guerrilla flotilla

hillbilly? i'll have you know i have a
masters degree in primeval zoology.

guerilla running and gorilla running are not the same thing.

except for the uninhibited romping through arboreal wilderness, one might suppose.

***********

the good folks at guerrilla running racing club say the hillbilly half is "the hardest half marathon in washington state." 

that's a bit of hyperbole, but still, the course is a good test of up and down hillage, single-track rockery, and shoe-sucking trail ponds. the other element it had going in 2014 was rain, and lots of it.

the forecast on saturday called for no precipitation until afternoon...and i believed it. i am so dumb. first rule of outdoor activity in the PNW: never believe the forecast. rule number two: go ahead and believe the forecast, but prepare for not-the-forecast.

i broke both rules, so of course the rain started early and never let up. it did, however, get heavier at times. my three tech layers put up little resistance, and four days later my shoes are finally drying out. 

not complaining, mind you. if you're going to run trails here, you get what you get, and you don't get upset. otherwise, yonder is the treadmill.

one caveat to this general rule is when it's raining bullets. then you can get upset, so long as being upset doesn't keep you from moving away from the vicinity as quickly as possible.

apparently there's a shooting range in close proximity to the course. which is fine, if you're into that sort of thing ~ unless you demonstrate that you can't be trusted with the second amendment:

"...beyond the heart-pounding hills of the course itself, several runners reported stray bullets whizzing through the treetops over their heads.

"One runner posted later on the event’s Facebook page: “I thought it was all Hillbilly authenticity. Wow! Officially the craziest race I’ve done … glad nobody was hurt.” The race directors responded, “We are fans of controlled crazy … the wackjob in the woods, not our kind of crazy.”

~ jade belzberg, trail runner magazine

so, yeah. that happened.

***********

earworm du jour: defying gravity, from the "wicked" soundtrack. this one was apt, and even worked in my favor this race. i've done worse, earworm-wise, that's for sure...

As someone told me lately
"Everyone deserves the chance to fly"
And if I'm flying solo
At least I'm flying free
To those who'd ground me
Take a message back from me
Tell them how I am
Defying gravity
I'm flying high
Defying gravity...

for the record, at no time did i fly around this course. as noted above, however, i did kind of romp through it. the rain and the rocks and the mud wove themselves into a pleasant brocade that went by in a blur, right through the finish line.

and sure, maybe that was because i had to get up at oh-dark-thirty for the drive from seattle to olympia...or maybe it's because it was one of those times when you just get into the zone early and stay there for the entire race.

i don't know about anyone else, but that's how i experience the "runner's high," when everything feels good and you're just breathing and moving and not thinking about anything in particular, all set to a little mental soundtrack that stays in the background and doesn't make you want to bang your head into a tree.

i digress.

the point is, the 2014 hillbilly half was both memorable and nubilous; demanding but not debilitating.

and nobody got shot.

win. win.

***********

hillbilly half marathon
time:      2:07:00
48/212   Overall
2/14       M 50-59

no go

Spend a week in the sun for $40/night!

i just got an email from the nice folks at vacation home rentals. 

they want me to spend a week in the sun in fabulous florida or amazing arizona.

note to the nice folks at vacation home rentals: are you kidding me?

why would i want to spend my money in those two hell-holes?

florida is basically a huge shooting range where anyone can die at any time for no reason. in other words, NRA utopia.

arizona has the guns, along with a broad streak of homophobia running down its spine. if you're white and wearing garish golf pants, you're probably safe. everyone else? duck and cover.

the nice folks at vacation home rentals.com would like everyone to believe they're all about the "family-to-family rentals."

additional note to the nice folks at vacation home rentals: uh, no thanks. my family isn't really into the gun violence or the discrimination.

we have a little bit of money to spend on vacation travel...but it won't be spent in effed-up-florida. or anti-gay arizona.

thanks, anyway. 

