close to 50, but that doesn't diminish their impact. Some cards get prominent places of display in my office, but most are tucked away safely. Also in my office is a collection of now-dried roses he has given me on anniversaries and Valentine's days.

The cards could--heck, even should--be brought out of storage to be shared once again, like the couple whose love life (or a small portion of their love life) I heard about in a locker room at a city pool at 7:30 in the morning.

So Happy Valentine's Day, everyone, because every day can be Valentine's Day and you shouldn't wait until Feb. 14 each year to show your loved one how much he or she is loved.

I Like Bike

I took my first bike ride of the season today. The weather this winter has been crazy, and I've been feeling sorry for myself while 50 degree days passed me by (perfect for running) and I couldn't even fit my swollen left foot into my running shoe! Last night I decided that if it were above 40 degrees in the morning, I would get on my bike. I checked Time and Temperature (a local service Syracusans will recognize), and Mr. Computerman said 53 degrees. I looked outside, it said rain. Ugh. But I carried on, and am glad I did.
All my blinking lights on, four layers on top, plus my reflective vest, two on bottom, gloves and headband under my helmet, I headed out.
Now, my left foot is still slightly swollen and I wake up with occasional ankle stiffness. After a few miles, the ankle loosened up, I felt warm (though wet) and I was on my way to Baldwinsville.
The route I chose is 18 miles long, enough, I thought, for the first time out. I came home drenched, covered in grit (me and my bike), but so very happy that I had not let the rain deter me, and that I was able to bike the entire length. My bike computer wasn't working (I bet the layoff killed the battery). But today wasn't about speed, or really about the distance; it was about the fact that on Feb. 1 in Syracuse, New York, it was actually warm enough with hardly a trace of snow to ride a bike. That, and the fact, that I was able to do it. It's a good sign as I build toward my first triathlon, the Cooperstown Tri, May 27.