Wednesday, March 31, 2010

So Far, A Wet Week...

This has been a pretty wet dreary week.

Monday
It rained.  It was cold.  I whined.  I rode my bike on the trainer for 45 minutes.

Tuesday
It rained.  It was cold. I had the blahs, but also had a short run on my schedule, so I slapped on my brand new Road ID and headed out the door. Check it out.
By the way, if you guys don't have one of these, get one, it is a worthy investment.  Thanks KC for your recent great contest that made me decide to get one.

I wasn't really very motivated to run really, but I got out the door and ran my favorite half mile section of trail  that takes me along the Kennebec River, onto the Appalachian Trail (AT), then back to Route 201.  It is one of those runs that I wish went on for 20 miles, but unfortunately only goes about half a mile.  SO I need to run around on Route 201 for a while to log my planned mileage before finishing up with a half mile of bliss, but I always find the time to do it.

From here, AT hikers only have about 140 miles left of their 2,175 mile hike - 100 miles of which are the some of the most remote miles of the entire trail.

Wednesday
It rained. Actually, it poured.  It was cold.

This was a planned workout day off because it was a long work day, which generally is a workout anyway.   I was up at 4:30am and on the road by 5am to meet with some guys to spend the day outside doing some forestry work for the Penobscot Indians.  I won't bore you with the details, but basically we are establishing, measuring, and recording tree measurements in an ongoing 30 year study.

We completed 3 plots today, one of which was in a beaver flowage.  I wish I had a picture for you, but it was pouring rain, the water was up to our knees, and we were looking for a 12" center pin the size of a knitting needle in black mud.  If you don't know what black mud is, well, it is just like what it sounds like.  It is black colored mud located in wet, swampy areas that is usually kind of bottomless. And I tend to drop important stuff in it.  Like cameras.

Home now, 10pm.  Sun is supposed to come out tomorrow! Yeah. 

Time for bed for me. Night all!

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Cold Snap

Heading out the door this morning for my 16 mile run, I was hit in the face by something I wasn't expecting.

It was zero degrees.  Nil. Zip. Nada.

Zero degrees in downtown Caratunk at 6am on a Saturday morning looks like this:


I stepped back inside and threw on an extra layer, and hit the road resolved to have an excellent run, regardless of the weather.

How many of you have friends that would meet you on a weekend as the sun is rising in the freezing cold to help you knock off a few (6-8) of your long miles with some company?  How about running down the toughest part of the steepest hill just to run back up it with you?  AND drive and pick you up on a 16 mile point-to-point run? 

Yeah, I am that lucky.  My buddy Beth and her dog Austin greeted me at the bottom of the steepest pitch of the biggest hill on the run (in the first 3 miles) and ran with me for an hour.  Austins wiskers froze.


Alone again, happy that the mud of the Boise Road was frozen, I tried to take a drink of the HEED (aka "go juice") I was carrying with me.  Frozen.  At least the sun had come out, my calf didn't hurt, and I was feeling strong.  I snapped a picture.


Making the turn onto the Moxie road, I concentrated on the weird little ice balls that were forming around my mouth.  Seriously, they were really strange and I can't remember ever having them before.  Huh.  Squinting to feel the frost that had formed on my eyelashes brush against my face, I figured I had about 5 miles left before I got to Berry's Store (if you haven't had the pleasure of frost on your eyelashes, you really need to check it out). 

Beth did a drive by to make sure I wasn't frozen to a stump somewhere, and I noticed she had picked up my boy Bailey.  I was psyched, and the last 3 miles flew by pretty quickly (for me anyway).  I could hear the river before I could see it flowing down through the lower gorge, which seemed to give me a little extra energy to finish strong.  

I jumped onto Route 201 and headed north to Berry's Store, where Beth was waiting for me with my buddy, who was pretty happy to see me.  Thanks for all your help today Beth - and for the great pictures!

