adventures of suburban running

The winter broke slightly, warmed up just enough to allow for running outside. A new adventure: runs in the suburbs of Kansas City. It is more entertaining than I would have expected.  The family has 3 standard runs they refer to, and these are what I was running when we first arrived (weather permitting). There is the small lap, which is about 3 miles and is a 5 block square. Then there is the golf course lap, which is kind of an out-and-back run. We run out about 3 blocks, then cut back onto the golf course and follow the edge of the golf course back to the house. This lap is about 2.5 miles.  The other significant route is the “big lap”.  This combines the small lap run with another couple of blocks to make a large 6 mile loop. I started on the golf course lap, graduated to the small loop, and now regularly hit the big lap.

These runs are all on a pavement path alongside the busy traffic.  I get bored, and would prefer an exploratory run, something a bit more meandering and less predictable.  I find myself dreaming about joining the local trail running groups (the trail nerds, or the mud babes). They are anti-pavement (understandably), and meet a couple of times a week to pound out some miles at local parks and trails. I haven’t been able to synch my schedule with theirs yet, and maybe I am just a bit intimidated by the fact that they train for ultramarathons on muddy terrain.  Until I become a “Mud Babe”, I will just do variations of our loops, get to the parks when I can, and just overall build up my base so that the trails don’t kick my ass too badly.

One evening around dusk, I decided to squeeze in a late run before it was completely dark.  I started out on the “big lap”, but a couple of blocks into it I noticed that the path split. I was looking for an adventure, feeling pretty good, and didn’t care where I ended up. The air was crisp and cold, the kind that makes you feel a bit like you are having an asthma attack just breathing.  The light was drifting away, but I had a few good minutes of sunset illumination.  I took the new path. It took me underneath on overpass, and along a creek (I can’t tell out here which waterways are natural, which are man made, this one looks ornamental in placement as it winds around the golf course and then out to the business section – maybe it is just for runoff.). I was delighted to leave the sound and sight of the road. The creek was quietly bubbling along, frozen in spots.  The path stretched out before me as far as I could see. The creek on the left, trees on my right. I could see the tall business buildings and parking lots behind the trees, but if I looked straight ahead, it felt like I could be in the woods. I focused on the sound of the wind rustling the dry leaves, the occasional splashing of water from the creek. My breathing felt loud against the other sounds. I tried to calm it, slow it down. As I ran further it became darker. I realized I didn’t know where I was going and this could be potentially dangerous. I had two options, turn around and go back the way I came (meaning I would now be going under a pitch black overpass, no thank you) or continue down this path and hope it pops out somewhere with lights and make my way home from there on the larger streets.

I decided to continue on. I should have explored it in the daylight first, but I didn’t want to wimp out on this new trail. Plus the thought of going back didn’t sound fun, the overpass a little creepy.  So, I tried not to freak out, just enjoy the run. The moon was large, and helped light the trail, but the shadows all were in question. Funny how keen your hearing becomes when you loose the sense of sight. I suddenly could hear every rustling of wind, my feet crunching the ice and occasional snow patch seemed as loud as thunder. I focused again on my breathing, it really does help to calm my nerves.

Just about the time I was going to give up on this path and maybe even just dart through the trees to the nearest parking lot (civilization is seriously only a matter of feet in either direction) – I came around a slight bend to see another overpass – a highway, and the path split in two. I am sorry to say that I was actually relieved to find the highway. I took the turn to the right which follows it, and I now knew where I was relative to other things.  The highway gave me plenty of light, and the path opened up, the highway was on my left just beyone a fence and about 20 ft of grass. On my right was a big grassy field, which was nice because I could see anything long before it got close to me.

I had just relaxed and felt more like I was safe in this comfortable urban setting when I heard a sudden crunching of snow just to my left. I saw nothing, there was some low woody shrubs, a couple of leafless trees, but nothing suspicious. Then I heard it again, this time I saw a dark shadow, low to the ground, moving quickly. Something was running beside me on the highway side of the fence. It bolted ahead, I caught a better glimpse of the shape. It looked like a medium sized dog. I kept running, not sure if a dog was trying to escape the highway, or attack me.  I could see just ahead of me that the fence abruptly stops. My mind was preparing me for an animal attack. I didn’t want to look like I was frightened and running away from the dog, encouraging it to chase me, so I did what I thought was reasonable…I started to kind of softly sing to the animal. Hoping I would just get on it’s good side, it would see how nice I was and just want to be friends. My voice must have further startled the animal, as soon as I started it bolted across the path just in front of me. It wasn’t a dog at all. It was a coyote. Then another followed it. The first was quickly out of sight, and disappeared into the trees I just came from by the creek. The other ran a ways, then stopped and just watched me. I decided it was sizing me up – dinner or threat? I was encouraged that I was more intimidating for shear size, and felt relived and revived.

I practically sprinted to the next overpass,  cut up onto the street and made my way home on a now familiar street.  I felt alive, adrenaline pumping through my body from the excercise and the adventure. From now on though, I will either drag Jonathan along on these night runs, or just explore new territory in the daylight.

Time Passes & Adventures Wait

It’s impressive how much Kristine and I haven’t been doing. Or at least how much we haven’t been doing outside. While Kristine talks with her parents in Northern Idaho the weather there is exactly how the weather here should be but isn’t. It’s raining and in the forties there while we’re sitting with highs in the single digits and a wind chill well below zero degrees. We’ve had a couple snow storms since we’ve arrived and the weather hasn’t warmed back up enough to melt any of it. The snow has flooded the sidewalks and I watch the days tick by while imprisoned to run on a treadmill.

