Return to the Rain

Day 32: More than 1 mile, less than 2.
Day 33: 1 mile. X Train.
Day 34: 3.59 miles.
Day 35: 3.6 miles.
Day 36: 4.5 miles.

It's been a busy week so writing took a back seat to more important things.

On Sunday, after we returned from South Carolina, I headed out for a quick run to get my mile in for the day.  After sitting in the car for almost four hours it was nice to get out and move. We drove through some nasty downpours and I half expected to see a tornado in the distance on I-95 in eastern North Carolina.  Back at home it was just cloudy and the two-tone asphalt suggested the rain had come and gone.

As I jogged past the Food Lion and the McDonald's I felt good.  My legs were strong even after putting them through the mud the day before and the grey skies were keeping things cool.  When I made my turn to come home I saw the sky getting darker and the first hints of thunder rumbling in the distance. Small pinpricks of cooler water started to hit my arms, legs and face and I picked up the pace a bit.  I wasn't looking forward to a drenching and dodging lightning bolts wasn't the agility exercise I was looking for.  I could be home before the worst. 

It was the smell of the air, the rain on my bare skin, the color of the sky and the wind picking up that brought me back almost 25 years to a bicycle ride with my Dad.

I am not quite two years old. I'm buckled into the canary yellow molded plastic kiddie seat bolted onto the back of my Dad's bike.  Mom is pregnant with my little brother so she's at home.  It's just me, my Dad, the trees and the sky.  There's a slight breeze as we float through the neighborhood.  The bike's gears creak and grind a bit as we climb a hill headed out to the sleepy country roads that ring our neighborhood.  The air is cool and leaves rustle in the trees and along the sides of the road.  I fall asleep, lulled by the rhythm of the bike: side to side to side to side, slower now on the straights, quicker on the hills.

I wake up to darker skies and noises I am not used to.  Great rumbles, booms and searing cracks.  Lights flash and light up the sky as water falls onto my face.  My Dad's back, all I can see other than the sky, shows spot after spot turning into larger blobs and then his shirt is just darker.  His hair looks like it does at the pool or when he gets out of the shower.  My canary yellow seat smells different now that it's wet.  The nylon straps are cold with held water.  I am not scared.  I am not worried.  I take in every drop and every lightning bolt and every thunder clap in awe.  No tears, no crying, just wonder at the world that seems so angry.

I have no idea how far we are from home.  At some point we glide down the driveway and into the garage.  There's calm but hurried unbuckling and before I know it a wall of warmer air hits me as we walk in the door and straight into the bathroom downstairs.  Mom gets towels and they wrap me up after stripping my sopping wet clothes off.  I am not afraid, I am not scared, I would just like to be dry and warm please.  Mom and Dad follow the towels with a hairdryer on the low setting.  The bathroom is tiny and it has a door that slides in and out of the wall.  The air is warm and thick with evaporating rain but we are there together and I am warm and dry.  The drone of the hairdryer continues on and Mom and Dad's voices are hushed and I fall asleep in the towels, in their arms.

Looking back at this, my earliest memory, I am hard pressed to think of another time when I felt so safe.

Ryan

Lessons from the Mud

Day 29: 4 miles.
Day 30: 1 mile.
Day 31: 4.2 miles, 32 obstacles, mud.

My knees are scratched up and three days later I'm still finding mud in my ears and under my nails.  The physical remnants of the Mud Run will eventually fade and the lasting impressions will be of laughs, triumphs and a whole lot of fun.  A healthy dose of "I hope..." goes along with both the former and the latter.

Aside from some nasty traffic on the way in our day on Culler's Farm south of Columbia, SC was a success.  Any grumpiness from sitting in a car, not getting lunch, or being in the hot sun faded as we crossed the starting line, headed into the woods and ran through our first muddy ditch.

Unfortunately it was tough to get back into the course if you weren't running so I don't have any pictures of the course to show.  The Mud Run website  has pictures and they may post the professional shots taken during the race. 

I do, however, have a good group shot from the end.  We don't look nearly as muddy as we felt--mainly because a giant water hole "cleaned" us off a bit-- but you can see we had a good time.

The most memorable aspect of the run for me was the way our team chose to participate.  While others were running past us and jockeying for postion at some of the more crowded obstacles, our team chose to encourage the other mud runners and regularly checked on those walking or standing to the side. I was proud to be alongside my teammates and was reminded that the Y spirit can't be contained behind the walls of our facilities. I say all this at the risk of sounding overly sentimental, cheesy and inspirational and I'm OK with that.  It rings true and most of the time that's more important than worrying about a few readers gagging on their lunch.