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Just a Good Run

I was feeling kind of antsy this afternoon, and Bailey suggested I go for a run so he could spend some more quality time on the couch.
He didn't offer to go with me, but really, it was his idea I get out of the house and enjoy the afternoon.  The recent snowfall melted today (yeah!) and it was a super warm afternoon.  I quickly dressed in my Brooks gear and ridiculously posed for my neighbor before I headed out the door. 
I wanted to test out my calf (it has recently told me to stop beating on it. Again.) so I had no watch, no plan, just a run.  I headed to the local pool first, hoping it would be open.
The ice has been off of my local training spot for about a week and a half, but this is the first time I wanted to jump in and swim across since October.  I really wanted in.  I mean, look at it:
Pay no attention to the block of ice floating out there.  Doesn't it look awesome?  It is calling me, I just can't find anyone to go with me yet.  But I will.  The boat launch always loses ice first.  It is where the Kennebec River turns into Wyman Lake, so there is a bit of a current here and it never really freezes enough so you dare to walk on it.  Well, at least I don't dare to.

Pleased with the progress of the ice situation, I ran upstream (north) eagerly anticipating my first open water swim of the season, free of the drudgery of that dreaded black line on the bottom of the pool for the entire summer.  I really, really can't wait.

A few miles upstream, I came to my favorite part of every run I do (on Route 201).
No matter how cold it is or how many log trucks go screaming by, this particular place is by far, one of my favorite running spots.  I always zone out on the river as I run, letting my mind wander and my body relax into a comfortable pace.  This spot tends to set the tone for my entire run.  Sometimes, when I run early in the morning, I hit it just right; no cars go by and I have this spot all to myself.

I turned around after a few more miles, and headed home.  At the town sign (which is in need of repair, I noticed) I began my cool down, figuring out that I ran about 7 miles total.
Having no idea what my splits or pace per mile were, and not really caring, this is one of the best runs I have had in a while.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Going Nowhere

I have signed up to ride 100 Miles of Nowhere with the Fat Cyclist.


What is the 100 Miles of Nowhere?  Well, it is a race where you ride on your rollers, trainer, or on a very small course for 100 miles.  And it is probably the only race I will ever enter where I am guaranteed to win my division (my division currently is the "Short and Spunky Girl from Caratunk", but I am open to entering another division if any of you want to make one up for me).

Actually, Fatty describes this race best I think:
The 100 Miles of Nowhere is a race without a place. It’s an event in which hundreds of people participate ....all by ourselves....the profits from your entry go to LiveStrong, to help them as they help people, worldwide, in their battles against cancer.
Yeah, that is right, I am going to ride my bike, 100 miles, and go absolutely nowhere.

Why would I do this?  Because it is so completely and utterly, ridiculous, I couldn't find a good reason not to sign up.  I also think that it proves beyond all reasonable doubt that I have absolutely no common sense.

The proceeds from the registration for this ride raises money for an organization that unites, inspires and empowers people affected by cancer.  So really, who can pass up a chance to "give cancer the finger," (as Fatty says) and help the Livestrong Foundation help people in their battle with cancer.

So what if a little suffering and boredom is involved on my part.

I, of course, have to make things slightly more complicated by having double booked myself that weekend.  Luckily, the date of the race to nowhere is flexible, since it is it really just me racing, I can do it whenever I want.  The official ride day is May 8 - which also happens to be the day of my first sprint tri of the season, The Polar Bear Triathlon.  I can't miss the chance to remind myself that I should have swam more this winter, so I plan on doing the ride the day after the triathlon, May 9th.

Yup, I do not have a brain cell in sight when it comes to challenges.  But I figure, since I have my division win locked, I can do it whenever I want, and it doesn't really matter how slow I am or how many breaks I take.

My route will either be on a trainer watching 4-6 movies, or riding around the Caratunk Loop 48 times, or, a little of both.  I will hate either my trainer or the Caratunk Loop at the end of this, I am sure.  Just to make it fun, I think I might let my blog followers choose my poison - what do you guys think?

Another thing - this will be my first century ride. I don't know what is wrong with me.  I always thought my first century ride would be along a planned route with gorgeous scenery to distract me, and that I would actually go somewhere on the ride.  I guess I will have to save that for my second century ride. 

For a little window into what I plan on doing, here is a great video made by Noodle, a participant last year:


100 Miles of Nowhere from Noodle on Vimeo.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Opening Day

I always open my bike season with the same out and back ride to Berry's Store in the West Forks. It is a rolling scenic ride along the Kennebec River on Route 201, with the occasional log truck flying by just to check out how you balance in a wind tunnel and keep you on your toes. 