 

storming the fort

no jacket required. still, better to have it and
not need it than to need it and say,
"omigod i wish i had a jacket. what kind of idiot
doesn't bring a jacket to a winter trail race?!"

Fort Ebey Kettle Run
20-Mile

"i finished first in my age group! i'm going to disney world!"

~ me

(fine print: there were only two people in my age group.)

***********

dramatic hill (1 ea.). if the wind blows out
here instead of in, you're swimming.

fort ebey state park, on the west coast of whidbey island in washington state, should be on your list.

whatever kind of list you keep ~ bucket, to-do, grocery, whatever ~ this place should be on it.

the scenery is spectacular. the trails are like carpet. the woods are tranquil. and the peace of mind that settles over you while you're there is real and lasting. 

which is to say, it lasts until you're driving home and you wade into traffic and other drivers steal it from you and drive off recklessly, laughing.

i digress.

fort ebey state park. splendid place for a nap or a hike or a breathtaking trail race.

running here is sneaky-tough. the trails are not too technical. the weather is not too adverse. the hills are (mostly) not too dramatic. and yet somehow over the course of 20 miles you gain over 4000 feet of elevation.

your brain doesn't necessarily register the cumulative climbing, but your legs surely do.

when you're done, your tech layers are soaking wet, even though the promised rain never really showed up. waiting for the shuttle, you notice you're shivering, even though you put on dry layers and a winter coat and a stocking cap. right about then you think, "huh, it's colder than i thought." and, "i'm pretty darn tired." and, "where is the f*cking shuttle??"

the point being, 20 miles at fort ebey is good for the body, as well as for the soul. you get your exercise, your meditation, and your lesson in first-world privation, all in one tidy package.

if you're very lucky, you get to have a warm and pleasant conversation with john morelock, author of "run gently out there," who is blessed to call these trails home.

you get to meet local trail kahunas ultrapedestrian ras, kathy vaughan, and van phan.

and you get to watch trey bailey line up for the 10K race on three hours' sleep, still processing the jet fuel he sampled the night before...and finish 3rd overall.

these things, too, should be on some list, somewhere...because they're the makings of a very good and memorable and smile-inducing day.

***********

where did all these kettles come from...and more importantly, what's a kettle?

geology lesson here.

quad quake...

(...or, how i ran the orcas island 25K and limped to tell about it.)

"dude. beer me."

ow.

ow ow ow...

my legs hurt.

going up the stairs is tolerable, but going down, there's an explosion in every step.

level ground. that works best.

***********

james varner, by all accounts, is a nice guy.

the race director for rainshadow running events stands there in the pre-race briefing, smiling, joking, looking a bit like jerry seinfeld. at the end of his races he waits at the finish line, smiling, laughing, high-fiving the finishers as they pass.

and then there's the after-party. food, beer, and music galore.

by almost any definition and perspective, it's impossible not to like james varner.

until you're in the middle of one of his beastly, diabolical courses.

at which point it's possible to believe that maybe ~ just maybe ~ james has a dark side.

***********

the start to the 2014 orcas island 25k was innocuous enough. so much so, in fact, i didn't even know it was happening. one moment we were standing there chatting, the next we were all, "hey, we've started!" cue frantic button-pushing on the garmin and walk-shuffle into a run.

for the first five and a half miles or so, we were treated to a nice little jaunt through the woods. the sun was shining, birds were chirping, zipity-do-dah, what a wonderful day. 

right about then someone hit the UP button on the elevator and sh*t got real.

the powerline trail, it's called, and it goes straight up the side of mount constitution. no meandering, no cute little switchbacks...just up. and then up some more. just when you think maybe you've reached the summit, (and someone asks, "is this the summit?"), you give back some elevation then head up some more. beastly.

i kept moving at what i thought was a respectable pace, and by that i mean i was walking up with purpose, rather than sliding back down the mountain.

