These entries are a compilation of a couple of really great runs over the last two or so weeks, ranging all along the east coast of the United States. The first is a good reminder of why I love running with a great friend, then my first trail run with my mom on her birthday, and lastly a run on the beach (well, sorta). I hope you enjoy.
Day 220: A Friendly Reminder
Sometimes you do something on your own for so long, that you forget what it feels like having company. I have done many of my runs (and other physical activities) over the last few months by myself. I am not saying this is a bad thing, because while alone I focus more on my form and my foot strike. I can zone out listening to music or work on my breathing. I can think about the past day or month or try to resolve issues and plan. I can day-dream too, which you wouldn’t think is possible, but I found it makes the longer runs more fun sometimes. Running alone can be great. But truth be told, it can get lonely too. I like running with other people; they tell good stories, make for interesting conversational partners, point out things along the route you wouldn’t have seen otherwise, and enhance the experience. Maybe it goes for all things in life, but some people are on a journey for themselves; they want to go out, explore, and try everything without the perceived hassle of another person. Then there are other folks who believe that having another person there only enhances your journey. I am the latter. I would always prefer to share a trip, experience or a moment with someone else. With that said when I do find myself doing something alone, I am not remorseful that I had no one else to share it with. Hence with running, I love running alone, it’s very cathartic. But getting to share a run with someone else sometimes makes it so much better.
Wednesday was looking to be an unpleasant day for running. My mid-day lunch run in the rain, which to be honest I wasn’t enthusiastic about, took a turn for the best when my friend Amy text me in the morning saying she too wanted to go for a run. We planned to reconnect before 1 pm and try to go on a four miler together. Running with Amy is always fun for me. She is the best kind of running partner because she sticks with you at your pace, but pushes you when you get lazy or whiney. We both can run around 9 minutes or faster per mile and do low mileage during the week. She’s also a great friend, so our lunch time runs are very often the equivalent of an after-work girl’s happy hour. We will talk about a wide range of topics, but usually it’s about what we’re up to that week (or re-capping the weeks we’ve missed telling each other about) or developments in our relationships or work-related issues. It’s great to having a running partner like this with whom you can share your time and what’s on your mind. We met up a little after 1 pm, complaining about the weather and deciding whether or not to bring rain jackets. But before long we were changed and heading out to hit the road. Luckily it wasn’t raining, but the air was cool and even a bit crisp, allowing us to settle into an easy 10 minute per mile pace. We talked about the past two weeks and the adventures she had been on, as well as the developments happening in my life. As we shared back and forth zigzagging over curbs and under bushes, I felt grateful for the company and comradery and I started thinking about how lucky I am to have found a friend who is as avid with fitness as I am. I recently found out that only 1% of Americans run a marathon. This struck me as odd, since I see many folks out running daily and have been part of the massive crowds at marathons. But when you think about it, it makes sense. Only 1% of the people in this country will put in the time and effort to train for and then gut out those 26.2 miles. If only 1% of 307,006,550 people go through that experience, then I am very lucky to have found a running partner who not only has been through the same experience I have, but also that I like being around! I realized how lucky it is to find a running/fitness partner who you not only can get along with, but also who has shared in such an intense physical and mental experience. The shear numbers began to stupefy me as we came to the turn around spot down in Ballston. Once there we stretched out our legs for a minute and then booked it back completing 4 miles in about 37 minutes. After returning to the gym and showering, we wished each other a good day and headed our separate ways. I am and will always be grateful that I have such a good friend to run with on those days when the sun is beating down on your back and you need that extra little push forward.
Day 224: The Dirty Sock 10k Trail Race with Mum
For the second to last weekend in August I went home to New York to surprise my mom for her birthday. Through some help and careful planning with my family, I schemed for the weekend. This is no easy task since my mom kept switching her plans around and I was not entirely sure where I was going to end up or how the surprise would go. Finally she decided that she wanted to do a local race, the Babylon Dirty Sock 10K Trail race on her birthday and go to the beach. Three days before I would be heading home I registered for the race, hoping that in the next two days my mom wouldn’t know about, let alone check, the participants list. This was actually to be my first official trail run since the race would be about 70% on the trails through Belmont Lake State Park. With that said, the trails would not be difficult or very technical and thus a nice easy way to start my trail racing/running adventures.
