I Can Dream, Can't I?

Dean Karnazes was named one of Time Magazine's 100 most influential people this year, because of his ultramarathon status and dedication to inspiring others, particularly children about fitness. Dean's book Ultramarathon Man, which came out the same year I was cranking up into running, '05, was one of the vehicles that inspired me to reach beyond my perceived limitations. Even now that I can manage steady mileage, there is an ultra-runner in me; more and more I'm having dreams of treks and travels, reunifications and meetups with people I don't know in strange locations. I keep getting the pressing sense of parallel levels and lives which impinge upon me and layer tendencies and passions one to another. Vitae once gave me glimpses into potential past lives in which my role as messenger was prominent, which in ancient days meant posting through runners. There is something which overtakes me when I find the 'groove' that feels more than spiritually transcendent, it's a 'right fit'- a knowing, that like other things I can do intuitively well comes naturally.

All this takes into account that I am neither fast nor super athletic. Compared to most anyone my age I suppose I am fit. I know I don't look my age. I haven't been sick in so long, I can't remember the last time. I am not as lean as I'd like, or as muscular. I don't have the body type that seems to 'muscle up' like some runners do, with their super sculpted legs and abs. But today, when I ran consistently into Ike's remaining winds, I managed to call on core strength that surprised even me; ok, so it whipped me in the end. But I did a respectable 7 miler with one stop- through wind gusts that felt like hills all the way.

I look at Dean's picture and I pull his large, masculine mass into me. I think of 50 marathons in 50 days, or the Great Western or any number of other events he's done and call on his endurance and passion to permeate the molecules of my own soul. I know there is transformation potential that goes way beyond what we believe is possible in this life; I know it because it comes from sources which defy our limited scope of understanding and logic, and because I have been transformed through the years from broken to whole.

So, run on, Dean, and my other heroes who remind us of journeys, effort and accomplishments. It's all heart when you're out there on the long roads. And it's high hopes amidst formidable odds which always brings you home.

Running into Ike

Despite being hundreds of miles to our south, pummeling away at Cuba, hurricane Ike's far outer bands are sweeping across the region, the faintest hint of it's power which raked through the Caribbean this weekend. We are as far away as we can be and still feel any effects. So despite blustery winds and occasional rain sprays, I took off for an 8 miler on the Griffin loop. In fifteen minutes I went from asleep to running. It's tough in the morning to get my engines firing, and I deliberately left the ipod at home to keep from trashing yet another one....so I loped through the first miles until circling back on 56th and then eventually heading east and into the winds.

Resistance running into wind is the equivalent of hill training. This is where I miraculously found my rhythm as I tucked myself into the force that kept pushing against me and found the power in my legs to keep up a good, steady stride. I need to find ways to get these extra jolts, realizing that I become too regimented in similar mileage and pacing...so it felt great, awesome! to crash up against the gusts of stormy weather and keep pushing it- good workout! Very tough.

It's weird to watch the poorest and most vulnerable succumb to Nature's power knowing it might have been us. There is so little fairness in the distribution of fate. I can enjoy the flash of energy She flings at us, using it as a tool in my own training, and it hardly disrupts anything in my life. Meanwhile countless others have lost all.

The balance of power as it tips from end to end makes the rhythm of the world. I beat out rhythms with my hands and feet when I run without music. I remind myself that underneath it all there is always the one-two of my heartbeat and footfall. And no matter how much it feels like the winds will topple me, I manage to keep standing.

Back to 8

"The distance runner is mysteriously reconciling the separations of body and mind, of pain and pleasure, of the conscious and the unconscious. (S)he is repairing the rent, and healing the wound in his(her) divided self. (S)he has found a way to make the ordinary extraordinary; the commonplace unique; the everyday eternal."

-Dr. George Sheehan

My sore left foot, which I had been blocking from awareness, finally earned itself a little more time out, which I took yesterday, and slept in, before going in to work to go over all my charts in preparation for an upcoming audit. I know how compulsive I am about running, because anytime I take a day off it feels wrong. But today, I had my clothes laid out, and was out the door on schedule, heading up the overpass and looping west to lay out some pretty good miles before stopping at Anderson park and a water break.

I can always pin point one mile somewhere in the middle of a run that holds the magic, the easy, fluid, light as air sensation of everything flowing well, in a rhythm that goes beyond conscious control and seems to emanate from a deep inner level of energy/'chi'. Then the minute I become aware of it I begin to separate from it as I marvel and admire and speculate on it's existence....then the following miles are effort and will, pumping and reaching for form. It's hilarious really how much we get in our own ways. How we strive and reach for excellence, yet when we have it, we find it landing on us like butterflies.