the whole time i was thinking, "it's good that the trail is dry." add water and one could easily imagine people sliding down the powerline trail like michael douglas in 'romancing the stone.' or arnold schwarzenegger in 'predator.' hell of a ride, but at the end the summit is still waiting, saying "well? i'm not going to climb myself, here, people."

photo courtesy of glenn tachiyama
http://www.tachifoto.net

at mile 10.8 you reach the summit. coming out of the filtered light and relative darkness of the trees, suddenly you're blasted with the brightest sunlight and most spectacular view ever. the shock to the senses is overwhelming, and i found myself staring out at it, completely unconcerned that i was in the middle of a race. i wandered past the aid station, reaching for my camera. i was at the top, and it was gorgeous, and i was going to instagram it, by god. "at the top!" the caption read, and i could've added a few more exclamation points without shame.

i don't know how long i stood there, soaking it up, but i know i could have stood there much longer. it was a race, though, so eventually it occurred to me that it was time to go. 

right about then, somebody hit the DOWN button.

logically, going down the mountain should be the easy part, because gravity. but the fact is, unless you're prepared to release the brakes (and risk a long, ugly faceplant to the bottom of the trail), going down is where the damage happens. legs that worked so hard going up now are asked to move you along quickly but with at least a smidge of control.

for four miles there was a blur of down. my sense was that we were passing some of the most beautiful parts of the trail...but i never felt safe enough to look up and look around. in my mind there's a strong correlation between looking up and faceplanting. and while my face is no work of art, i prefer to keep its pieces where they belong. 

yes, i could've stopped to look around. but i didn't. i was actually enjoying the trip down...it was going quickly and i was in a good rhythm, moving well. the woman ahead of me (hi, Jess from bozeman!) was struggling a bit with the control part. i mean, yes she was ahead of me, but she was right on the hairy edge around every turn, every switchback, every bit of loose trail. "this is it, she's gonna bite it," i thought several times. but several times she pinwheeled her arms, made an adjustment on the fly, and stayed upright.

until the time she didn't. down she went, boom, right in front of me. thankfully, no faceplant, but she hit hard and rolled. my first and only thought was to help her up, ("no one gets left behind on my watch!"), and in the process i nearly fell over top of her. 

we got her to her feet, shaken not stirred, and continued on. the bottom was approaching, and we assumed at that point we'd be done. we weren't.

the finish line is not immediately at the bottom (looks up, screams "varner!!"). instead, it's about a mile further up the road. rolling single-track trail that's a relief from the steady up or nonstop down, but challenging nonetheless. "there's still a ways to go," said a veteran of this rodeo. "stay patient!"

i was staying patient, because it was right about then that the cramp hit me in the left thigh. it was actually running up the inside of the leg from the knee, and i'd never experienced such a thing before. "it'll pass," i insisted. "it'll pass it'll pass it'll pass..." eventually it passed...but i could still feel it days later.

the rest was uneventful, unless you count high-fiving james at the finish line. which i totally do. 

thanks, james. and right back atcha.

***********

orcas island 25 k (actually 15.8 miles)

3:15:25
5/43 (50-59)
54/269 (overall)

threat assessment

america is the land of the gun and home of the school shooting.

as a result, i may have PTSD.

i just picked up an email from the principal at my daughter's school, telling parents there was a "shelter in place" alert at the school this morning.

a few words into the message, i was suppressing a panic attack. no exaggeration.

fuck this.

***********

the rest of the story: there was a reported bank robbery in the neighborhood. shelter in place at the school is standard procedure in such situations. all clear was declared at 11:40 a.m.

***********

i just re-read the email. same reaction.

the large impact of the small surprise

Edward: It's just that...very few people surprise me.

Vivian: Yeah, well, you're lucky. Most of 'em shock the hell outta me.

