Timing Is (Nearly) Everything

Today I had another good run!  The temperature was 54 degrees and the dew point was 51 degrees; I actually selected a long-sleeve T-shirt because it felt a little chilly.  What a surprising and wonderful way to end the month of July!  I know these temperatures and humidity won't last, but I intend to make the most of them while they do.

I started up Big Bearpen, my Monday morning mainstay, and had my sleeves rolled up in no time.  It was good to climb to another summit, and I pulled it so well that it might have been a recent record.  At the top, I glanced at my faithful Garmin and noticed a LOW BATTERY warning, but when I switched to another screen it disappeared and continued to track my distance.  I descended the mountain, and then ran out Lower Lake Road, turned on Gibson, and started down Harris Drive, glancing at my wrist from time to time.  The last reading I remember was a 3.75, or thereabouts, but by the time I reached the bottom of Harris Drive, it looked like this.

I had been hoping to record my overall pace, and perhaps even run a fast mile or some 400-meter intervals along the way, but the blank face of my watch put an end to that.  So I shrugged and continued on, keeping track of my mileage the "Old Way," before the era of GPS watches, when we used to mark our miles by that big rock along Lower Lake Road, that mailbox on Leonard Street, and the odd markings all over the road.

It turned out to be a wonderful feeling, to free myself (at least for a little while) from the constant tracking of my mileage to the hundredth of a mile, the relentless passage of time.  I picked up the pace from time to time, slacked off, running completely as I felt like it at every point along the way.

I have been advised from more than one quarter to ditch my watch from time to time, and some of my running friends (Mary, in particular) refuse to wear a watch at all.  And I did enjoy this feeling of freedom today, no question about it.  But when I completed my run, I did a little calculation in my head and wrote in my running log, "7.00 miles."  Yes, I am among those runners who like to keep meticulous records, after all.  I will throw caution - and my watch - to the wind when the occasion necessitates (this is not the first time a GPS watch has given out during a run) but I do like to record at least an estimated distance in my running log.  As it has been said:

"Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?" - Jeremiah 13:23

Small Changes

A cold front has worked its way slowly into the area, and the temperature this morning in Highlands was in the mid-60s.  What a difference a few degrees can make!  The sky was that bright clear hydrangea blue, and there was a nice breeze out of the northwest that actually made me a little chilly as I started out on my ten-mile run!  I felt as if I had more energy than I have had in a long time.  The miles seemed to slip away easily, and I even threw in a Race Pace mile late in the run, something I have done in the past when training for longer races in order to accustom the body to running hard even after the accumulation of many miles.  As I write this on Saturday afternoon it is still only 70 degrees, a welcome relief from recent afternoon temperatures in the high 80s, and a reminder of how much better we will all feel in September and October.

More important to me is that the dew point is only 50 degrees.  I have come to rely on dew point more than relative humidity as a more accurate way to describe how comfortable outdoor exertion is.  Dew point is the temperature at which water vapor in the air will begin condensing to form dew on the grass, or mist and fog in the air.  "Relative humidity," according to a weather site on the internet, "tells you how close the combination of temperature and humidity are to saturation, but it does not tell you the overall amount of moisture in the air.  Most people find dew points of less than 60 degrees comfortable."  Recent dew points have been in the upper 60s, close to 70.  Today they were down into the 50s.

It is amazing what a difference very small changes can make!  We recently bought some new tires for our Mini Cooper and had the wheels aligned, and I realized that my air pressure was a little low; much reading on the internet determined that 38 psi is recommended for our model (measured cold, with two passengers).  I had no idea how much of a difference it would make to increase tire pressure by a mere 2 psi!  Taking those curves on the Walhalla Road up to Highlands are an absolute joy.

Small changes, big results.  Imagine what a difference it can make in all our lives to eat just a little more thoughtfully each day, to walk or run just a little bit more, to smile more and encourage more and be just a little more positive?

Departure

While I have often extolled the virtues of consistency in this blog, every runner should feel as if it is all right to depart from the training plan.  This is especially true for a tired, dehydrated runner who may be over-training and whose next race is four weeks away.