Aside from my teammates there was another person present this weekend that truly made everything possible in a number of ways.  Katie, my beautiful bride, was there to cheer us on, take pictures and make sure no one stole our stuff while we were in the mud.  It was hot and there was no real way for her to watch us so she had a less-than-stellar experience.  I am very grateful to her for putting up with my adventures, especially when I'm not the best planner in the world.

Even more than this weekend, Katie deserves recognition for being my champion over the last two months.  Every time I doubt myself or question my decisions she's there to remind me why I began in the first place.  She won't let me sell myself short even on the days I want to half-ass it or quit altogether.  So, my beautiful bride, I thank you for putting up with me and, as promised, an outfit and a pedicure are most definitely due! I love you with all my heart and I wouldn't be half the man I am without you.

So, who's in for next year?

Confucious Say...

Day 27: 4 miles.
Day 28: 2 miles.

Another 4 mile run coming up today and some strength training afterwards. Mentally preparing for the Mud Run this weekend as well.  Hard to find mud around here without rain.  I'll be sure to post pictures (before AND after) next week.

My 2 miles yesterday helped to break me out of a funk I've been in most of this week.  Nothing serious just a general feeling that I could be doing much more with the time given to me.  Part of this comes from a lull in my schedule but more so it comes from a general cycle I find myself going through every few months.  Life seems to be stagnant and I crave something new, something that will give renewed meaning and purpose to my everyday thoughts and actions.  I usually end up looking at graduate school programs and contemplating what might be out there for me in the world.  Of course in a week this will subside and I'll be back into the lovely mess of life, loving every second of it.

In order to break out of the funk this time around I've given myself a reminder of what it takes to make a change even if it doesn't mean a sweeping revolution in how I live my life.

I'm reminded of cheesy inspirational posters and pieces of paper that moms pack in their kids' lunchboxes but I'm getting the desired effect.
This goes back to my last post about the importance of making first steps, no matter how small.  So this is a rinky-dink reminder that, in order to make change and in order to do something, I have to begin.

Happy Thursday.

Ryan

Why Not?

Day 23: 1 mile.
Day 24: 6 miles.
Day 25: 1 mile.
Day 26: 1 mile.

I'm staring a 4 mile run in the face today after a successful weekend and a great 6 mile run Saturday.  I felt great after 6 miles and could have continued on for another 2 with no trouble.  This bodes well for the upcoming weeks and especially for the craziness I have planned this weekend.

A few months ago I decided to join a team of fellow Y employees who were planning on completing the United States Marine Corps Mud Run in Columbia, South Carolina.  For those of you unfamiliar with the race, it's about 5 miles of obstacles and, most importantly, mud.  Of the two Y teams participating from our area, I am on the "complete" team--YNOT is our name-- which means that we will not be taking ourselves too seriously as we flounder through neck-deep mud and attempt to crawl through hellish obstacles.  After watching the videos, I'm not so certain I trained well enough.  The "compete" team from our area starts a good hour before us so they won't have the satisfaction of passing us.  I can't say I'm sorry about that.

As I write this I'm beginning to see that this Mud Run was my first step towards making some changes in my habits and my personal goals.  I've done 5Ks but never anything as taxing as a muddy obstacle course or a half marathon.  I wish I could pinpoint the impetus for starting down this path but it's hard to nail down.  No mountain-top experience that woke me up to a world waiting to be explored.  Just a gradual realization that I'm capable of so much more if I say so.

So for my few readers out there, what are you putting off?  What would it take to make it happen? Why not do it?  Leave a comment and let me know. I'd love to talk to you about it and join you if time and money allow.

Ryan

More on the Half Marathon

Day 22: 4 miles.

Running's taken on a different feel now that I'm working towards a goal. Each time out requires more of my attention than in previous runs. In order to build up my stamina I need to push myself and find longer routes. This forces me to discover new routes, which is good, but it also takes some of the freedom away from my runs. If it weren't for the purpose of the half marathon, I don't think I'd be as motivated.

As I mentioned in my previous post, a member a the Y asked me to participate. I didn't go into a great amount of detail then because I didn't have details and, quite frankly, I hadn't paid my registration fee so I was worried I might chicken out. Now that the money's in and I'm deep into training, I'll fill you in.
Ted Murphy, a member at my Y, has Stage IV melanoma (meaning it has spread around his body), and his family has started an effort to raise money to support research. You can see their website, and read their story at http://www.gotohellmel.org/. Ted and his wife Stacy will be running the half-marathon with me and I look forward to the fellowship and laughs along the way.

