Trying to Find Time to Catch Up

Trying to find time to catch up…

I’ve sat down with the intention of updating this blog many times in the last month, but nothing has come of it. To say that life has been busy since the Born to Run race would be a gross understatement. I knew that things around work were getting ready to be crazy with the approach of our summer session, but I thought surely, by now, I’d have had a moment or two to catch a breath… Alas, that is not the case. So, I write this somewhat tired and hastily, but with the intention of at least getting a few moments from this busy month written down, for posterity if nothing else.

The run to work

My first week back from California was quite busy. As the Logistics Coordinator, there are lots of details to attend to prior to the start of each session. I always do my best to look at the bright side of things, so when I needed to pick up a vehicle from our mechanic to get it to the office early in the morning, I was excited because that meant I would have a bonus of ~3.5 miles added to my morning commute. I did a ton of walking the week after the race while in L.A. and had squeezed in a short 4mile run the night after I had gotten back into town. My feet still felt a bit tired, but no more than I had expected. All systems go, this was encouraging, and I felt it was the best sort of payoff I could expect from fairly consistent training. I set out in the morning to run to Celia’s house to pick up the work rig, and everything was going fine. The route I take is slightly different than my normal morning commute, and is definitely more urban. Specifically, it’s a lot more concrete, pavement and cars. Still, its not unbearable. I was moving along at a decent pace, around 8:30/mile. At about a ¼ mile away from Celia’s, something happened…out of nowhere! All of a sudden, the muscles in the bottom of my right foot freaked out and felt as though they would all snap. WHAT?!!! This was insane. I slowed down to a jog, then a hop, then a slow and somewhat delicate walk. I made it to the rig, shaking my head, wondering what in the world was going on with my foot. When I made it back to the office in the work rig, I took off my sock and shoe to see if I could find the cause of my foot freak out. It was strange, the bottom of my foot was swollen, between the pads of my feet, and it was hot to the touch. Not. Fun.
I iced it, I elevated it, I tried to stay off it. The staying off it side of things was nearly impossible, as my job doesn’t always lend to plenty of time sitting around. Then there was the problem of getting home. The beauty of living outside of the city limits is, well, living outside of the city limits. The disadvantages are few in my opinion, but highlighted in times such as this. Public transit doesn’t always reach the places you might need to get to. So, I took the city bus from my office to the stop closest to my house, which is still about 2 miles out. 2 miles, no big deal, but I was trying to be smart about not continuing to aggravate this mysterious new injury, mostly because I wanted to get back to running, sooner rather than later.  Also, I’ll be honest, this was a feeling I’d never had in my foot, and it was starting to seriously freak me out. It truly felt like my tendons were going to snap. Not. Cool.
I actually did the smart thing the next day, and drove into work. Even depressing the gas pedal caused tenderness, so I tried my best to mentally abandon my hope of running later in the evening. I placed a call to a friend who does massage, and begged for her help. Fortunately, she was able to oblige. We made dinner, hung out with her sweetheart son, and she worked her magic. To my good fortune she had recently learned hot and cold stone techniques, which really felt great. Our best guess was that I had seriously inflamed one of my ligaments, which had then pushed together two tendons, which then rubbed against each other, causing inflammation and irritation. Wow. Way to go foot, that’s some complicated stuff. She told me to stay off it, for as long as I could, and I promised to do my best. However, knowing that work was going to be hectic, I was seriously concerned about missing out on my morning and evening running commute, as I rely upon that for meditation and decompression. Still, I recognized that my foot needed some rest, so I would be better served to just lie off of it, so that I could get back to my regular running routine sooner. 

 
The Little Red Rocket, Resurrected

 Since I couldn’t run, and cycling on my track frame felt equally taxing on my foot, I temporarily brought my old road bike out of retirement. You didn’t really think I was just going to drive everywhere, right? So, I pumped up the tires, excavated my cleats from the depths of my closet, and traded my running commute for a cycling commute. The L.R.R. has seen many races, and crashes, and adventures. This is part of why it has been retired. Also, I had a friend build me a new custom frame (I’m small, its hard to find frames that fit well), and the new frame is so beautiful, I’m unwilling to put junk parts on it. As a result, it’s still an incomplete bike, and not ready for the road. So, the L.R.R. returns, for a few more hurrah’s.  I’ll admit, it felt strange to have the ability to coast, it has been so long. It felt nice to be clipped into my pedals, and I still really only have 3 gears on this bike, as my groupset is old, tired, and not willing to come completely out of retirement. . 