I had run six 400-meter intervals on Thursday  and it just zapped me.  Then I mowed the lawn late in the morning on Friday in humidity that was, as described by the Asheville weatherman, "uncomfortable" (although not yet "oppressive").  So I had been dreading the usual Saturday morning 10-miler.  That was when we both decided to give it a miss and take our Mini (new tires, wheels aligned on Friday) out on a little spin.  No excuses necessary when the open road beckons! 

We took a long, circuitous ramble, down to Franklin, lunch in Clayton, then across to Hiawassee, and up through Andrews, where we found a good place for a Mini shot!

Then we headed up the road to Topton, and Robbinsville, and finally to Snowbird Mountain Lodge, one of our favorite places on earth and a worthy destination for those seeking Departure.  It was a bit of a splurge because we had just been there a little over two weeks ago for our 38th anniversary, but it was exactly what this runner needed.  Rest!  Good food!

This morning found us sipping coffee, sitting on the porch swing, watching the finches and bluebirds, a non-threatening fat cat sprawled lazily on the walk just around the corner.

I spent some time in Snowbird's wonderful library Saturday, reading a travel book about Maine, revisiting some of the places we had visited on our trip in April.  The writer speculated why folks who retired to Maine lived longer than those who retired to Florida; he thought it was because they stayed more active, hiking and skiing and gardening.  He quoted an old German proverb:  "Rast ich, so rost ich."  When I rest, I rust.

I like that.  There is a fine line between rest and rust, after all:  only one letter!  Still, a runner needs to know when to prop his feet up, or sit in a porch swing.  And I will be thinking of that tomorrow when I plan to run up Bearpen once again.

Dehydration

It was good to see so many of our regular runners out this morning, and I was especially pleased that my FRP Martha (see July 4 post) ran five miles.  She has her sights set on some longer races, and gradually extending the mileage of the Saturday long run is exactly how to do that.  For my part, I am running ten miles on Saturdays and I intend to hold it there for a few weeks.

Nobody else seemed to be suffering, but today's ten miles was a difficult one for me.  I was not complaining, but I mentioned innocently and separately to Fred and John that, despite cloud cover and cool temperatures, it seemed a little humid.  They were quick to point out that they had both run (separately) in Atlanta this week where it was 90 degrees and the humidity nearly 100%.  So it was relatively humid in Highlands this morning, and I was dehydrated by a week of hot and humid running, day after day.

Dehydration can build up over a period of a few days, and all the water and sports drink in the world don't seem to help.  Because every time I passed a water fountain, I stopped and drank copiously.  And I went out of my way to pass water fountains.  Still, by the end of the day, I found I had dropped an amazing 4.5 pounds in weight, the equivalent of 72 ounces of fluid.

So my goal for the rest of the day is a simple one.  Keep a bottle of water at hand and drink from it as often as I can.  That is the new thinking about dehydration.  It does no good to force yourself to drink water.  Every distance runner knows about, or should know about, hyponatremia, which has finished off many an unprepared marathon runner.   And there is simply no way to replace 72 ounces of fluid in a short period of time.  It is far better to drink according to your thirst, and to have fluids handy for that purpose, throughout the day.

I suppose it it just another corollary to that old saying:  listen to your body.  We would all be better runners if we heeded that advice.

Rainbow Falls

We had another good group for our Saturday morning run yesterday.  I knew it was going to be hot and humid so I started early, but I was surprised by the cool breeze that continued most of the morning.  I caught up with Fred and Jennifer, who had just completed Peachtree on Tuesday but were nevertheless setting a good pace.  It is easy to get sucked into a faster pace than planned when you are having fun and laughing and talking.  I circled back at 9:00 and was pleased to have Martha join us and six or seven more.  It was an amiable group.