I couldn't post this without a simple request. If you are able, please consider donating to the nonprofit organization Melanoma Research Foundation (http://www.mrf.org/).

If you choose to give, please do the following:

1. Go to http://www.gotohellmel.org/
2. Click on the “Donate” tab at the top of the home page.
3. Follow the instructions on that page. Please do note that when you are filling out the online donation form to indicate in the “Your Comment” field that you are donating the money to support my participation in the race.
There is also a post-race fundraiser taking place on November 7th. You can get more information about the
event at GoToHellMel.org by clicking on the "Post-Event Party" tab.

Cancer is a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad disease in any form. If you're able, I hope you'll support us
as we put one foot in front of the other towards the finish line.

Thanks for reading. Email me (ryanjeves@gmail.com) if you have any questions or want to get involved!

Ryan

Trash Day

Day 21: 2 mile hill work.

After talking to a few people who've done the City of Oaks/Rex Healthcare half marathon I realized I needed to do some hill work in preparation for November 7th.  Unfortunately, it was trash day and empty garbage bins lined the road. My route may need to change next week. The hills were good but I can tell I need to work on my stamina if I'm going to complete 13.1 miles without walking, which is my goal.

My weight training and cross training routine took a back seat in the past few weeks.  Now it's time to get that back in line.

Ryan

Ryan Had a Little Lamb

Day 16: 1 mile on the treadmill.
Day 17: 4 miles.
Day 18: 4 miles with Warren.
Day 19: 1 mile.
Day 20: 4 miles on the treadmill.

Let me set the scene:

A young boy plucks away at a guitar he hasn't quite grown into.  The notes seem disembodied, some free jazz musings perhaps.  he pauses and with greater certainty and concentration picks out "Mary Had a Little Lamb."  he arrives at the end and stops, smiles.  This is the first time he's played it through without strings buzzing and wrong notes.  He calls to his older brother in the other room who walks in looking annoyed.  Little brother tries to explain the miracle he just experienced.  Older brother sighs and calmly lets little brother know to call him when he's learned the opening riff to "Purple Haze."  Older brother leaves and little brother looks defeated.  After flicking his middle finger at the spot older brother just vacated, he bends the rest of his fingers around the neck of the guitar, lowers his head and begins again.

This is how I feel sometimes when I talk to people about my running streak.  I'm so excited and every thing's happening for the first time and I just want people to feel the excitement, the newness.  Thankfully I've not run into any killjoys like the older brother in the scene above but I still feel like I'm bothering people when I talk about my new found ambitions and goals.  Compared to many of my Y members and hundreds of thousands of runners out in the world I'm still learning the simple beginner chords and melodies of running while they've been playing "Free Bird" for years.

So I guess this is an apology.  Each step and stride brings me closer to the day where I will shut up and run and I won't pat myself on the back for anything less than 6 miles.  Until then I'll try to tone it down if you'll try to remember what beginning feels like so you can share in the joy and freedom too. After all, who wants to hate on "Mary Had a Little Lamb?"

New Challenges

Day 15: Just over a mile.

Every time I sit down my hamstrings and glutes scream at me.  My X Train workout was harder than it appeared at first blush.  Surprisingly and thankfully running is about the only thing that doesn't hurt.

When I started this streak and this blog, my goal was to challenge myself while presenting an honest portrait of the ups and downs along the way.  I've enjoyed telling people about my efforts and yesterday it created an opportunity I couldn't pass up. 

One of my members told me about a team he's putting together for the City of Oaks Half Marathon in Raleigh on November 7th.  He could see by my face that I was hesitant but he talked me through it and reminded me of the fact that I am currently running at least one mile every day and my long run is just over four miles.  It's not a stretch of the imagination for me to get to 8, 9 or 10 miles in the next few weeks.  So, in short, I decided to do it and I'll be signing up this weekend.  I won't be running alone and I have a good base to start from.  As you might be able to tell, I'm still trying to talk myself into it to a degree. 

When I told Katie, she looked at me in a way that suggested "What crazy path are you leading us down, how much money is this going to cost, and how much skinnier are you going to get?"

To my beautiful, wonderful wife, if you're reading this: I promise not to drag you anywhere you don't want to go.  $85.00 this time and I promise to plan accordingly with every event I choose.  I hope not much more.  We can't afford to buy me all new clothes.

So who wants to run with us on November 7th?

Ryan

Capabilities

Day 14: 3 miles on the treadmill at the Kerr Y.

