Cades Cove

Today several of us went to Cades Cove - the 11th time for me - and for the first time we faced not the usual beautiful September conditions, but light rain that was predicted to become heavier.  The weather map looked like this:

When we arrived at the parking lot, there was light rain, but it was occasionally blowing sideways, and that yellow and orange stuff on the map had not yet arrived.  So what does a smart runner do?  Yes, I bagged it.  Anthony and Skip slogged around the loop in the rain, and Skip later reported that I missed a great run; "No real rain until we got to the finish."

Congratulations, my friends!  But I have stood at the starting line of too many marathons in conditions like this and was not prepared to run 11 miles in the rain.  Not when the predicted conditions tomorrow morning in Highlands will be perfect, and with a 0% chance of rain.

Did You Mean: Beer Pins? (3052 items)

That's what I discovered when I Googled "Bear Pen" - beer pins! 

But every runner in Highlands knows what a Bear Pen is, and its historical origins.  And that there are actually two Bearpens, Little Bearpen Mountain and Big Bearpen Mountain.  And of the two, Big Bearpen is the route of choice when the training plan calls for running six miles of hills.  I don't know how many times I have climbed this mountain early in a training plan; there is no better way to build strength than running mountains like this.  From the Town Hall at 3850 feet, beginning with that little hill over by the Catholic Church on Fifth Street, and then the long gradual climb up Chestnut Street, and finally Big Bearpen Road itself topping off at 4250 feet, the climb is relentless - four miles round-trip.  And just as much fun going down as going up!

To make up the extra two miles I ran up "Monkey Hill" as well, which is the local name for the lower end of Hickory Street.  I don't even want to try Googling that one!

Never Give Up

The distance swimmer Diana Nyad has just completed an epic 110-mile swim between Cuba and Florida, finishing this Monday.  It is always inspiring to read about these kinds of awe-inspiring performances, especially as I embark on another marathon.  Of course, there is no comparison between an old guy like me running 26.2 miles and Diana Nyad swimming four times that distance, facing obstacles like jellyfish and sharks for more than two days and nights, setting a world record for distance swum without a shark cage.  Surely that is much more suffering than I am capable of accepting.

NBC News seemed surprised by the fact that also struck me:  she is 64 years old, exactly my age. "Most amazing to many, she succeeded in middle age after failing several times. Her first try was in 1978, when she was just 28.  It took her 52 hours and 54 minutes of what appears to have been pure misery."

In the news story that I watched this morning on TV, she reportedly told those who were waiting on shore for her, "Never give up!"  Her message, she said, was to "Be fully engaged.  Be so awake and alert and alive every minute of every waking day."  Her mantra through the swim was "find a way."  "It doesn't matter ... what you come up against because none of it's going to be pleasant. You're hardly ever out there going, 'Oh, my God, isn't it a beautiful moon tonight?' The crew is feeling that. But you're kind of suffering through the whole thing. So my thought was, 'everything you come up against say -- and this is why people are relating to my story -- all of us suffer heartache. All of us suffer difficulties in our lives. And if you say to yourself 'find a way,' you'll make it through."

At the end of the story, several senior swimmers were shown training in the pool where Diana had trained.  One amazing African-American woman said she was 74 years old and that she enjoyed every single day.  "Go until you can't go no more."

That's what I need to hear both now in Week One of my training and also at Mile 26 in December, if I am blessed enough to make it to that point.

The Long Run is the Slow Run

Although I have run several 10- and 12-mile runs this year, this was the "official" first long run in my marathon-training plan, Week No. 1, and it called for 10 miles.  I had recovered from the 10-mile hike last weekend and felt pretty good Saturday, but when I met up with the rest of the group they were all going so fast!  It was tempting to go with them all (the ones that I could have gone with, anyway) but all of the experts say that the long run should be run at least one minute slower than your marathon goal pace - some say as much as two minutes per mile slower - and so that would be a maximum 10:30 pace for me, at my age, trying to set a time goal in December. 

There were many runners in our club who were going a lot shorter distance than I was who wanted to run faster, but I have learned that it is best to slow down and run with whoever is at the very back of the pack, no matter how much banter about "Richard Pace" goes on.  Ego has no place in marathon training; the idea is to plan your run and run your plan, and not to be tempted into running faster or longer than you should.

So as I was coming down Chestnut Street, feeling a little frustrated and watching one of our runners steadily stretching out the distance in front of me, as I was getting left behind, I suddenly noticed this remarkable sign by the side of the road, no doubt placed there by area residents trying to slow down traffic:

Exactly what I needed to see at exactly the right time!  Thanks be to God in all things!

Back on Track

Four miles today, and everything felt pretty good in this the first week of my marathon training, and the first actual run.  The weather has turned nice and cool - Joe Pye weeds are bowing their tall heads along the roads, and everything is beginning to have that mature musky fragrance of early Fall,

And the light is so beautiful, too.  Last night Martha and I walked down the road and the sky had this peach-colored, pastel color to it that seemed to illuminate the entire world in an otherworldly kind of light.  And there was a cool breeze!  Have we actually turned the corner on all that rain, and all that warm weather?

 All along my route, people were out walking and enjoying the morning.  As I approached the corner where my Mom used to live, near Satulah Ridge, a couple walking a little black dog told me they had just seen a Mama Bear and her two cubs.  Sure enough, another car was stopped in the road, the window down and a mobile phone taking photos, and a little cub scampered across a driveway less than 50 feet away.  No Mama in sight, and I was glad.  They are unpredictable creatures, after all, and they can run a lot faster than I can.  Especially today.

Mt. LeConte

My marathon training plan kicked off this week with a planned four mile easy run on Monday and six miles of hills today.  I missed both of these workouts.  But only a fool would not consider Sunday's 10-mile hike to the summit of Mt. LeConte a good replacement for those workouts, the adequacy of which can be felt even today in sore muscles.  Muscles are supposed to feel this way after that kind of workout, though - climbing from 3800 to 6500 in elevation - and it is a good, healthy feeling as they go through the process of repairing and getting stronger, not unlike having run a hard race.

There is always a benefit to be gained in good cross-training, and Sunday's glorious hike - on the most perfect day I remember for climbing this mountain - was no exception.  This was my 27th climb to the top - just me and Martha (who is in GREAT shape) this time - and I hope it will not be my last. 

New Beginnings

It has been some time since I posted an entry to this blog, but with Fall on the way and a possible marathon on the horizon, I thought it would be instructive (for me at least, if not for the slim handful of friends who are followers of this intermittent blog) to begin again. 

Yes, there has been a touch of Fall in the air! - those cool temperatures a harbinger of good training days ahead, if only I can shake these annoying injuries of the past two weeks.  I had planned to run the Twilight 5-K in Highlands Saturday night and would have, despite the rain, except for an IT Band issue that seems to be more than just the usual niggle.  And then Friday I apparently stepped on a dead or dying bee while walking barefoot at home.  (Do they die lying on their backs, stinger pointed upward, just for the opportunity of that last dying blow?)   I thought they had all been killed last month when in desperation I fogged the upstairs bedroom with poison (after getting in bed one night and discovering one waiting for me there).  But this one must have survived, and hit the middle toe in my left foot, which swelled up so badly that I could barely pull on my boots.  I limped around all day Friday in increasingly excruciating pain, and Friday night found me applying ice most of the evening to reduce the swelling.  Thank God for a beesting that put the exclamation mark on my wavering decision not to run this race!

 !

Friday we are planning (weather permitting) to climb Mt. LeConte.  And next Monday, August 26, marks the beginning of yet another 16-week marathon training plan.  Once again to the summit!