One of our newer runners is Curtis, who lives in Tucson but stays up here in the summer in a house he bought on Satulah Mountain.  I discovered completely by accident that he had been a professional cyclist who rode in the Tour of California in 2009 against Lance Armstrong and others.  So we had a good conversation about the Tour de France which is now underway, about doping (very prevalent, always wrong), the Peters Sagan-Mark Cavendish accident in Stage Three (totally unfair that Sagan was disqualified), and the world of professional cycling.  It is always good to hear about it first-hand from an insider!  But we were enjoying talking so much that I again found myself running faster than I wanted to for an LSD (long slow distance) run.

But sometimes it may be good to do that.  When I returned, I checked the history on my GPS watch and compared my ten-mile run of exactly a week ago with the same distance this week, and found that my pace had been nearly a minute per mile faster.  Yet, remarkably, I felt very strong in the last mile.  That is a good feeling as my training season progresses!

This morning, we awoke to a gorgeous day, cooler drier air and no chance of rain.  So we decided to pick up lunch in Cashiers and go hiking in Gorges State Park.  We started out on the Rainbow Falls Trail, which was rated "strenuous" but, we both thought, was moderately difficult.  But soon it began to climb, higher and higher, and by the time we had reached the falls we agreed with the rating.  Or perhaps it was the ten miles yesterday?

It is always nice to go on a hike that has a destination, a summit or a waterfall, and this was one of the most beautiful waterfalls I have seen in this area, taller than Looking Glass Falls but not as well known (because of the strenuous access, I suppose).  We stood watching this tall, bright cascade for a long time.  There were plenty of people standing along the handrail at the top and also down below, most of them young, swimming in the waterfall pool and sunning on the rocks, and we noticed that a half-dozen were creeping out on a ledge to the left of the falls.  Suddenly one of them jumped, and then the others, one at a time.

"I hope that water is deep enough!" a man to my left said.  A young, fit-looking man in a swim suit to his left assured him that it was.  "I couldn't touch the bottom," he said.

I struck up a conversation then, and he said two generations of his family were down below, swimming and climbing on the rocks.  "I did that back when I was a younger man," he said.   And he told me that when he was 50 years old he had jumped off a 35-foot waterfall in Jamaica in front of his son and grandson.  "I was a diver in college, and I did a full gainer on the way down!  Now I don't due stupid things anymore."  I told him that I ran my first marathon at the age of 50, and had run many more after that, so I must not have learned my lesson in stupidity.  We agreed in the end that it is good to do stupid things, to be able to look back and say, "Yes!  What a thing to do!"  And to carry that memory with you for the rest of your life.

I have jumped off many starting lines, but I have never jumped off a waterfall like this.

Snowbird Mountain Lodge

We had a wonderful anniversary trip to Snowbird Mountain Lodge (see previous post); we were even able to have the top down on the Mini for most of the way despite this streak of daily afternoon thunderstorms we have been having.

This lodge holds a special place in our hearts; we have stayed here for our anniversary off and on since 2003.  Walk up those steps into the lobby and immediately you enter another world - the dark wood-paneled dining room on the right and the big library on the left with a large and diverse collection of books, comfortable leather sofas, game tables with chess and checker sets, and that wonderful smoky fragrance from the fireplace that has held many roaring logs over the decades.  This would not be a bad place to be stuck indoors for many days!  The big windows let in a spectacular view, and there are several binoculars displayed on the table to watch the birds and squirrels and their constant skirmishes at the feeders.  These squirrels are some of the fattest I have seen!

Thursday morning we awoke to one of those lovely mornings we have up here where the clouds have settled in the valley like a blanket, a sea of luminous light, blue sky on the horizon.

I went out onto the deck of the screened porch to do my Tai Chi, and before I had finished the blue sky had vanished, thick clouds rolling in from the direction of the Cherohala Skyway, and it was raining in just a minute or two.  We had breakfast and waited and it eventually cleared, so we were able to go hiking as planned.  Our first hike was a new one, recommended by Sonya in the dining room (a local Robinsville girl who seemed to know her way around), Yellow Creek Falls.  It was a great hike and a nice little waterfall, but the trail was slick from the morning rain and we had to pick our way carefully along.