I had a good kick at the end, and felt relatively strong. I think the time off did me good, I was certainly less sore. I know every month will bring me a race goal now, starting in October, and I want to be ready to reach these benchmarks this year. At the same time, I am reaching for those moments when it all goes beyond me to another place where nothing matters except the effortlessness of motion, where I can escape, if even for a little while my own 'mortal coil'.

Ike is pummeling Cuba instead of us...and heading to the Gulf where it will put someone else in it's sites...but we certainly dodged the bullet this time. Meanwhile, the polls are showing the McCain propaganda machine hard at work, pulling ahead of the Dems in their ability to convey the message of 'command and control'. People, you have the power for change. It is upon us every day to choose who we empower and why.
Don't give it away to the Suits, the Impostors, the rogues. Remember the roots of power are born from the call of the times and tap unlikely carriers who speak the language of unity. Resistance is all around. Stand up to it, and stand firm for what you believe. Stay the course, because either way we all need to be strong and endure what's to come.

Tropical Trauma

It's very early Friday....the outer bands of Hanna are brushing by, and steady downpours are sweeping through the region. The photo shows what this storm did to Haiti, where many deaths and displacements took place. Hurricane Ike is the big concern, shooting west like a buzzsaw with south Florida in it's sites. It will be a wild ride the next week, hard to say if we will be Haiti or dodge yet another bullet....

Draggin' along

To mark my intention to run the October 30K training run in Deerfield, I took myself through a "hills and drills" routine, which I haven't done in some time. I've run consecutive days now since Saturday and it's apparent that my body is not a fan of this kind of punishment. Especially since I did my longest run Monday (half-marthon-ish), then 8's more or less until today. So I took the overpasses, then to the park for all the swells throwing a few sprints in for good measure. It was great to see the park for the first time in a while, which is now lush and green from all the rains and storms. The winds have picked up again as Hanna brushes us to the east, and all eyes are on Hurricane Ike which has intensified and consolidated itself to a potential menace for next week. I can hopefully get 1 or 2 long runs this weekend for a very respectable mileage this week, and then will need to see what Mother Nature has in store for us as of Monday.

Meanwhile, the political winds are blowing every which way. I listen to the pundits, the polls and try to take the direction of the 'gestalt' vibe....sometimes wondering if the country will buy itself another 4 years of regression or finally bump free of reactionary tactics. It's hard to imagine all the conservatives swallow the propaganda, but maybe if you are doing well, even when others are not, it's always an easy choice.

In my world, very ordinary people with extraordinary challenges are just trying to survive at the basic levels, establishing more than just their sobriety or stability. The need to adjust to the demands of modern life are more than many can handle. And which party do you think is willing to help? If you are poor and sick in America, good luck, 'cause you'll need it. Vote the Dems back in office.

"Anything is possible, but you have to believe and you have to fight."

-LANCE ARMSTRONG

Every mile

Do not see the full realization in one teaching, one phenomena, one body, one land or one sentient being. You should see the full realization everywhere, in all places.
- Sakyamuni Buddha

All runs have a beginning, middle and end. The ultra guy doing the Appalachian trail set out one day, one mile....for the first of a thousand. My short runs can be over in an hour. Today, for a long long run, I was gone for over 2-3...and completed something like a half marathon.

I was up early enough to get a cool start. The winds which picked up for the far side of Gustav still had a little kick, but things were calm and fresh on the swell of air, a few bobbles of gray clouds scattered over the horizon. After yesterday's rest, the first few miles were slow and comfortable. I headed to John Williams park for water and pit stop and decided then and there to head out Charleston and loop at University.

I knew if I circled to Taft and headed east again, I would get my long distance in for the week, since none of them have been over 9 or 10 for a while. My next stop was the corner of Taft, for fuel and water before taking the back streets to 441, where I cross over until I meet the corner at Thomas and the last water stop at Anderson park.
During the middle miles, I oscillated between break-down and re-energizing, finding stretches of rhythm broken by cramping muscles, fatigue and mental discouragement. All par for the course. The last few miles of Thomas, I found a kick at the very end, something I just do automatically now no matter how tough the run; I gave it my all until Park, and when I finally stopped for the last block's walk, my legs felt rubbery and unsteady...I knew I had taken a beating, stretched their limit, brought it home just in time.

I made it up the steps and in the door with relief and accomplishment. Every mile has it's part in making the run, and the runner. Each moment of ease is complimented by abject and crushing barriers which seem to prevent another step, or block or mile. It's a test of will, sometimes, to stick to the Plan and pull it through. The perseverance of the Path is always to stay with it no matter how much it looks like disaster is on our door. Keep moving. Slow down if you must. But know the road will wait for you to get strong, to be able to handle it if you take yourself beyond your own limits.