The first time I did this ride (3 years ago now), it was a big deal for me.  I had just learned to ride a bike (I know, it is crazy), and I was barely comfortable on my new bike.  It was my first time riding on a road with cars on it, my first time riding more than 5-6 miles, and my first time riding alone.  Each hill was a challenge, I was terribly inefficient, clumsy, the cars really freaked me out, and it took me 1 hr 20 minutes to ride 16 miles.

At the time, I was thrilled.  I went down to my man John's office and told him what I did.  I called my parents, my friends, I was pretty impressed with my bad self and my little 16 mile victory.  I signed up for the Trek Across Maine that day, a 3 day 180 mile charity bike ride from Bethel, ME to Belfast, ME.  I figured if I could go 16 miles in one day, then I could surely go 60 miles a day for 3 days.  After all, I had a month...well, 3 weeks, to train.

Obviously, I am not really afraid of failure or embarrassment.   What scares me more than anything is not trying, not toeing up to that starting line to give it your best shot, then wondering your whole life if you could have done it.  I just don't want that monkey on my back.

I am not sure why I am wired this way, and my eternal optimism tends to grate on those whose glass is perpetually half empty and like to talk about what they (or I, or anyone) can't do instead of what they can do.  So when my friends said they thought I was crazy to think I could do the Trek after only riding a bike for a few weeks, I nodded, thanked them for their opinion, then politely ignored them (I had already signed up anyway).  That Trek Across Maine was awesome, so was the next one. 

This year, Wednesday, March 17 was opening day - a new record in Caratunk, Maine, let me tell you.  Usually right about now is when I start losing my sanity after 5 months on the trainer.  How can I describe this ride?

IT....WAS....FABULOUS.

Heaven actually.  My toes are tingling just thinking about the awesomeness of that bike ride.  It was my first time out on my clipless pedals and aerobar (away from the safety of being locked into a trainer).  My start-up and clip-in is anything but pretty, but once I got going, I loved it.  I even remembered I was clipped in at the stop sign and actually unclipped before I tipped over.

The ride took me just under 50 minutes - much better than my first time 3 years ago, that is for sure.  Thank you Coach Troy for the bi-weekly beatings you provided, it was worth every second. I have a way to go to get to where I want to be, and am thrilled that I get to get almost an extra month of outside riding in to build on my base and plan to put on some big miles before the year is out.

As long as mother nature cooperates, that is.   Right now, it is spitting snow.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Unleashed

I recently noticed that the dirt roads around my house have cleared enough to run on again, and I am ecstatic. I feel like the bonds of winter have been untied.  No more long, repetitive runs on Route 201 with log trucks screeching by, slinging wind and slush and rocks at me.  Now I have choices, lots of choices!

The only caveat is that I need to run early. Running later means you run in mud.  Not just a little mud.  I am talking about mud caked on shoes, up your legs, down the back of your shirt, on your face mud.  Yes, we are in mud season a little early this year, but right now, I will take it for my own, personal piece of running paradise, with a network of dirt roads to run on away from the roar and monotony of Route 201.

Early doesn't really bother me.  There is just something fantastic about getting out the door and busting out a few miles before most folks wake up.  I love to chug along (I think I can, I think I can), enjoying the light playing on the river and dancing the trees as the sun rises.   This morning was no exception, but I got a little excited and was out the door earlier than usual.  Actually, it was dark, and I needed to wear a headlamp for the first half hour of my run.  Yes, I was that excited.

This run was made even better because I had friends to run with me, willing and eager to get up early in the dark too.  Proof that I am not insane.  Or at least that I am not the only one.
Beth and Austin are my best running buddies, I love when it works out and we can run together.  That isn't a photo from the run this morning, but it is a photo of them at least.  Dirt roads opening up means that now Austin gets to go on runs with us anytime he wants, which somehow just makes the whole run that much more fun.

We are in a leash-free zone in Caratunk, my friends and I go on long dog walks, often with more dogs than people, and not a leash (well, I mean, I have one. Somewhere...), a growl, or a fight among the pack.  I take that luxury for granted sometimes, and am sure that I would have a hard time adjusting to a place that was different.

Today I was running, watching Austin happily trotting ahead, tongue lolling, tail wagging.  He occasionally darted around chasing squirrels, or would just sit, watching and waiting for us to catch up, and I was reminded about how lucky I am to live where I live, where open access is the norm and both my dog and I can be unleashed to run around in the woods as we please. 