On the way back we stopped at Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest and hiked the Old Growth Loop, where there are more magnificent trees than any length of trail I know of in the Appalachians, mostly poplar and other hardwoods.  It was sad to see the remains of fallen hemlocks, killed by the woolly adelgid, but some of these remaining trees are 400 years old and look like they will be around for a long time.

After dinner we were able to take a third hike, just a short one on the Point Trail to the Sunrise Deck,   And yes, we rang the big bell 38 times.

It began raining early on Thursday, so we decided against canoeing in Lake Santeetlah which is usually a part of our stay up here.  Instead we had a nice ramble around to Fontana Village, ending up at the lower end of the famous Tail of the Dragon (which we have driven before), in and out of rain all day.  And there was more rain on Friday morning as we headed back to the Nantahala Outdoor Center in Wesser to eat lunch on the covered porch and watch raft after raft float down the river.

It was good to return to our home today, though, and we are thankful that we live in such a beautiful part of the world.  We have derived a lot of inspiration from visiting this place, from our gardens and whimsical little outdoor art to the amber-shaded Craftsman-style sconces and lights we first saw here.  So in a way we have carried that magic back with us and made it part of our lives. Our own little Snowbird Lodge here in Clear Creek.

My Favorite Running Partner

Saturdays during the summer are a big social occasion in our Running Club, when the morning group and the afternoon group and the anytime-I-can-go group all try to meet at 9:00 a.m. at Founders Park.  Whether we actually meet at the Park or not, it is good to see old friends out on the road somewhere, even if only passing them in the opposite direction, running partners we have been running with for years, many of them so much faster than I am these days that all I can do is have a quick chat about recent races and upcoming plans and then watch them disappear with the "A" group up the road.  I felt good Saturday, much better than last week when I ran those hill sprints the day before.  On the final mile of my ten-mile run I still felt strong, and I even picked up the pace a little, reminding me of those long-ago days in marathon training when I liked to speed up in the final mile to goal marathon pace.  It is a confidence-builder, knowing you can still hit that goal after 12 or 16 or even 20 miles.

Monday's run went well, too, six miles of hills with Vicki including Big Bearpen again, so hot and humid that I was able to squeeze sweat from my shirt when I finished.  I think I am beginning to experience the benefits of those weekly hill sprints and a renewed consistency to my training.

Today was the Fourth of July in Highlands, and people were already beginning to come into Town for all of the activities of the day:  the Rotary Barbeque at Founders Park (where loudspeakers were  playing patriotic music), the games and events at the Ball Park on Hickory Street, and the highly-anticipated fireworks tonight; people were setting up chairs all over Town in their favorite viewing locations.

Bob was just completing his run when I arrived at the Park, and there were some other runners out (visitors probably) and plenty of walkers, families with red-white-and-blue-shirted children, and somebody had placed a small American flag at every mailbox on roads close to downtown.  I had not made arrangements to run with anyone, but to my great delight, my favorite running partner showed up:  my wife Martha, who has suffered some setbacks in recent weeks including most recently a bout of antibiotics for chest congestion.  It was so good to see her dressed out, feeling healthy, eager to go!  We ran up Lower Lake Road to the end and then back again, in the cool shade past rhododendron and venerable rock walls where we have run for many years.  And then at the top of Sixth Street, she wanted to do some of those hill sprints she has been hearing about.  What a great day to be out in Highlands, a place so attractive to visitors that they will drive here from miles away, a place where we are so fortunate to live, running with my favorite running partner!

This blog will go on vacation for a few days because my FRP and I will be going on a trip to Snowbird Mountain Lodge in Robbinsville to celebrate out 38th Anniversary.  It is a beautiful place, one that holds special memories for us, and although we are not planning on running, we are planning on canoeing on Lake Santeetlah and hiking in Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest and simply enjoying the satisfying goodness of having someone to go the long journey with us!

There is a little trail that starts at the parking lot and winds its way out to an overlook, and there suspended from an almost Oriental frame hangs a huge bell.  Our tradition is to walk out there and ring that gong, once for every year we have been loving each other.

Happy Anniversary, Martha!