~ from pretty woman

***********

this is no big deal, and i'm not sure why it's stuck with me the past several days.

the first week of december, seattle had a streak of cold weather. highs in the upper teens, lows in the low double digits. for the local homeless, it was a tougher time than usual to be living on the street.

on the way to dropping the boy off at his bus stop, we routinely pass one of these folks, "homeless, anything helps" sign in his hands.

coincidently, in the trunk of my car i had a couple of old sweaters that i intended to drop off at goodwill or one of the clothing donation boxes you see in shopping center parking lots. instead, stopped at the light, i hustled to my trunk, grabbed one of the sweaters, and handed it over to a cold and grateful man. 

i jumped back into the car, the light changed, we drove on.

that's it. end of story. i didn't give it any more thought than that.

until earlier this week. same stop light, same guy. i rolled down my window to hand him five bucks.

him: thanks. much appreciated.
me: you bet...

i was prepared for that to be it, but there was more.

him: i still have that sweater you gave me. thanks.
me: ...
him: ...
me: you're welcome...i hope it helps. stay warm...as warm as possible.
him: doing the best i can.

he lifted a tattered-gloved hand and gave a small wave. i waved, the light changed, and i drove on.

***********

what i was, was shocked. i'm pretty sure i believed, without really thinking about it, that exhausted, desperate people barely hanging on to survival have no excess capacity to recall who gave them what, and when.

maybe exactly the reverse is true: maybe we drive by so many homeless people every day that we stop seeing them as people and just refer to them as visual landmarks. any reminder that these are fellow human beings is an actual jolt.


***********

this is a tired epiphany. i read it over and think, "congratulations on articulating the painfully obvious. what are you, 12 years old? idiot."

it's fucking embarrassing.

and if i really think these are "exhausted, desperate people barely hanging on to survival," then i should be doing more. if he were a dog sitting there shivering on the corner, i'd get out and try to help...why on earth do we do less for people?

i feel ill.

***********

stopped at the same light this morning, the same guy was sitting with his sign at the corner. i grabbed a clif bar and a banana, put my car in park, and ran up to him.

me: good morning. how 'bout a little breakfast?
him: thank you, sir.
me: you're welcome...

reflexively, i almost told him to have a good day. yeah, he's not going to have a good day.

i ran back to my car and jumped in just as the light changed.

he gave the same small wave as i passed by. i waved, and drove on.

***********

up above i said, "this is no big deal..."

idiot.

the year that was...something

quietly wild. quīld.

"may your new year be filled with quiet moments in wild places."

~ meghan hicks

***********

2013 was a year of incredible stress.

totally first-world, self-indulgent, self-inflicted stress, but hey, we're americans ~ that's what we do.

with that in mind, we'll set aside further discussion of our eye-rolling "problems," and focus on the good stuff, of which there was plenty.

in no particular order...

there are two new lives in our midst. with the addition of a pair of cats from the seattle animal shelter, suddenly the four-legged creatures outnumber the people at our house. this is extra-splendid, since we didn't have quite enough chaos in our lives already. 

henceforth the black and white cat will be known as "daisy." the tortoiseshell (calico?) cat is "miel." ftr, miel is french for "honey." i now speak to the cat in french to orient my brain to the french name. "bon jour, miel" i say in the morning. "bon soir, miel" i say in the evening. that pretty well exhausts my french-cat translations for the day, but it gets the job done.

unimportant note: i had no say in naming the cats. i would've gone with "jade" and "zinfandel." or "cat 1" and "cat 2." but as t.s. eliot said, all cats have three names ~ a regular name, a fancy name, and a name only the cat knows.

i'm meditating on that third name, for both of them. one day, i'll figure it out...

***********

we moved into a new house in november. it's still a stress mess.

***********

i ran some in 2013. most of my miles were covered in washington state, which is one of the finest places to run, anywhere on the planet. if i had to pick one place to run the rest of my life, it'd be here. that said, the planet is full of eye-popping places, some of which i had the great good fortune to amble. or gambol, as the case may be:

honolulu and laie, hawaii
boulder and centennial, colorado
san francisco and sonoma, california
vancouver, BC
côte d'azur, france

if i do half as well next year, destination running-wise, it'll be a very good year indeed.