I didn't think I had three miles in me today.  Mondays and Wednesdays are X Train days for me which means an hour of putting my body through a series of circuits.  Today's hour:
100 jump rope
20 warrior lunges with a 25 lb. plate
20 thrusters with barbell
20 burpees/push-ups
5 times through a hurdle series--Right side jumps, left side jumps, forward jumps

This all comes after a good warm-up and we all needed a longer-than-usual cool-down at the end of the hour.  Howard, who teaches Wednesdays, usually includes a good amount of power lifting and squats, two things that I struggle to do at a basic level.  Howard's a great coach and regularly offers advice and encouragement which makes me feel like less of a screw-up as I see the other women and men in the class work through their squats and lifts with ease.  I always enter class timid and nervous about what's in store and I always leave class feeling like I accomplished something.  As Howard says at the beginning of each class, his job is to make us work harder than we think we can and our job is to pace ourselves.  The two ideas seem at odds with one another until the hours past and the balance of pace and push can be felt in every muscle.

So how did I manage three miles after working hard just a few hours earlier?  I planned on running a quick mile to be done with it for the day.  I needed to start dinner and, truthfully, I wanted to sit on the couch for a bit.  But at the one mile mark my muscles felt strong so I decided to go for two.  At the two mile mark it just made sense to make it three.  I could have kept it up for one or two more but I ran out of time.  The energy I had surprised me and reminded me of a conversation I had with Sam, a Y member, earlier today about real and perceived limits we have when it comes to running and exercise.  We got to talking about marathons, triathlons and Iron Man races.  While we both acknowledged the mental aspect of endurance races we were also able to acknowledge our unashamed lack of motivation for such events.

I think it's important to know my limits and to stop before I've gone too far.  I credit this awareness for my lack of injury (knocking on wood furiously) in the past year as I've made changes to my lifestyle.  Without it I'd surely end up with twisted ankles, pulled back muscles and an assortment of other ailments.  But limits are meant to be tested and I am sure in the next year I'll find a way to put myself to the task.

Ryan

Time Flies

My first day at the Durham YMCAs was one year ago today.  To say today is different than that day would be the understatement of the year.

What's happened to you in the last year? How are you different now than you were then?

Ryan

The Yin and Yang of Nature Hikes and "No Reservations"

Day 10: 1 mile with Katie.
Day 11: 1 mile.
Day 12: 2 miles on a new route.
Day 13: 1 mile on the treadmill.

While the running remains consistent over weekends and on holidays you can expect the writing to slow down for mental decompression. Much as I disconnect from the iPod from time to time it's also important to disconnect from the interwebs every now and then.


The weather was near perfect this weekend in our part of the world. Hurricane Earl had me a tad bit worried but passed by with minimal effect this far inland. Left behind were beautiful blue skies and low humidity; perfect weather for being outside. Katie and I went for a hike in Umstead Park and it was good to be in the woods for a bit. I'm always amazed at the relative peace and quiet inside the park's borders despite being so close to major roads. Though the trail we took was closest to the planes coming and going from RDU I was still able to lose myself in our footfalls and the smell of the trees.

The rest of the holiday weekend was spent watching obligatory college football games, movies (Did you know Francis Ford Coppola directed Jack? I had no idea). But a new discovery topped all: “Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations” on the Travel Channel.

My wife will tell you that I love weird and cerebral TV shows so it seems a bit strange that I’ve missed this show over the last 5 years. However, fifteen minutes into the first full episode I remembered why I always skipped it: frequent dining on meats and parts of animals you don’t usual see at the grocery store. Even a cursory perusal of the “No Reservations” website and turns up pictures of things I’d never think of eating. The foods, however, are idiosyncratic footnotes to the illuminating interactions with people and cultures that make watching the show worthwhile.

My Labor Day run took me on a new route. If I keep to the same sidewalks I will lose my mind and my streak all at once. Neither I nor the homeowner’s association wants that to happen, trust me. As I made unfamiliar turns and quick decisions about where to put my feet next, much like the “Choose Your Own Adventure” books I loved to hate in elementary school, my run unfolded before me. This got me thinking about the importance of discovery and how it drives me when life gets a little to stagnant.

Our hike through Umstead Park felt like discovery at first. But after a mile on the trail the trees, plants and sounds all seemed to repeat themselves as though we were on an amusement park ride and the soundtrack ran on a continuous loop. After a mile I wanted to walk away from the trail and into the untouched woods around us. I wanted to climb over the fallen trees and find a stream to follow for a bit. Instead I stayed on the trail, like the good law-abiding hiker I am, and followed the loop back to the visitor center and the car. The air was clear and it was cool under the trees but I felt little changed from before the hike began.