Speaking of my dog - you may notice that Bailey was not on this run.  Or any run for that matter.  Well, I asked him if he wanted to go, and as usual, he gave me this look:
I think he is saying, "Are you kidding me?  I'll keep the couch warm." 

He is more of a walker than a runner I guess.










Sunday, March 14, 2010

Third Time is a Charm

Yeah, not a bad way to spend an evening, huh?

My third trip into Baxter State Park this year was sunny and warm.  There was very little snow so skiing would have been tough, and snowshoeing was unnecessary.  We easily walked the 6 miles into Daicey Pond, and were pleased to see that we had the place all to ourselves. 

We were well-supplied, bringing in two mini-kegs of Black Fly Stout.  Maine beer is good stuff.  Oh, yes, when I say we, I mean Victor and Bob.  Thanks guys...


Ahhh....mornings...I was up early and out to the lake for a cup of tea and some early morning yoga.  Nothing like downward dog in the shadow of Katahdin.


We went for a hike to Big and Little Niagara, part of Nesowadnehunk Stream, and spent a lot of time in the sun...


Speaking of Nesowadnehunk Stream...In the afternoon as the boys hung around back at camp, we girls decided to go for a little walk....which lead to our first swim of the year - skinny dipping in the frigid water.

Yup, we did it, we jumped right in here: 

It looked so good, with Doubletop Mountain in the background, we just couldn't help ourselves...

This, ofcourse, is a picture of us post swim and almost warm.

This was a great season of triathlon and marathon training mixed with time playing in my favorite park - three times!  I am super thankful that I am lucky enough to have friends who love to spend time in the outdoors as much as I do.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Tag, I Am It!

Teresa from Tri-A-Licious tagged me to list 10 random things about myself, so here goes...


10 Random Things About Me

1. My dog, Bailey, is my best buddy.

2. I took a shot of beer offered to me by a UVM student at mile 25 of the Key Bank Vermont City Marathon - and I PR'd.

3. I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was 33.  Yeah, I know, weird right?

4. Flying really freaks me out, but I love to travel and see new places, so I do it anyway.

5. My friends think I like to do everything alone.  That is not true. I just like to do things that my friends are uninterested in (at least, you all say no when I ask if you want to go on a 70 mile bike ride), and the fact that no one else wants to come along just doesn't stop me from going. 

6. If I could only eat one food for the rest of my life, it would be pizza.

7. I have a few friends who always describe me as tough - I don't think I have earned that designation.  Stubborn, independent, and refusing to give up? Yeah, you got me there.  But not tough. You want to see tough?

Check out Harriet Anderson. This is one tough cookie.  She finished the Ironman World Championships in Kona after a bike crash where she broke her clavicle.  She is 74, and was the oldest woman to cross the finish line.  I am a soft chewy cookie crumb compared to her.

8.  I am an avid reader, a geek, a book worm.  I need to read before I go to bed.  The last book I read was Child 44.  I am reading New York, The Novel right now, along with about 5 different triathlon books.

9. I was completely unprepared for my first triathlon.  It was a real kick in the pants for me, and I fell in love with the sport.  I made a promise to myself that I would never be that unfit again.  Also I made a note to look for photographers next time because if you don't know they are there, you get the most unflattering pictures.  You will have to trust me on that, I would rather drink bleach than post those pictures here.

10. There was a time, not so long ago, that I hated running.  It happened after running my 4th and most recent marathon (2008), an event that I wistfully call "The Goofy Challenge Debacle".  Someday, I will write about it in humorous detail, and you will all laugh and shake your head at my bravado (ie-stupidity).  The good news is (my voice is dripping with sarcasm about this being good news), I am on the Disney Marathon video for that year, staggering over the finish line like a zombie.  I am back on the horse though, ready to face my demons and maybe even PR at the Sugarloaf Marathon in just 9 short weeks!

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Specificity Overload?