2014 goals: 
trail marathon
trail 50k
one organized event per month
1,500 total miles

not sure how that last one will be possible. whatever.

***********

there were old jobs lost and new jobs found in 2013. the missus and i were tossed about in the surf, employment-wise, but somehow landed on our feet. sand in our shorts and seaweed in our hair, but still...standing. from a career (and paying the bills) standpoint, we would like very much to remain fully upright in the coming months. just saying.

"how much is one day worth?"
"i don't know, how many do you have left?"

***********
(not sure when i'm gonna work yoga back into my routine. but i could really use it.)

***********
i love me some hgtv shows, but their regular use of the term "man cave" is an abomination that should be stricken from the human record. a few pithy words on this subject from a local trail runner of some renown:

"A cave is a place you retreat to, a place where you curl up and die. Being a Man is something you do 'out there,' in the real world, exposed, vulnerable, and alone, where others can see you, judge you, mock you, discourage you, and even impede your progress. If you have to be in a warm, secure, protected place to do your man things, then you're not doing it right."

~ ultrapedestrian ras

***********
i mentioned the idea of a 50k running event to a friend, and she wanted to know if i'm crazy. in fact, i believe her exact words were, "are you crazy?"

i may be crazy. i mean, it's entirely possible. but i'm getting to the point in life where a little crazy seems entirely called-for.

besides, once you've done what once seemed crazy, it becomes sane, then passé. and you do something different. something more. something crazier. and so on. the corollary to this is, "if you want different results, you have to do things differently."

here's to a different 2014. for everyone.

***********

first thought, 2014

"You're not puking and nothing's broken, so get going."

~ vivian mcqueeney

claire, epilogue

"Claire Davis, the 17-year-old who was shot in the head during the Dec. 13 shooting at Arapahoe High School, died Saturday afternoon with her family at her side."

hundreds of AHS students and alumni are changing their profile photos on facebook.

"rest in peace," the badge says, because that's what people say when someone has died.

i don't really understand the "rest in peace" concept, and it doesn't seem appropriate anyway. 

if we're going to offer up words of remorse, they should be, "we're sorry, claire. we're sorry we were unable to prevent your needless death and the suffering of your family. please forgive us for failing you so utterly, and for those we will fail today and tomorrow and every single day in the coming new year.

"forgive us for the fact that if we could somehow magically bring you back today, we would do absolutely nothing tomorrow to change the circumstances that took you from your friends and family.

"even if for that there is no excuse, and can be no forgiveness." 

our community is in crisis, but we've lost the ability to do anything about it. we starve our meager mental health services, and we bow to small gods speaking to us from large screens.

and we worship guns. oh, my yes. we love the guns that are killing our children and maiming our future. 300 million guns laying around for absolutely anyone to pick up...and still we are viciously hostile to the slightest suggestion that we make doing so more difficult.

**********

maybe we say, "rest in peace" because that's what people have done since long before we were born, and we find comfort in the ritual. 

maybe, though, we say it because we can't bear the thought of what our loved ones might say if they had one more breath to take and one more message to deliver before continuing on their journey.

something like, "i won't rest ~ and i won't give you a moment's peace ~ until you do something."

we shouldn't have to hear it. if we loved them and wanted their deaths not to be in vain...we'd already be doing it.

1200 and counting

"your fate is intertwined with
cheddar-flavored potato chips."

with a couple weeks to go in december, i passed 1200 miles for 2013.

for me, that's a lot of miles, considering they were running ~ not driving ~ miles.

come to think of it, that's even a lot of driving miles, if they're all in one trip. they go by quicker in a car...but they're a lot more enjoyable on foot. i digress.

by the end of this year i'll have run about 200 miles more than in 2012. (no idea how many i drove, year over year, only that it was too many.)

so, in some circles and by some standards, progress.

today at the Y i chatted briefly with a guy i used to play basketball with. talking about running, he said, "you've totally transformed yourself."

i wasn't sure what to make of that, so i demurred. "a little bit," i said. "a little bit." then i left, because he started changing his clothes, and that wasn't really something i needed to see. 

point of order: you can't "totally transform" yourself "a little bit." i mean, how would that work? 