Watching TV hardly ever feels like discovery. I gravitate towards shows I know and enjoy, comfortable shows that act like fuzzy slippers for my eyes. Though all my favorite slippers share characteristics with “No Reservations,” I’d already formed my opinion and was hardly ready for it to change. But change it did and four or five episodes later a Wikipedia article was up on my phone. The opening line of each show drew me in: “I’m Anthony Bourdain. I write, I travel, I eat and I’m hungry for more.” Before the show even begins he’s set himself apart as a writer who happens to have a travel show on a cable network. This uncompromising and authentic attitude carries through each moment of the show as he narrates each scene and provides insight into the thoughts and feelings a camera can’t possibly portray. Bourdain may be a little rough around the edges but it’s authentic and refreshing in our “reality” culture. The foul language, smoke, and misanthropy pouring out of Bourdain’s mouth at regular intervals, along with the forgotten and discarded bits of various animals he puts in, makes him easier to relate to than any real housewife I’ve been subjected to of late. My discovery of Anthony Bourdain refilled my creative tanks and reminded me, yet again, that everything deserves a second (or third) look.

So, after a good three day weekend, going for a hike caused a piece of me to die while almost an entire day spent in front of the TV created an epiphany of minor-epic proportions. Somehow that’s fitting for a holiday dedicated to giving people a break from work. I’m sure my next discovery won’t come so easily, but at least now I’ll be better prepared to receive it.

Ryan

A Rolling Stone gathers no moss

Day 8: Two miles on the treadmill at the Kerr Y.  Listened to Sticky Fingers by the Rolling Stones.

I didn't feel like battling the heat today so I took it inside and on the treadmill for a bit.  I needed to zone out and the Rolling Stones obliged me with some great tunes.  Had to skip one or two songs because they were too slow but I was pleasantly surprised at the rhythm I could keep.  It was also nice to be a "nobody" at the Y.

Day 9: One mile loop through the neighborhood.

Today was a test. As people hear about my streak they either encourage me or express doubt and warnings about the toll all this running could take on my body.  My knees felt a bit funny and my back was tight and sore from the X Train workout on Wednesday. I've done my research and I know the potential dangers.  I would love to quiet all the doubters but I do worry about the stress of running every day. What would I end up with today?

Thankfully everything held together.  My stretching and strength workouts need to happen with more regularity or I'm going to end up a mess on the side of the road one day.

Looking forward to a three day weekend and a chance to relax.

Ryan

Great Expectations

Day 7: About 1.5 miles.  Sunny and clear but hotter than expected.


I set high expectations.  I want epiphanies every time I tie up my shoes and head out the door.  I turn off the music to better hear my own thoughts.  My thoughts, however, rarely cooperate with illuminating and clear sound bites.  Instead a mix of worries, observations and random associations burbles up and it becomes impossible to hear anything approximating Truth. Lately I've taken to feverishly hoping for messages from God on my runs.  I feel like I need answers and I would like them sooner, rather than later.  My inner monologue currently drowns out any messages from the Divine.

Two insights broke through the chatter today:

1) Sometimes a run is just a run.  There may not be any answers hiding around corners and in the cracks on the sidewalk.
2) I will not ever eat peanut butter in large quantities before a run ever again.  No matter how hungry I am I will not do it.

Ryan

Cicadas and Chihuahuas

Day 6: One mile.
I wasn't planning on running my mile at 8:45pm but there I was, running down poorly lit sidewalks as fast as I could so I could get back to my wife and my quesadilla waiting for me after a longer-than-expected day at the Y.  My pace was good and my muscles felt more willing to work than they have in a while.  Every mile brings the feasibility of this whole endeavor into sharper focus.

I won't spend any time on why my day was so long.  It's not worth repeating and I'm the only one who cares in the end.  I will say that I had a lot of frustration to get out and I wasn't all that surprised when I got home and realized how much the mental fuel helped to quicken my pace.

The run itself, aside from all the mess, was quite nice.  The air smells different after the sun's gone down and the air is still warm and a bit heavy from the heat of the day.  I kept drifting back to night's of flashlight tag in cul-de-sacs running through yards and bushes and laying flat on my belly to avoid the piercing beams.  The droning cicadas masked my labored breathing from the seekers on those nights and they were with me again last night, providing company as I pounded down the sidewalks and streets.

The cicadas couldn't drown out the little chihuahua who began to bark as I approached her driveway.  I thought she might be coming out to greet me but she started to give chase.  Thankfully a dog's territory seems to be proportionate to its size and she gave up before I had to contemplate the implications of kicking a tiny dog in self defense.  If I keep this up as long as I intend to, I'm going to have to deal with bigger dogs down the road.  Hopefully a better plan is in place by then.


Ryan