I am a student of Joe Friel's Triathletes Training Bible.  Friel advocates that if you want to run at a certain pace well over a certain distance, that you have to train at that pace.  This has always made sense to me, but I started to rethink this a little after reading Patrick John McCrann's blog The Myth of Running Economy.  McCrann challenges Joel Friel's last blog entry Specificity of Training, which basically states the running economy theory I just mentioned, which Friel sums up here:
If your goal is to run a 7-minute pace you need to do a lot of 7-minute-paced running. Not 8 minutes and not 6 minutes. There is this thing called “economy” which relates to the principle of specificity. If you spend a lot of time running 6- or 8-minute pace you will not be as economical at 7 minutes as you could have otherwise been.
McCrann points out that "your body will only adapt when it is challenged."  Yup, got it.  Your body is basically lazy.  If you pick a pace and only train at that pace, you body adapts to that pace, so instead of leading to increased economy, if you continue at that pace, it actually decreases economy due to lack of training stress.  I loosely (very loosely) am describing  Progressive Overload, here, and while training at a certain pace will increase economy.

McCrann isn't the only one to challenge Friel.  Chris Whyte points to a number of studies that support Progressive Overload on his blog, The Running Economy Myth, and challenges Friel's notion of specificity in training. According to Whyte: 
No matter how you look at it, doing a lot of running at goal race pace, by itself, is not a factor in improving your running economy. It can only become a factor when the stimulus associated with training at goal race pace just so happens to be responsible for creating an overload and therefore eventually inducing an adaptation.
Basically, we have to train our bodies to use less oxygen when we run to become more economical at a given pace.  By more economical, I mean, use less energy given your output.  The way we teach our bodies to do that: push ourselves harder, faster, and further.   

Whose side to I fall on? Well, to be a complete spineless wuss, I kind of like a little of what everyone is saying.   I agree that specificity alone does not improve running economy, but I am not prepared to throw out the years of experience and knowledge that Friel has to lend by any means, but I am also not a blind follower who doesn't listen to any other ideas either. 

I am no scientist, I am certainly no expert.  Training is a very individual thing and generally, there is not one good answer that fits every athlete.  I tend to read a lot of different ideas and mesh them all together to do what works for me.  But what I do get out of this is that pushing yourself more will lead to bigger gains in the long term.

Note: Friel does recommend intensity work, just not everyday - something both blogs challenging him failed to mention.  Pushing hard is important, but not everytime you go out because 1) you risk injury, which would be a big step backwards in your training, not a gain, and 2) you need recovery to improve.  So in the end, I want to amend what I wrote earlier to say I fall firmly on Friel's side on this debate, understanding the importance of pushing yourself harder with intensity work as specified under a training program of the athlete's (that's you!) choice.     

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Home Run

I had a 13 miler scheduled this weekend, and I just wasn't into grinding out a run on an out and back on Route 201.  Again.  Enough so that I was kind of dreading the run.  That is just never a good place to start on a longish run, or any run for that matter.

Sometimes you just need to change it up a little.
 
I decided to run on the roads around my parents house, something new and different, yet familiar.  I hopped on Daily Mile and started checking out some potential routes, called home, and made the plan.

Up early Saturday morning, I packed my stuff into a bag and drove south. Warmly greeted by my parents, I began to unpack my bag of running clothes.  Uh-oh. Where is that iPod?  I dump all of my clothes on the floor, on my hands and knees digging through, searching, hoping.  No iPod. Crap.

Putting the lack of iPod aside, I headed out the door and ran the 3 miles from my parent's house, past the Solon Elementary School, to the metropolis of downtown Solon, ME.  Solon is, as the sign welcoming you to its border claims, "A Friendly Town."  With less than 1,000 residents, everyone pretty much knows one another.  Having grown up there it is funny how its places and people are familiar and yet somehow forgotten to me at the same time.

Saying hello to people working in their yards as I passed, I took a turn onto Main Street.  I smiled as I  remembered the houses I used to visit when I was young, noting that some of those houses were empty.  Names, faces, and memories I hadn't thought of for years popped into my head as I jogged through town.

Leaving town and climbing French Hill, I passed numerous open fields.  Some of these fields had beautiful working farmhouses attached; others had dilapidated old barns with caved in roofs, abandoned in the middle of a naked field.  The farms in Solon raise everything from sheep to buffalo.  I saw some sheep on this run, no buffalo.

Beyond the farms on top of French Hill, on a long, straight stretch of road, I passed a family collecting sap in buckets to boil down into maple syrup.  The sight of the three generations I was approaching made me smile. There was grandpa sitting on a 4-wheeler shouting commands; his son, carrying two buckets of syrup to the 4 wheeler; and daughter, hopping along behind.  I said hello to them, the old man shouted back, "Saps running good!"

