Seattle Sunshine

This is mostly just to post some photos.  I was in Seattle for a very quick 2 days but had a fantastic run around Green Lake.  The kind of morning that you wish you could just run forever, because it feels like you can.

A cup of beer on a bench on a ferry.

Seattle at dusk after sushi.

Aurora bridge on morning run.

Green Lake

This Low

The good times, seem good enough.  I’m gonna try writing about the bad times, and hope to look back and say, “see, it wasn’t that bad”.  My running confidence is at an all time low right now.  I’m less than eight weeks from Western States, and right now, I feel like it’s going to swallow me whole and spit out my bones.  April should have been 300 miles, it was 142.

My left ankle is probably at 80%, but my right one actually hurts more then the left now.   I’ve messed up my right side pretty good, probably from compensating.  My shoulder hurts, bad.  It really doesn’t affect my running but it is another constant pain.  MRI reveals a partial posterior and superior tear of the labrum and tendonosis of the sub scapularis and supraspanitus.  Not really sure what that means, but what I heard was, “you hurt it, it didn’t heal well, you may need surgery but you can try physical therapy first”.

At the time I wrote the above, I had stopped doing the exercises I was supposed to be doing, hadn’t been to chiro or massage in several weeks and had stopped worrying about what I ate.  My general mood was, “what difference does it make, I keep getting hurt anyway”.  In the midst of this pity party I said the wrong (or right) words to myself.  I said, “even if I do all these things, I’m not going to get back to perfect in time”.  Then I thought, “when have you ever been ‘perfect’”.  Something always hurts a little, sometimes even a lot.  And with that, my pity party was, intellectually at least, over.  I started doing my exercises, got adjusted, got a massage, started eating better.  And within a few days, running was actually fun again.

A 20 mile night run last weekend was a bit of a struggle finishing at 2:00 AM, but 33 miles this weekend went really well.  I can still let myself get freaked out by how little time there is before Western States but for now, I’m trying to follow the best advice I’ve received so far.  “I think you have got to think about doing the best you can in any given week and let it take you where it takes you”.

10 miles down, 23 to go to get back to here.

It’s been quite a while since I logged 60 miles in a week but hit 63 last week.  Now I just need to string a bunch of those together.  I meant to include some links and complete endorsements above but will do it all here at the end instead.

Dr. Zohra Campbell for chiropractic care and yoga instruction and Kristel Wonderly for massage at Indigo Wellness Center have been fantastic.  I’m also very impressed with Jeff Blanchard, physical therapist at Therapeutic Associates.  And lastly, Cafe 22, whose only drawback is they don’t serve alcohol.

Cafe 22 burger after 33 miles!

Ups and Downs

It’s been an up and down 9 weeks.  So much so, in fact, that it’s kept me from updating this blog.  Before I could finish writing about something good that happened, something bad would happen and I wouldn’t feel like writing about something good.  Then, just as I was ready to start writing about the bad stuff, something good would happen and I’d be right back in the same boat, only backwards ish.

So, with the help of my running log, and notes jotted or emails sent to friends. Here goes the last 9 weeks in semi abbreviated form.

5 Miles Per Bride, March 5, 2011

For several weeks, I could feel myself needing a long, point to point, run.  I hadn’t been over marathon distance since October, and the loops of my local runs were starting to wear on me.  My favorite part of long distance running is getting somewhere.  From the minute I signed up for Pacific Rim 24 hour run, which is a one mile loop course on March 19th, I knew I needed a destination run to offset that craziness.  The best destinations for me are always food and/or beer, so when I went looking for something 30 to 40 miles away, the destination became obvious, Seven Brides Brewery and Taproom.  Seven Brides Brewing is a great story:

“Several years ago, three dads and two uncles would gather on a Saturday in one of their garages to master the art of home brew. Before long, the salesman of the group said, “You know, this is good enough to sell.” So the friends set out to do just that.
The name “Seven Brides” actually came from the dads’ kids. Between the three of them, they have only daughters. With the rising cost of wedding nuptials, the guys decided they needed to sell enough beer to pay for their daughters weddings. Each of the girls has a beer named after her.”

One of those “dads” was Nathaniel and Jewelia’s chemistry teacher in high school, Phill Knoll.  Phill is also, I might add, a very good runner.

Shannon, Tracy and Paul at mile 8.