"you've totally transformed yourself..." 

...is not something you hear every day. as we don't know each other well enough for him to be talking about the inner workings of my soul, i assume he was referring to my appearance.

i may, in fact, look a little different than the last time he saw me. i've had to buy lots of smaller-waisted pants this year, and even some of the older-new pants are now too big around. 

this is a healthy kind of change, so hey, thanks for noticing. still, appearance is transitory and frivolous. if there haven't been more important changes, i've really been doing something wrong. with that in mind...

important changes: i never have more clarity, or more peace of mind, than when i'm running. the farther, the better. the miles don't have to be fast (mine seldom are), they just have to be done, at whatever pace is manageable. 

i can go out any given day and run for an hour or two (sometimes three...rarely four), which is in itself transformative. the capacity to do this is a gift, and one i no longer take for granted.

because there was a time when one part of my brain would say, "time to go run," another part would have a tantrum. "ugh! why?? do we have to? i don't want to!" and so on. now that voice usually just says, "okay," or even, "cool! let's go do this thing!" seriously.

occasionally, though, i still hear, "ugh! why?? it's cold out there. we don't have time...!" this is the voice of the blerch, and i fear it. its continued existence in my psyche is a reminder that large-waisted pants could return to my closet at any time. 

and that it may be possible, after all, to totally transform yourself ~ a little bit.

which is still better than none.

***********
2013 has been a good year, in so many ways that matter (more on that to follow).

running-wise, it's been extraordinary ~ about 1200 different ways.

***********

2013 Events and notes:

(i ran at least one organized event per month, a streak that began in may, 2012.)

·    Bridle Trails Winter Running Festival ~ typically this course is a mud pit (the promotional stickers say, "i survived the mud.") it was cold, though, and the trail was frozen. bonus!

·    Lord Hill Trail Run ~ another cold day (in the winter ~ imagine!) but above freezing. there was mud. and a very steep hill. lord.

·    Lake Sammammish Half Marathon ~ a flat, fast course, on which i ran a PR (1:36-ish). i may have hit peak-time with this one.

·    Squak Mountain Half Marathon ~ toughest half marathon course in my limited experience. lots of elevation. it snowed at the top. that was fun. 

·    Rattler Half Marathon ~ my first race in the methow valley. a tough, gorgeous course. a welcome warm day for a change. no actual rattlesnakes.

·    Soaring Eagle 20-Mile Trail Run ~ my first longer-than-13.1 event. it rained. i laughed.

·    BolderBoulder 10K ~ it was so great to be back in boulder after a many-year hiatus. altitude was a factor, but still...great. 

·    Taylor Mountain Half Marathon ~ not too tough, not too taxing, and...i fell down. not too painful. 

·    Cougar Mountain Half Marathon ~ i don't remember a thing about this race.

·    Redmond Watershed Half Marathon ~ a nice, summer jaunt through the woods.

·    Lake Chelan Shore-to-Shore Marathon ~ my first marathon. i finished. i finished under 4 hours. oh, yeah, it rained the entire time. still, i'd do it again.

·    Xterra Gunstock Trails Half Marathon ~ awesome. you just can't go wrong with a trail race on oahu. warm, humid, hawaii. perfect. 

·    Grand Ridge Half Marathon ~ a slog. my training for this event was, uh, inadequate. and, it was cold. i dislike being cold. 

·    Redmond Watershed “Reindeer” Half Marathon ~ cold. 17F cold. but sunny, which helped. a little. and...i fell down. jarring, but no lingering effects. nothing wine and naproxen couldn't fix.