I suddenly realized that I didn't miss my iPod at all, and was probably having a better run without it.  Thinking about this, I turned onto the Parkman Hill Road and saw one monster of a hill.  Check out mile 6-7.5 of my run (tracking on Beginner Triathlete):


Generally, hills don't bother me, but by the time I got to the top of this baby, I was reduced to a death shuffle.  I checked over my shoulder to look down on the hill I just ran and was surprised to see two huskies jogging along behind me, tongues lolling and tails wagging.  I stopped and said hi, let them sniff my hand.  They were friendly enough guys, I scratched their ears, and then just said, "Go home guys, you have to go home."  After a quick look at one another, they turned and ran down the hill.

This run was turning out to be way more interesting than my regular run on 201.  The run out the door from my house is scenic, that is for sure, but I have to contend with constant log trucks flying by, their roar cutting out all noise, bringing with them a strong wind that practically knocks you over and sucks the air out of your lungs. 

Running along, I noted I hadn't seen a vehicle in over an hour, and my last conversation was with two friendly canines.  On the home stretch, I ran past the South Solon Meeting House and turned onto the winding South Solon Road.  The buzz of 201 hit my ears as I approached (I can't escape it completely), and I knew I was in my last mile. My legs felt great, my calf didn't talk to me at all (thank you PT), and I was completely relaxed.

I checked my pace for the run as I cooled down, walking down my parents road.  Not the best pace, but I figured I must have lost a lot of time climbing and recovering from the hill from mile 6-7.5, and besides, it was a LSD (Long Slow Distance) day.

This run was a bit of a homecoming for me - I have a new appreciation for where I grew up, even though it has been right in front of me my whole life.  Running for me is a journey, feeding your mind and body.  It is a way to explore new places, and rediscover places you have known your entire life.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Baxter Report and....

I promised a report on my Baxter Park trip from this past weekend.  I think usually Baxter reflects itself best in pictures, but this time it was pretty overcast and cloudy, so it was tough to get many good pictures of my favorite mountain.

Day 1:
The going was tough on the way in, wet, sloppy snow and lots of blow-downs.  The lakes were all covered with about 6 inches of slush and water, so we couldn't cross, which added some extra time and miles onto the 6 mile ski in to Daicey Pond.

Like I said, I was a bit clouded in.  Trust me, when the clouds aren't there, it is a great view!

Day 2:
On our layover day, after licking our wounds from the ski in (there were some nasty blisters involved), we all skied about a mile along the Appalachian Trail to Little and Big Niagara Falls.

 

I know, you can't see the falls very good. But look at all the happy people - we know there is Jamison's back at camp. 

Day 3:
The ski out was a blast, there was a little fresh snow which really seemed to help.  The weather started to clear enough so we even got a good look at Katahdin on the way out to the trucks.

 

In Other News...

Through Twitter I stumbled upon a very cool website that had a very fun contest.  Mike (@roadbud on Twitter) needed a new tag line to describe Roadbud, which is not only his website, but is also the cool new iPhone application for runners that will be available by the end of March.  The winner not only gets the application for free, but also wins a shiny new 32GB iPhone 3GS!  I told you, cool contest, right?

One of the tag lines I tweeted was chosen as the WINNER!  Yeah, I am psyched.  Fire Up Your Run with Roadbud!

Now, how do you use these iPhone thinggies?

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Play For Her

Somewhere behind the athlete you've become, the hours of practice, and the coaches who have pushed you is a little girl who fell in love with the game and never looked back...Play for her. ~ Mia Hamm

When I was a kid, I loved to run.  It was one of my favorite things, moving fast, giving it my all without thinking about anything but getting...there.  It didn't matter if I made it there first (sometimes I did), where we ran (sometimes in circles), just the simple act of running, barely feeling my legs moving under me was exhilarating.  I ran everywhere.  Go get the mail? Run. Go get the milk from the fridge? Run.  Go to bed? Run.

I lost that somewhere between wanting to be a cool kid and trying to fit in. Fortunately, running came back to me as an adult, but not with the same reckless abandon I had when I was younger.  We all get more tense as we get older, and I often find that I hold myself back from letting it all go, worrying about pace, heart rate, injuries, what to cook for supper.  I think we would all be better off if we worried a little less and relaxed just a little more.

I have an 6 mile run planned for today, and I am going to run it like I did when I was 12.