I got very lucky on weather, 6 hours of running and about 10 rain drops, total, on my head.  I ran the first 8 miles by myself, then met Paul, Tracy and Shannon at Oak Knoll Golf Course.  We picked up Denice and Jane 5 miles later in West Salem.  I had some form of company all the way to mile 22.  It really helped having a 14 mile distraction.  I stayed pretty steady the whole 35.  I didn't have much spirit for the uphills, in fact it was pretty laughable how quickly I "gave up" on some of them.  

Seven Brides! Mile 35.

I had estimated finishing at Seven Brides Tap Room between 12:30 and 1:00 and pulled in at 12:42.  Two young ladies were waiting at the door with a beer and water, saying "Are you Chris?  Phil (Knoll) thought you might need this"  Doesn't get much better than that!

Have to drink water too!

Maybe it was the distance, maybe I was just really hungry....but at the time, I thought that was one of the best burgers I ever had!

Fall Down Go Boom, March 9, 2011

Post crash

McDonald Forest has been a perpetual source of adventure for me and this night was no different.  It was misty, foggy, wet and dark, so pretty much like the rest of this Winter/Spring.  Coming down the mountain I was running faster than I could see and I’m blind as a bat at night.  While I was on the main trail and I knew the footing was ok, even if I couldn't see it, I could trust it.  Once I hit the technical section, I slowed to what seemed a safe pace given what I could see.  I was probably no more than 200 meters from being out of the tricky shit and stepped on a root I never saw.  My ankle turned and I went flying head first down the hill.  My head lamp ended up in the brush, fortunately the light stayed on and I was able to find it.  I was pretty messed up.  I couldn’t put any weight on my left foot.  I banged up my right knee, elbow and shoulder pretty bad.  To make matters worse, my already messed up shoulder made using crutches almost impossible, but more on my shoulder later.

Looks worse in bad light!

Pacific Rim 24 Hour, March 19, 2011

10 days after my crash, I was feeling well enough to give Pacific Rim 24 hour a try.  I did a test 10 miler the Wednesday before and everything felt good enough.  I had three basic goals and some things I wanted to work on.  My three goals in no specific order were:  Run between 100k and 80 miles, stay on course for as much of the 24 hours as I could without going so deep in the well that I needed a long recovery.  These goals were, in some ways, complimentary and contradictory.    I went through the first 40 miles pretty comfortably and was well ahead of the pace I wanted.  At this point I realized that I was either going to hit the 100k to 80 mile range way too soon, or would eventually be tempted by 100.  So I decided to take a break.  Physically, this hurt me more than it helped me.  Of course my little nap was curled up in the back seat of a sedan, but more on new car selection later.  My back really tightened up during the break. I got it loose again after the 40 mile break but took another one at 100k and it never did loosen up after that one. I decided 70 miles seemed like a nice round number in between 62 and 80 and that by virtue of the 2 breaks I accomplished the “staying out there goal” too.  My legs felt pretty good and I was still able to run at 70 miles. It was pretty humbling and inspiring watching the leaders go past me every 5 or 6 miles. By midnight there were probably less than 20 people still on the course and they were all studs.  The thing about a timed event on a short loop is that you are routinely getting passed by people that are in better shape than you, not necessarily more talented just better trained. It's pretty humbling to watch it go by, again and again.

Awesome picture Jeanne took of me crossing the bridge near midnight.

I Handled food and water really well. Even peed 4 times.  I still need some work on early pacing but am getting better and better.

Contacts, March 22, 2011

My crash in the forest confirmed one thing for me, my luck with running while not really being able to see, might have run out.  So, thanks to Dr. Huggett I am now an everyday wearer of contacts.  So far, so good.  I should have done this a long time ago!

Shoulder, April 4, 2011

My right shoulder has bothered me since hurting it throwing a towel over the shower rod in a motel in Pasadena, while there for my sisters wedding.  I finally broke down and went to my doctor.  His preliminary diagnosis is a torn labrum, but x rays MRI’s and Orthopedist still to come.  Surgery, if necessary can wait until after Western States.

Fall Down Go Boom the Sequel, April 10, 2011

Peterson’s Ridge 40 miler, became an 8 miler for me.  Stepped on a rock and sprained the same ankle again.  I tried to see if hobbling it out would help but quit at 8 miles.

Fall Down Go Boom III, April 23, 2011

I was recovering nicely from sprain 2.  I ran a pretty solid 17 miles the next weekend so I decided a guided trip through “the Maze” of MacDonald Forest would be a good idea.  Another step on another rock decided otherwise.

Very cool path during 17 miles in Bellevue, WA

I’ve got myself to current.  I’m taking a few days off to let my ankle calm down and think through some training decisions.  I’m really in need of some positive running experiences right now!

