Who knew that shortly after waking up Friday morning I would commit a heinous verbal atrocity against someone I don't know, and who is probably perfectly innocent. An accidental asshole is still an asshole no?
I won't go into detail about that event, but after I realized how insensitive I had been, my morning had become clenched and irrational. My dog doesn't care about such things though. He's just excited because he knows when the crazy small human goes away, he gets a long walk. So I put on my vibrams and out the door we went. We walked a new route this morning straight towards the mountain range. This brought us into a good bit of desert. I have to really be careful where I walk at this point because it's the outskirts and there is a lot of glass, rock and other odd debris here. Our walk soon brought us back into sidewalk land, but it turned out to be longer than I had planned. An hour had passed , over 2.5 miles in distance ,and Finley looked really thirsty.
My ankles had been feeling a little creaky. Wednesday I decided that aerobic base training or heart rate under 145 time was over. I tore my heart rate monitor off and sprinted my fool head off for a half mile or so and then finished my long run at a higher than normal pace. It felt so amazing to do this. I'm a sprinter right? Back to the the beginnings and it felt so wonderful. My ankles if they had faces though, would've been squinty eyed with lips pursed slowly shaking their heads from side to side. The morning walk with Finley though told me that my ankles were just being whiny. They were fine.
I had already been planning to go find a trail to run today, but I couldn't stop beating myself up for being such a moron earlier. I felt a another creak in my right ankle and a voice in my head said maybe you should just lay down, watch some tv and repent. I needed to eat anyway, so I fueled up and contemplated my day. After much personal debate, I decided that I would go to the mountains today and find a trail to run on.
It takes about an hour to drive to the Spring Mountains. I stopped at the visitors center and picked up a map. I asked the old white lady with white puffy hair and a band aide over her right eye what trail they recommend for running, ya know, not too steep with smaller rocks. She recommended the Bristlecone trail. Sounds like a winner. I drove up the mountain side blasting music trying to let myself feel the cooler crisp air, to enjoy the fact that I was at the mountain alone for the first time, but a certain member of my mental committee was still waving his stick in the air, glaring at me, shaking his head in disgust. All of this left a serious look on my face that was the tip of what was now a lot of swelling anger inside me.
I had texted Liz earlier that I was entering the mountain range. I had no signal now and wouldn't for some time. There's this element of danger here which is new for me and slightly unsettling. I've seen and read far too many survival shows/stories that show just how a few small bad things can come together to put a world of hurt on you quickly. My anger helped quell whatever hesitations I may have had though.
I had reached the Bristlecone trailhead. I got out and put my shoes on. I decided to use my Nike Frees since out of all my shoes, I think they offer the most stability. I walked over to the trailhead board and looked at the path I was about to embark on. Seems simple enough. I walked back to my truck to put my belt pack on, carrying my car key, a lighter, a swiss army knife, and my cell phone. (ya never know) Then I put on my heart rate monitor, and removed all the zone limits. Finally I grabbed a 3/4 full water bottle to take along with me.
This is when I met Arthur and Debra. They had just finished their workout and their truck was parked next to mine. Arthur is tall black man who reminds me of Louis Gosset Jr. He's wearing long black tights,and a red headsweats cap. He says to me " Is that all the water you're taking with you?" Yeah I thought I would take just this. He shakes his head, saying , "no no no, I 've got an extra gatorade here. You can have it." Debra who sees my NE truck plates is a big Cornhuskers fan and after some talk from both Arthur and Debra it becomes evident that I'm not into college football. I thank him for the gatorade and Debra tells me how hot it is up on the trail right now. I guess I should've cleaned out the camel back for this trip.
Arthur and Debra give me the run down on the trail. Arthur tells me he has run 34 marathons. He says he doesn't know my fitness level, but I look pretty fit. hahaha Pretty nice compliment I think. He gives me advice for running in short spurts up the trail and says it should take me about 45 minutes to reach the half way point. Arthur then tells me about the gps emergency beacon he is wearing. Got it at REI for 150 and for 80 bucks a year he gets a good amount of insurance to cover helicopter costs should they need to use one for rescuing him. Also you can send signals to a website that let your loved ones know just where you are. He says, " you never know what can happen up there man! There's bear, coyote, mountain lion up there. You just never know." I agree, it's good to be prepared.
