Conquering The Canyon

I want to provide disclosure up front: This is not intended to be a humorous post. It’s been quite a while since I posted up anything–life’s been busy and sometimes I struggle with posting anything because I find the incessant need to share things in today’s social media environment to be off-putting to a large degree. But, for the three of you friends and family that might want to hear about this…. well, this is for you.

You may or may not know that a few years ago, I was diagnosed with a condition medically known as Adhesive Capsulitis (and commonly known as “Frozen Shoulder”). If you are interested in the medical details of that, you can find them fairly easily by doing a quick search on the interwebs (or click here). I won’t bore you with the details, but the short version is, it is a long, drawn-out affair that involves a lot of pain and agony, loss of range of motion in your arm (extending from the affected shoulder), and sometimes lasts (as in my case) upwards of 3 or more years from onset to completion. If you want to read a humorous account that involves my early stages (before I knew what was going on), you can check out my post about the squirrel incident.

Suffice it to say that due to the shoulder problem, I spent the last few years involving myself in about as much physical fitness activity as a post-apocalyptic corpse. Doing anything was painful during that time and there was not really much to be done for it. I work a pretty sedentary job anyway, so the lack of any appreciable activity really didn’t do me any favors in the health department. With the ever-increasing number on the scale, the ever-widening midsection, the effects of the capsulitis mostly gone and both of the little buzzards having vacated the nest, I felt it was time I stretch my wings again and try to start whipping myself back into some semblance of middle-aged shape. So, I did what any rational, overweight, out of shape middle-aged guy would do in my situation–I decided to run a 20k trail race through the Palo Duro Canyon.

My curiosity was peaked years ago when a friend and coworker, Torrey Barnhouse, decided to run a 50k trail race in Arkansas. It sounded unfathomable at the time, and yet, it got me thinking about whether I could ever muster the will and fortitude to do something like that. I thought I might try the following year, but after doing some running (not nearly enough), I went out for a training run at a local trail area. It was about 7 degrees, and there were a few inches of snow on the ground. It was pretty rough. I realized then that I was nowhere near the condition I needed to be thinking of something like this, and also that Torrey is an absolute stud of a man the likes of which I was nowhere close to. So, I dropped my quest and went back to a mostly sedentary existence, with a sense of anguish and defeat.

After a few years of extremely limited activity, and finally coming out of the capsulitis issues, I found myself feeling very out of shape and carrying more extra weight around than I ever have. I really wanted to try to push myself to get moving again. Around the holidays last year, my Brother-in-law and I were talking, and I had mentioned the 50k race and that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do something like that. Then he told me about a race in the Palo Duro Canyon out in Amarillo. It’s the 2nd largest canyon in the USA, and they offered a 20k option in addition to the longer distances. Upon hearing this, I was immediately excited about the prospect. While I didn’t think I could do a 50k for a lot of reasons, I felt a 20k was within reach if I could motivate myself to get moving and train for it. There is something to be said about setting goals that are lofty but achievable.

I won’t bore with all the details. Suffice it to say that, while I haven’t logged as many miles as I’d have liked, I have logged more miles this year than ever. I have shed some of the extra weight and have things moving in the right direction. It’s sometimes been painful or uncomfortable, but it feels really good to be moving again and whipping myself into better condition. I’ve learned that things don’t get any easier as you get older, so I really feel like now is the time I need to make my move to set myself up for success in the latter stages of life.

Of course, as with most success in life, it only comes when there are others there to help you and there are three people in particular I wanted to mention. First and foremost is my wife, Kerry. I’ve encountered lots of people and lots of married couples, and I can say how truly blessed I am that God brought us together. There is nobody that makes me feel like I can do anything I want in life the way that Kerry does. Her support is unwavering. She is not a harsh taskmaster that forces me to do things. She is the ultimate cheerleader, encouraging me and believing in me. I am so appreciative of that. If I mention something, rather than putting up roadblocks, she just smiles and says, “OK. You can do it!”

I’d also mention a good friend, we’ll call him Pablo Vandalay. He knows who he is. Everybody needs a friend like Pablo. He has a sometimes-maddening ability to hold you accountable to your words. He doesn’t do it in a harsh way, or with any malicious intent. He simply brings a reminder that if you said you needed to do something, and you offered a plan for how you were going to do it, you should probably put words into action. It comes in the form of a question about how you are doing with your goal, and what have you done to move yourself toward it. Sometimes we need those reminders to force us to face the realities of all the things we let stand as roadblocks to the goals we set in life–goals that are not easy but are attainable if we would simply follow through with the effort that we can and should put forth.

Finally, there is my good friend, Tracey Gray. A special thanks goes out to him. Put simply, I would not be in the position I am today without him. At the start of the year, when I decided I wanted to attempt this race, I was still really struggling with self-motivation. January went by, then February, and not once did I lace up the running shoes. It wasn’t until I read a post by TGray about how he was not a runner but had started running earlier in the year and completed his first 5k. It was such an inspiration, I finally got up and did my first run of the year that very day. Then he asked me to join him for a 5k race. That got me going. I shared my goal of running the 20k with him and he was very encouraging. We then found out about a 10k trail race here and he took the step to stretch himself beyond what he felt he could do and we both signed up for that. But even before then, he was with me, running the trail every Saturday morning, trying to help me and encourage me to keep going. Even before he had any reason to run the extra miles, he was right there with me. It’s always great to have an encouraging word and supportive feedback from those around you. But, putting that encouraging word into action by running alongside you… I can’t express my gratitude. It has kept me going all year long. Even when we weren’t running together, we were exchanging stories about our weekly runs and times and how we felt. Even when he said nothing, just knowing he was out there putting one foot in front of the other was enough to get me out of the house and pounding the pavement, working towards the goal.