Eventual Milestones

I’ve been debating the merits of a treadmill at home for years.  For the majority of my years running, I’ve had a gym membership.  This gave me the opportunity to run on a treadmill when necessary.  “When” necessary really is necessary has also been something I’ve debated for years.  Coming back from an injury is a good time for treadmill running, as you are never miles away from being done, if something goes wrong.  Really, really nasty weather might be another, though I’m skeptical of this.  Ice is probably the only weather that should be used as an excuse for running indoors in the Willamette Valley, and we don’t get ice that often.  Running while sick is another decent reason.  I don’t get sick very often, but when I do, with the exception of maybe the first day or two of a fever, I go through several days of too sick to run outdoors but not too sick to run indoors.  So, really, this is probably not more than 10 days a year total.  That isn’t enough to justify a gym membership, which is why I canceled mine.  It certainly isn’t enough to justify purchasing a treadmill for the house, which is exactly what I just did!  

Why?  I was sick last week.  I came back from Vegas with Smoking Redneck Spotted Fever.  It drove me crazy to not run for 5 days, that’s part of it.  Jeanne will use it for walking when the weather is bad outdoors, that’s another part.  And then there is the “solving the morning running, bathroom dilemma”  reason, which may end up being the perfect reason to get one.  Time will tell.  I’ve added a new “surface” to my running log.  I started this year tracking surfaces run on.  So that I could see how many trail miles I logged.  I added a treadmill surface, though I really hope I don’t use it too often.  So, to date for 2011, after my 5 day hiatus, I’m at 288 road miles, 36 trail miles, 21gravel road miles and 7 treadmill miles.  This brings me to almost 14,000 miles since I started running.  I should pass that milestone this weekend.  All of this has me pondering things like “can treadmill miles really be counted in distance, since you don’t go anywhere” and “is the impact of body weight minimized on a treadmill, since you aren’t propelling your own body weight forward” and so on.

Mobile test

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Wrestling With What Defines Us

I didn’t run this morning.  It was on my schedule, 3 in the morning, 5 in the evening, a nice easy day after a tough weekend.  I felt really good after my biggest week and weekend so far this year.  It was a normal morning.  I woke up at 5:45, checked the weather (on my phone, which is also my alarm clock), 40 degrees and raining.  No real response other than thinking about what to wear.  My closet has a window, the blinds are always closed.  I don’t know why I opened them to look outside, I never do this.  Once I did, there was no getting dressed.  I told myself I’d make it up tonight, but I felt cowardly all day.

Mile 1 from Kings Valley Highway

My penance tonight, was 38 degrees and raining with wind.  That seemed about right and fair.  I took off for the Baskett Slough, with a wind at my back and light rain.  

I was really pleased with my weekend.  16 miles on Friday and 20 miles on Saturday and then a weekend at the coast with very fresh feeling legs.  I ran out and back on Saturday, very close to dead even splits.  As I was coming back on a country road just outside of town, traffic seemed unusually heavy for a Saturday morning.  As I got closer to the high school, I figured out why.  A local high school boy, Charley Engelfried, had died last week while wrestling.  He pinned his opponent, was declared the winner and then collapsed as he was leaving the mat.  He was pronounced dead soon after that, the cause, an enlarged heart.  I was running passed the high school, 15 minutes before the memorial service.  It seemed surreal to be nearly 50 years old, 18 easy miles into 20, running passed those on their way to mourn the death of a 17 year old boy.

Mile2

The wind was really starting to pick up as I turned down the gravel road.  The ducks are starting to pair up in the Baskett Slough, I disturbed them 2 at a time today.  

Mile 3, entering the Baskett Slough

 The galvanizing force of a child dying is sobering.  Even people that didn’t know Charley, and I didn’t, speak with reverence when talking about “the wrestler”.  As I was running away from the high school, I wondered if he considered himself “a wrestler”?  I ran passed a house where my daughter Jewelia, who was 13 at the time, sold her first violin.  The parents were buying it for their daughter.  She had never played a violin.  The parents didn’t play either.  I wasn’t sure how they would, in any way, evaluate the quality and value of the instrument, so I told them what we payed for it, how long Jewelia had played it etc.  The parents asked if Jewelia would play it for them, she did, and they bought it.  I wondered if the girl still played the violin, I wondered if she ever played it.  I wondered if she considered herself “a violinist”?

A little passed mile 4, Baskett Butte trailhead.