When Sunday morning came we all woke up very early, sleepy-eyed but excited for the race. We drove to the race start and anxiously stood in line waiting to pick up our bibs before the start time of 8am. It was very warm and humid out so as the time passed we began removing layer after layer. I ended up running in only my sports bras and shorts. Standing at the race start line, which I imagine was merely a line in the dirt, my mom and I discussed race pace and trail footing. My inner coach told her to run the race for herself and not get caught up in what other runners do, keep with her pacing, pay attention to when and if she needed the water, watch out for sandy patches, and to have fun. I had promised to stay by her side throughout the race and that was what I intended to do. And then without much more to do, we were off. We moved along at a decent clip doing her walk/run routine that she times along to her music. I focused on keeping my knees high and my footing secure. We talked some, but mainly just when she wanted. I know from experience that there are times when you want your mind to wander and times when you want your mind to be distracted by a conversation. I left that up to her and would throw out pointers as we went. Since it was so humid, I advised that we take a water cup at each “rest” station, mainly to pour over our heads. This is actually more helpful than drinking the water when you are doing a short race in hot humid weather. The water cools off your head and you feel invigorated, even if that only lasts a little while. Soon after we passed the 2 mile marker, it began to rain. This was both a blessing and a curse for us. The rain meant a slightly cooler environment to run in, but it also muddied the trail making one’s footing a little more challenging. However, we persevered and charged on.
The course wound through the horse-back riding trails of Belmont Lake State Park and then on a bit of paved trail around the lake, which made for a great view. At one point we ran past a gaggle of ducks trying to cross the path and head to the lake. One duck at the end just kept looking back and forth as if it were a child looking both ways before crossing the street. After we ran past, I looked back to see the duck still standing at the edge of the paved path still looking back and forth though the coast was clear. So cute. As we ran around the perimeter of the lake we saw ducks, geese, and squirrels all racing about probably thinking, what are these crazy humans doing? After we finished the lake circuit, the trail curved back into the woods and onto the dirt. Now that I have been converted into a trail runner, I really am displeased when I have to run on the road or on sidewalks. The cushioning a trail bed provides vastly outweighs the simplicity of paved road running. Running in the woods or along a trail makes me feel more alive. Out there I truly feel like I have left society, even if I know I am only a hundred feet from a main road. Once we were back in the woods, we traversed a few little hills and some sandy patches. Before we knew it, we were closing in on the finish. The last mile is usually the hardest, but also the one that you are willing to work the hardest for. While I was encouraging my mom to push past the humidity and finish strong, we realized something very cool that motivated the both of us. The race bib numbers we wore were 654 and 854. This was very cool for 2 reasons, first that we both share the better part of our race number and were sharing in this race together. But second and more importantly, at the start of the race my mom was 54 years old. She started at 54, but by the time we were crossing the finish line, she will have turned 55. In that we realized the artistic beauty of the universe for her bib to say “654” and she starts this race commemorating her birthday at the age she was, and runs through this race, giving it her best and leaving behind 54 for 55, a new day and a new year. This was very inspiring and hopefully gave her a good look on all the great things to come this next year. With that we began to hear the race announcer’s voice bellowing through the trees, and we pushed even harder toward the finish.
Whenever I am finishing a race, everything around me gets very quiet. Even races like the Marine Corps Marathon, where there a hundreds of people cheering and yelling, in my head everything is quiet. It’s like this every time and for no particular reason. I have felt differently at the end of each race, some better than others, but it’s always quiet. It’s like the world went to bed and though I see all these people, I don’t hear anything. The same rang true for this 10K. As my mom and I approached the finish line, a quiet silence fell over me and through I was cheering and yelling and smiling, I didn’t hear a thing. Then we passed over the finish line, the spell was broken and I could hear again. I hugged my smiling mom, wished her a very very happy birthday, and gave her a bottle of water. It was another really great run.
Day 231: Virginia Beach Weekend (and a short run)
As one might imagine, I am a huge fan of going on little scenic runs while on a trip. Anytime I travel, I make it a point to go for a run in the area so that I feel like I really experienced the environment and culture of the town. Some people do this through bar hopping or checking out the different shops or museums, I go for a run. I try to check out neighborhoods (as long as I know I won’t get lost) or venture onto local trails. If you have never tried this, it’s definitely worth a go. But also just getting out and begin active on your vacation is just as good. This could include kayaking, bike riding, hiking, or in my case running and jumping in the waves and wandering along the beach. On this particular weekend, my boyfriend and I traveled down to Virginia Beach for some much needed beach time. And as you can sense (I’m sure), I brought along my running shoes in case an opportunity presented itself.
On the last day of our trip, I woke up around 6 am and set out for, what I thought would be, a run along the beach. I was hoping there would be some kind of boardwalk or sidewalk so that I wouldn’t fill my running shoes with sand, but I was up for whatever the area had to offer. That is what exploring your vacation spot is all about. I should probably mention at this point that I don’t have the best sense of direction and I tend to zone out on my runs, thus making it difficult for me to find my way back to wherever I started at the beginning of the run. Anyway so after I changed in the dim darkness of the room, off I went heading down the street toward the sunrise and the sound of the ocean waves crashing along the beach. Within two blocks, I was at the edge of what I’ll call the “hotel line.” It’s kind of like a shore line, but (duh) with hotels. If you have ever been to a beach city along the east coast, they all look the same (i.e. – Daytona Beach, Virginia Beach, Ocean City, Atlantic City, Coney Island, etc.) trashy and touristy. Luckily there was a paved sort of boardwalk for as far as my tired eyes could see in both directions, so I decided I would simply run 15 minutes in one direction and then 15 back. This should equal about 30 minutes and be around 3 miles, since I was planning on doing a 10 minute per mile leisurely run. This sounds all well and good in one’s head, but so often we find that once in practice things often (with me at least) go awry.