After thanking Arthur and Debra for all the information, I was on my way up the trail holding a container of liquid in each hand. Normally this would bug the mess out of me, but today it's not a big deal at all. Also I chose to wear my sunglasses along with a hat. This was another good choice as the trail's crushed rock is greyish white and is extremely bright in the sun. It doesn't take me long to get my heart rate up to 132 simply walking up the trail. I would be going up at a 20 to 30 degree angle for the next 3 miles. I broke into a brisk jog after 5 minutes. Looking up instantly made me dizzy. I had to keep my head down. I ran maybe 30 feet and then went back to a walk. Yeah I forget I'm at around 9000 feet right now. Whoo this is going to be nuts! I do just like Arthur said, run for a small stretch as my heart rate quickly jumps to 175, then walk till it drops to 140 something. Very different from the last 8 weeks of being on a treadmill staring at a wall and having my heart rate go up to 145 till I can't keep it under having to walk till it comes back down to below 120.
The trail is mostly wide at about 6 feet with mostly crushed rock. You still have to spend a good deal of time looking at where you're running to avoid the bigger pointy rocks. In some areas the trail shrinks to a couple of feet with a treacherous 50 degree downhill slide right next to it. There are lots of grasshoppers that sound like rocks double clicking together when you come near them. There was a strange noise in the treeline, like a possessed chipmunk or something. You'll hear things above you in the trees, see a little rock roll down the hill. Did a chipmunk do that? or something else. A mountain biker slowly grinds past me. At one point, I go out on an outcrop behind a big rock because I can hold my pee no longer. I'm standing there peeing on a hill which has a breathtaking overlook of the mountain range. You can hear the quiet roar of the mountain wind all around you. At last, I have my own rave run!
I reach the half way mark at 45 minutes just as Arthur said I would. Did I just go 3 miles in 45 minutes all uphill at 9000 feet? I'll take that! I open my gatorade and take a swig. Wow, like syrup when it's not diluted like I normally drink it. I check my phone up here. Yup no signal. So I begin my decent. Running downhill is a welcomed change, but it's also very tricky. I can go a good bit further keeping my heart rate around 160. I stop to let a couple on horses come up. They have the cutest cattle dog I've ever seen. He's wearing a scarf and has icey blue eyes. I tell them I think they're dog is fantastic. They seem pleased. I'll take whatever good karma I can after my morning. I continue downhill taking extra care to watch where my feet land and control my speed. Something tells me my thighs are going to be pissed when I'm done with this all.
I finally make it back to the trailhead. There I see I big wagon full of about 15 gallon jugs of water and other supplies. As I walk towards my truck I meet a couple of guys who ask if I'm running in the race tomorrow. Here? I ask. Yah they tell me it got moved over her recently and I just ran the 6 mile portion. There's also an 11 mile portion. We talk about running on this trail and how nice it is. There's a kindness in the older white guys face that's encouraging and instantly charming. Thank God he didn't ask me to run in the race. I don't think I could've said no. Which would've been ugly because today I do not like the stairs in my house.
I drove home down the backside of the mountain which is basically 18 miles downhill. I always think how cool it would be to just glide on a bike for 18 miles. As I turn up the music, I review my run and my day. Usually running is a way to sort out your problems and find peace. However, I was still beating myself up for the events of the morning. I became somewhat emotional at this point, music blaring, coasting at 80 mph down a mountain with a still breath taking view in the distance. I would like to tell you that I sorted all this out from my outing, that running saved the day, but I can not. I am glad though that I chose the mountain over staying home. It put some distance in the events of the day. It added some clarity. Maybe that's I'll I could've really asked for? I look forward to running here next week. You never know what will happen.
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