The rain started coming down heavier as I started up the trail to the top of Baskett Butte, and as I climbed ice started to mix with rain.  As the trail turned toward the South, I could feel the wind that would be in my face the whole way home.  At the top of the Butte, the ice in the rain, driven by the wind stung as it hit my face.

Mile 5, the top of Baskett Butte, looking toward home.

It seems there should be a difference between what defines us and how we are defined.  For years, as a child, Jewelia had a hand written motivational phrase pinned on her wall.  “We can’t know who we are, until we know what we can do”.  I don’t know who said it, I’ve googled it many times with no success.  Being “The Wrestler” didn’t define Charley but I hope the hard work and discipline of wrestling helped him define himself.  Music doesn’t define Jewelia, but I know that every aspect of her is influenced by her love and commitment to her music.  Lawyer, father, salesman, artist, astronaut, runner are all just descriptions, aspects of us all.  It’s our pursuit of these things, our finding out what we can do, that tells us who we are.

I planned this run to be hard coming back.  I stopped to take pictures on the way out, with the wind at my back and daylight still in the sky.  Now, with darkening clouds in front of me, and a strong wind in my face I ran strong home. Attacking the hill coming out of the Baskett Slough, checking my watch at the 2 miles to home mark.  “If I hammer it, I’m home by 6:15”.  Tonight, thanks in part to thoughts of my reluctance to run in the morning and thoughts of Charley and Jewelia and everything that defines us, I ran well.  Tonight, I was a runner.

3 Nights In the Forest

Western States will have many elements that I have very little experience with. First, there’s the 100 miles, more on that later.  I do very little trail running, very little hill running and very little night running.  So, when I found out about a group of runners in Corvallis that run up McCulloch Peak, in McDonald Forest, and then back down. I thought, trails, hills, night, Wednesdays in Corvallis, that sounds perfect.  Ah, the best laid plans.....

Night 1
I’d been nursing a tight lower back for a few days, I had voices in my head and outside my head telling me I probably shouldn’t, but the emails inviting me to come run seemed so nice and genuine and, I'm stubborn and self centered so I decided to run anyway.  The "group" meets at the Oak Creek Trail Head at 5:30 on Wednesdays and hikes/runs up to the top of McCulloch Peak and then back down.  I misjudged how long it would take to get there and arrived at 5:40 which is dark!  There were several cars in the parking lot, and only one trail visible, so I figured they may have a 5 to 6 minute head start on me.  I'll take off and either catch them on the way up or meet them on the way back.  About a quarter mile up the trail I came to a “T” with trail going in either direction, I guessed left, went another half mile ish and came to a fork, I guessed left again and ran for a little bit until the trail turned into a bushwhacked trail at best! “This can't be right” I ran back down to the fork and took off right.  It might be worth noting, at this point, that not only was it pitch black but very foggy, and there were glowing eyes in the woods.  I went up the right fork for a while and the trail just ends.  I see a little bushwhacked trail and follow it for a while but it's really overgrown.  It seemed doubtful that 5 to 8 people ran through here, but I got down on my hands and knees to examine the tracks in the mud just to be sure.  Deciding they hadn’t gone this way I turned around and ran all the way back to the original “T”.  I remembered that there was a little kiosk at the trail head, and thinking maybe there was a map and that I was sure it was less than a quarter mile back to the trail head, I headed back.  Yes, there was a map, but, it's really small, behind glass with condensation and I have no glasses on.  There was no way I could read it. I run back up to the “T” and head right, which is slightly downhill, get to another fork, one way goes up, the other down.  I choose up!  For the first time I'm now on a serious uphill, with switchbacks, so I'm now convinced I'm on the right trail and start to calculate how long it should have taken them to get to the top and at what point I should see them coming down and give myself a time to run to.  I get to that time and still haven't seen a soul.  Well, I’ve seen eyes, so, without departing into an meaningless discussion on whether woodland critters have souls, I decide to run for another 5 minutes and if I still haven't seen anyone, I’ll head back and call it good.  5 more minutes and no sign of anyone, 'cept the eyes in the woods.  I turn around and run the downhill switchbacks in the foggy black, successfully making it back to trailhead.  No falls, a few stumbles, no running off a cliff and no badger attacks, and also, no cars in the parking lot except mine.  So, by process of elimination, they must have gone right and then right....and then who knows?

I did get and hour and 40 minutes of peaceful solitude, running with the woodland creatures.....just not quite they way I'd planned it.