The first mile was great; it sailed by as I spent the time letting my mind wander while watching a crisp sun rise against rolling waves. I maintained 10 minutes per mile easily on the flat “boardwalk” watching the day unfold for so many people around me. I saw young children running to the sand with a plethora of toys in their hands, leaping toward the beach with joy in their eyes. I watched adults; mostly parents, carrying beach bags, towels, sun screen, and fold out chairs down to the water’s edge. There were many older couples, some hand in hand with their partner, sun stained after years of beach going. There were life guards prepping for their day. There were homeless men and women sleeping under benches and rattling about with shopping carts. There were plenty of early morning bike riders (not really cyclists), walkers, and people on roller-blades. And then of course there were the other runners. Running in the morning in a new city is just like being at a race. There is so much to see. I love finding runners coming against the grain ahead of me and checking out what they’re wearing, if they are listening to music, how their hands hang, what shoes they’ve donned, and what kind of gear they are sporting. This is my adult version of “Where’s Waldo?”
I love watching other runners. Being a bit of a awkward nerdy writer in high school, I spent a lot of time people watching in the cafeteria and on the trips with my friends to the mall. I would first start with the mental list of the things I had seen and then once I was home, start building (via pen and paper) the social hierarchy of the society in which I resided. These were my first steps as a sociologist, though I didn’t know it then. Then through out my young adult years, I started to be able to piece together the language of the culture with the behaviors. This was absolutely fascinating to me, because ideally, if you understood where things went, why, and how, you could place yourself Exactly where you would like to be. Seem a little deep for a simple boardwalk run? Yeah, I know. But I think most people do this, they just do it subconsciously. If one is interested in a subject, they do research on it, become educated about it, and then have the capacity to experience it. This is how it is for me with running. I watch other runners and then began to place them where they seem to fit in my “running world” model. By looking at the different types of shoes they wear, if they have a water belt or Camelbak, the colors and material type of their clothes, their eyewear, etc. I can make deductions about their running style and level, racing experience, and more. I am sure by now you are thinking that all of this is kind of strange, but it has a purpose. I don’t just watch people and judge. I watch and evaluate. Someday I want to be a running coach; being a good coach is about being able to see the different and specific traits in each runner and guide them to the best plan and options for them. How do you do this? By watching people run (and by taking classes to learn the fundamentals of coaching, running, sports nutrition, etc. and I know, I’m getting there).
So as I was running along and zoning out watching other runners and the waves crashing into the shore, I began to realize I had no idea where I was. I looked down at my watch and realized about 18 minutes had passed (I’m at around mile 2) and I missed my turn around point at 15 minutes. So I started back, now running along side the sunrise, looking for some kind of indicator of where I started. This is around the time that I started to get annoyed at myself for not paying closer attention to the details of the buildings and the sidewalk where I entered the “boardwalk.” As I continued to run forward, passing the people I find most intriguing and starting to worry that Ashley will wake up and wonder where I’ve gone off to; I see a giant statue of something. I started to think, have I seen this before? Did I see it when I started running? I know I didn’t pass it, so my exit must be closer to this giant thing. As I get closer I see it is a statue of Poseidon, and I realize I definitely did not pass this. So I turn around and start to head back. After a few more minutes, I decide that I will just head in two blocks and then should be able to get my bearings. I did just this, knowing for sure that the cross section of street that I was passing was not near the hotel. On the second block in, Pacific Ave, I figured out where I was. I was about 5 blocks away from the hotel. So in total, I probably ran some where’s around 4 miles that morning with a lot of stopping, walking, and looking around like a very lost tourist. However, this is the magic of running: getting lost and then finding your way.
In case you were wondering, some other highlights of our weekend trip included: a southern classic breakfast of Waffle House buttermilk pancakes and delicious crispy bacon, a long car ride full of talking, singing along to the radio, and laughing with my feet up on the dashboard, the Virginia Beach Aquarium where we tried to find and name each of the fish in the tanks, create our own “earthquake” in front of a seismograph machine, pretended to get eaten by the giant shark figurine, saw a huge komodo dragon, hung out by the massive shark tank, then getting eaten alive at what I can only imagine was a mosquito preserve, randomly stumbling upon a beautiful long strip of less trafficked beach, body surfing and laying out in the sun for hours, “hiking” the trails at the Sandy Point Wildlife Refuge, and eating tasty seafood dinners. Needless to say, it was a really great trip.
Safe travels and runs friends!
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