So, to you three, and to all the other friends and family that have been an encouragement, I say thank you. This weekend is the culmination of months of training. It’s really cool to look back and see where I was at the beginning of the year and where I am today. Tomorrow morning, at 7:20am I’ll be starting the 2017 Palo Duro Canyon 20k Trail Run. It will be the longest run I have ever completed. Regardless of what happens, whether I complete 20k or give out along the way, I will look back at this year and be encouraged by making the effort, and by those that pushed, pulled, and prodded me forward. I know they’ll all be with me, continuing to propel me towards the finish. I just have to keep things light and easy.

Middle-Aged Runner

Went out for a run.

First time in about six weeks.

I think I broke me.

Silence was her weapon

After my running incident a week ago, I had high hopes for keeping the momentum and getting out for another run later in the week. Midweek came and went. The weekend came and went. I decided I wasn’t being a miserable failure or a major slacker… I was pacing myself.

Nevertheless, after a weekend of eating more than I probably should and not having any more lines in my fitness spreadsheet (yes, I geek out like that), there was a growing sense of unease. I was starting to get that feeling that I seemed to carry through the majority of last year regarding my lack of effort and decided I’d better get moving again, lest I wake up one day and find myself like the Trolls in The Hobbit at sunrise.

Off into the cold, dark night I went, having coaxed my poor little dog off of her cozy spot on the couch in an effort to apply the ‘misery loves company’ adage, even if the company was a small canine. Unfortunately, my trusty canine companion’s will crumbled under the weight of sub-fifty-degree temperatures and I didn’t make it a quarter of a mile before I was literally starting to drag her, and so back to the house we went where she unabashedly pounced inside with the speed of a gazelle fleeing imminent danger. I was on my own.

It would have been easy at this point to call it a night. My training regimen didn’t even have me running regular distance (I’m using a Couch to 5k training regimen that doesn’t really have a distance run of two miles until this weekend), it was cold (I failed to put on my running jacket thinking I’d warm right up when I got started–I did not), and I had plenty of things to do this evening. Then again, anybody who knows me also knows I rarely do things the easy way. It’s a gift. So on I ran, provided you can call moving forward at a pace somewhere between that of a sloth and an untrained circus elephant running.

I ran on thinking I just needed to do as much as I did last week and we’d call it success. So, step after step, breath after breath I waited for that sweet siren song of my electronic trainer whispering how awesome I was to have reached the .5 mile mark in my ear. Then there were more steps. And more breaths. And as the breaths became more and more labored and the burning in my lungs deepened, I wondered to myself where was my sweet siren, because she was behaving much more like a sadistic middle schooler instead of the encouraging voice I had been expecting. Silence was her weapon.

In the end, I have to chalk it up to one of those miracles of modern technology that have made our lives so much the better. Apparently my running app on my phone didn’t care for the way I was running loops up and down my street, which was my course du jour. Once I hit 18+ minutes and finally got the notification that I had made it .5 miles, I knew it had to be a glitch. No way was I running that slow. I mean, I hadn’t even stopped to walk (save for the brief moment to allow my poor pup to escape the clutches of the cold, dark night). Oh well. So much for getting the gold star for a solid distance and pace. No worries. I’m sure I’ll get one next time… once I catch my breath.

I Suck

Three hundred forty-five days. That is how long it’s been since I went out for a run. After aspirations of whipping myself into shape last year, I proceeded to fail miserably. Sure, I had plenty of reasons for not running, but that doesn’t really matter.

I decided to set some goals this year to try to spur myself on to greatness, or at the least, general mediocrity. At this point, the mediocrity would seem an improvement. 5k in the first quarter, 10k in the second quarter, and Sprint Triathlon in q3. Those are my goals. If I manage to accomplish those, I’m leaving room open for something bigger in q4. But, hey, let’s be realistic–this coming from the guy who just admitted it’s been nigh on a year since he hit the track. Or treadmill. Or anything save the path between the easy chair and the fridge.

Today was a rude awakening to realize that, in spite of my grand aspirations, I’ve all but squandered a month of my year. If I didn’t get going, mediocrity would be a long shot. So, mustering up all my will, I determined to attack goal number one.

I dropped KT off at basketball practice and for the first time made good on my thought that it would be the perfect time to catch up on some running. I laced up the running shoes, and away I went. It must be noted that my daughter practices at a gym that is on a local university campus, so I thought the campus I think made it two blocks before I was breathing pretty heavily. By block three, I was getting strange looks from the students at the aforementioned university.

I managed to make it at least a half mile running before I had to walk for a bit to catch my breath. Sad, but true. I was sucking wind so hard I could have pulled a melon through a straw. I’m pretty sure I caused a minor meteorological disturbance, if not a full blown low pressure system. Seriously. Check the national weather service.

Nevertheless, I pushed on. I finished up with a combination of running and walking for a total distance of 2.01 (yes, I included the .01, don’t you be trying to rob me) in 24:39. I’ll grant you that a 12:14 pace is nothing to write home about. But when it’s been a whole lot of nothing for a year, 12:14 looks pretty mediocre. And sometimes mediocre is something to shoot for.