Night 2

I made sure I wasn't late to meet the Corvallis, run in the forest at night, group.  I was about 10 minutes early, and introduced myself to each as they arrived, 10 of us in all, plus 4 dogs.  They were all good looking runners, and very nice and friendly.  A few from the group are running Western States this year.  We started off down a forest service road, NOT on the trail that I started on last week, so I had no chance of ever going the right way last week.  The ascent, for them, was a mixture of walking at a pace I couldn't match and running.  I ended up running much more of it than the others because I just couldn't walk that fast.  1,600 feet of elevation in 4 miles was a grunt, to say the least, but the clear skies and a full moon were amazing.  On the way up I noticed that the batteries in my headlamp were dying and the light was getting dim, it wasn't really an issue going up because the pace was slower and I could use the light from others mixed with mine to see my footing.  We took about a 5 minute break at the summit, looked at the stars and the city lights, which was really cool, then headed down.  It didn't take long on the descent to realize I had a problem.  A, they were flying town the mountain, B, I couldn't see well enough to keep up.  I was staying within about a 100 meters, occasionally losing sight around turns.  At one point on the way down I saw lights in the woods to the right of me at about the same elevation.  I remember thinking that if that was them, they must be further ahead of me than I thought, because the trail must have turned back somewhere, so I picked up the pace as much as I dared.  My light was almost dead by this point.  The next 15 minutes was a surreal combination of, "I don't remember hearing a creek beside the trail on the way up.......oh, that stump looks familiar.......I don't remember a deep muddy section like on the way up.....I'm heading downhill and obviously east.....I'm at least going the right direction".....and then, an orange gate and a road.  Sulpher Springs road to be exact.  I have no idea where I missed the turn, although it was obviously just before I saw the “lights in the woods".  There were two houses a little ways down the road, so I headed that direction to see if I could get directions to the trail head.  Having made it to something resembling civilization, heading back into the forest didn't seem like a wise idea.  The first house I came to was inhabited by a very nice man named Gene, who was a retired Timber Faller, I'm not sure what that is, exactly, but he mentioned it about 24 times, so I remembered.  I asked how to get back to the forestry station and he said it was about 4 miles and gave directions that really didn't seem correct.  As I was debating following, what seemed like flawed, directions or heading back into the forest he offered to drive me to the trail-head, which I took him up on.  This meant several stories about logging in the old days and asking me if I knew several people, I didn't know any of the names he asked about.  By the time we got to the trail head, all of the cars were still there as were a few of the runners, they seemed genuinely relieved to see me safe and informed me that a group of 6 had headed back out to look for me.  My first instinct was to head out looking for them, but was wisely advised to stay put.  I thanked them and told them they could go, that I would wait for the rescue party to return.  

Then things got really strange.  2 guys with mountain bikes showed up, they were heading into the forest, on bikes, at 8:00 PM.  We asked them to let the search party know that I was back safe, if they ran into them.  Then a giant semi truck comes pulling up this dead end single lane
road, explaining that he was coming from Albany, looking for hwy 99 and got lost, making my getting lost look damn near normal.  This was a HUGE truck, the kind that looks like it could house a small family in the cabin.  He then proceeded to spend the next half hour trying to turn the truck around using the driveway of the forestry station.  There was no way he was going to make it without a bunch of cars being moved.  Cars that belonged to the people in the search party.  Eventually 4 of the search party of 6 returned, explaining that all had figured out that I had run down to Sulpher Springs road so the other 2 were going to go that far looking for me and then head back.  We were able to move enough cars for the truck to get turned around and he, at least,  was rescued, though I have no confidence that he'll get where he hopes to go.  The 4 left a note on one of the cars of the 2, said that they were heading home, and that I should feel comfortable doing the same.  I had told Jeanne I should be back to my car by about 7:15, the trail head is out of cell range so she didn't get any word from me til almost 8:45.  She was, justifiably, worried.  I owe a huge thank you to everyone, but especially Frank and John, who not only stayed out on a very cold night looking for me, but were very gracious in responding to my apology email and inviting me out to try it again.

Night 3

I know this isn’t very suspenseful but, I made it!  I didn’t get lost, I didn’t fall down and it was so much fun.  We started out in heavy fog, which makes the headlamp less of a light and more of a vapor machine, but about half way up we rose above the clouds and it was clear, warm and unbelievably beautiful.  As it turns out, the trail that I thought I missed last week, wasn’t even correct, I actually got off course even before then, so had I decided to double back, I may not have figured it out.  This is, and will be, a great weekly workout for me in preparation for Western States, provided I can stay unlost until then.