Our only adventure seems to be while driving around on these particularly ‘fun’ driving conditions. I’ve gotten my fill of all the slip and sliding around that I couldn’t do while living in Seattle. Kristine gets tense anytime my hand so much as hovers over the E-brake.

We’ve just started going through some of my parents old stuff looking for their snow shoes and hoping we find them be out lay tracks in the snow asap. The single biggest consolation for Kristine while being cooped up in the house has been her favorite Christmas present of all, a tetris-like board game called Blokus!

Homeward Bound

Let’s face it, being sick isn’t any fun. In fact, when I am sick I don’t want to do anything. I certainly don’t want to do physical activities, or have to concentrate or think too hard. I just want to be warm, comfortable, and rest until I feel better.  Well, that is the situation we found ourselves in at the tail end of our stay in Tucson.

Jonathan came down with a nasty cold. He is Mr Tough Guy though and indulged my desire to keep going. We left Tucson and headed for Cochise Stronghold. This is a beautiful area in the Dragoon Mountains with huge formations of pink granite.  There are lots of multi-pitch climbing routes here, but no guide book in print. We found a few descriptions online, and a few in our Arizona climbing guide, but I think route finding (or making) would be part of the adventure out here.

We camped on the forest service road in the valley below Cochise Stronghold. We woke to a perfect day, except Jonathan wasn’t feeling any better. He didn’t have energy to hike or climb, and certainly not for the route finding or multi-pitch climbing we had planned. We both had books, so tried to rest and read awhile and just see how we felt. This didn’t last long. We needed a plan (and water). We drove into the nearest town to stock up & rejuvenate. The nearest town is Tombstone. We had a good time wandering the nostalgic streets, petting donkeys and goats in the free petting zoo, but we didn’t locate any food worth stopping for or a grocery store.  We skipped the gunfight (they wanted $5/each to watch) and drove on. The next town had a grocery store. We picked up food, filled our water containers, and ate some bad Mexican food.  Jonathan wasn’t feeling any better. If we couldn’t climb we wanted internet. This town had nothing. We agreed to not go back to Cochise Stronghold, primarily because there isn’t a town close by with decent food or internet & we needed some comforts of a home base.

We thought we would try out New Mexico.  We didn’t really have a destination, we just planned on getting to a larger town to hang out for awhile until we were ready to climb again. We made it to Las Cruces, home of New Mexico State University. New Mexico was noticeably colder than Arizona. We found a comfortable coffee shop and were happy to hang out here for awhile. We stayed the night, did a quick driving tour of town and jumped back on the highway.

We still hadn’t come up with much of an agenda. We were just driving, hoping that at some point Jonathan would regain his energy and we could start to play outside again.  There were a couple of problems with this. We were driving North, and in central New Mexico we hit snow. We weren’t equipped for playing in the snow. The other issue is that as we approached Albuquerque I started to come down with Jonathan’s cold.  By the time we got there, I couldn’t get excited about getting out of the car. We walked around the old town center, which was nice but my energy and enthusiasm was lacking. I am not the good sport Jonathan was when I am sick.

We sat in the van and deliberated. We could stay in Albuqueque maybe a day or two until we regained health. We could keep driving North, Jonathan wanted to show me Colorado Springs. We could drive South to warmer weather, and maybe eventually find some climbing in NM or Texas.  Or, we could just end the road trip and make our way to Kansas early. Kansas would mean sleeping in a bed, hot showers, all the comforts of home.  It felt like a no brainer.  I was ready. Jonathan agreed. We would eat dinner and start on the road to Kansas.

We put two hours into the drive which was all snow and ice. We passed a semi that had jack-knifed. I was nervous, we were tired, so we called it a night and camped at a rest area.  We woke early the next day and were on our way. We stopped only for gas and food. We were on a mission now with home calling.  We flew through Texas.  There was something sad about Texas. Maybe it was small acre-sized pens packed with a dense sea of cows, while just outside their fence were vast open spaces. Perhaps it was a stretch in Texas when I was driving (Jonathan was napping) and I counted 22 dead deer along the road. We kept a steady pace, and soon enough we were passing through the red soils of Oklahoma, and then we crossed into Kansas. The last hour seemed the longest of the whole trip.

We made it. We pulled into the driveway and knew rest was near. We were home, this road trip was over, but new adventures await.

Portraits for Change

Kristine and I will take a standard portrait of each other every day of the trip, starting today, with the hopes that we capture as much change by the end of the trip as the water fountains in the Plaza of Kansas City. We’ll only post one picture a week in the page ‘Portraits’. We won’t be posting every days picture thinking that you can’t watch a flower grow if you stare at it, but we will make a virtual flip-book of each of us at the end of the trip that is made up of all the pictures. There’ll be incremental satisfaction each week as one new portrait pops up every Sunday, all leading up to the grand finale and the explosion of all our portraits.

We’re kicking this off with pictures taken this morning after cooking our first meal out of the eurovan at Golden Gardens Park. It was a beautiful morning, windy, and the lake was filled with sailboats, kick surfers, and wind surfer.

Our meal was simple: toast, cream cheese, scrambled egg, salt, peper, and a bit of paprika, which Kristine noted was especially good with the egg. Stove top espresso was icing on the cake, which we enjoying laying in the grass, soaking the rays.

Two notes about the pictures:
1. My picture is a bit blurry. This was due to a technical issue that should be resolved for future portraits.
2. I shaved yesterday. It was explicitly for the beginning of the beginning and I won’t shave again until 2010, unless of course Kristine stops kissing me goodnight.