 
True Trail Runners Wedding Reception

 
I have expressed it here in nearly every blog post in some way or another, I will say it again; I am so glad to know Dallas and Renee. These are two incredible individuals, and ‘meant for each other’ doesn’t quite begin to describe them. I was so happy to be in town for their wedding reception. Its always amusing when you get people out of the environment you’re used to seeing them in. There were many comments about people recognizing one another while not wearing running clothes. At least we know that TTR’s can clean up and look respectable when necessary.  I really enjoyed the chance to chat with folks from the group out of our usual element. It was especially nice to have a chance to talk with Ross Z, who along with Gene J, are getting ready to pass the torch of leading the TTR’s to Dallas and Renee. Ross and Gene are both extremely accomplished runners, and caring, personable individuals. I won’t go on too long about the reception, other than to say once more what a spectacular group TTR is, and how lucky I am to be a part of this group of folks. For Renee’s account of her wedding and more, go here.
Renee and Dallas, I wish you many breathtaking moments in your new lives together, both on and off the trail. 

National Trails Day and the Mexican Spotted Owl

In conjunction with REI, SCC agreed to lead a trail work project in the Catalinas for National Trails Day. In preparation for the event, I ended up meeting with the Coronado Forest folks and discussing, largely, our inability to work on much of the trails in the area. This was not due to any lack of ambition, or need of attention to trails in the area. No, this was due to the mating habitat of the Mexican Spotted Owl, which apparently covers the vast majority of the Catalinas. Oh, and their mating season is 8 months long. Yeah. Crazy. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m stoked for those owls to be there, and I’m all for preserving biological diversity, particularly in sensitive areas, but it would be a bold face lie for me to say I wasn’t disappointed in the small area in which we’d be able to work. Part of our initial proposed work was on the Incinerator Ridge trail, which all my TTR pals know is very overgrown. Enter public service announcement here: When you’re out on your favorite local National Forest trail, and you feel its neglected or poorly managed, and you start to wonder, ‘what do these agencies actually do with all of their time and resources, why aren’t they maintaining my playground?’ Chances are, there’s something holding them up from doing the work. Whether it’s a biologically sensitive area, fire danger, etc… there are many factors that can hold up eager trail crews from doing the work we all hope for.
Also, just for kicks, here’s my 5 seconds of fame on the local news spread they did about National Trails day and our work in the Coronado, the link is here.
Anyways, everyone who showed up did a great job, really a fantastic bunch of volunteers. Props to my fellow TTR’r Mike Duer for showing up and doing his part. We both had plans for a 5K that evening, so it was a nice little warm-up to get moving on the trail before hitting the pavement for an urban race.

Gabe Zimmerman Triple Crown
On January 8th, Tucson made national headlines, and stayed there for more than a week. Unfortunately, the headlines were tragic, and connected to the completely senseless act of one disturbed individual. Lives were forever altered by the acts of one gunman, and some were ended. In an attempt to honor Gabe Zimmerman, one of the victims of the January 8th shootings, Southern Arizona Roadrunners created the Gabe Zimmerman Triple Crown. As mentioned above, and in previous posts, Ross, Gabe’s father, is an avid runner. Gabe was a runner as well, that’s actually how I first met him, was at a SAR race. So, Randy Acetta pulled people together, proposed the series, and made it happen. The Old Pueblo showed up en masse for the first race of the series. Nearly 2,000 people registered, and 1,723 actually showed up to race. Many of us TTR folk abandoned the trails to hit the road for this series. If for nothing else, to honor Gabe’s memory, and continue to contribute to the community that he worked so hard to keep safe.
There are still 2 more races in the triple crown series, if you live in the area and are interested, I strongly encourage you to sign up and participate. Randy and SAR put on great races, and its for a worthy cause. Check out SAR’s site here.
For me, it has been a long time since I’ve officially run a 5K, and even longer since I’ve run a race on pavement. The radiant heat factor was impressive. My foot behaved itself in its debut from as much rest as I was able to give it, and that was good enough for me. I ran at a pretty leisurely pace, not wanting to reinjure what I had just managed to fix, and came in around 27 minutes. The folks collecting the bib tabs, to calculate race times, were in the midst of a changing of the guard as I was coming through, so my ‘finish line’ of folks got a bit jumbled, and I think my official time ended up being somewhere around 28 minutes. No worries. For me, these races are all about honoring Gabe.
After the race I met up with Dawn to watch a free screening of Run Fatboy Run at the Fox theater, and that was entertaining. I’ve seen that movie a couple times, and still find myself laughing aloud at parts of it. Particularly, the blister scene, its just too good. All in all, it was a good, albeit long, day.

Barefoot Running in the Desert in the Afternoon in the Summer is not a Great Idea

So, finding myself super excited that my foot didn’t freak out at the 5K, and hoping I’m done being injured, I made the mistake of jumping back into old habits a bit too quickly. Specifically, I’ve been in the habit of running/walking the last 1/3 mile of my run (the distance of my driveway) barefoot. It feels really good after the run home to let my feet stretch out and get some direct contact with the ground. My driveway is all desert rock and dirt, so its not super rough, I mostly just have to keep an eye out for stray bits of fallen cholla. There I am, Sunday afternoon, having ridden my bike home and reached my driveway. I dismounted and started the walk along the driveway, and thought how nice it would be to do this barefoot. I knew it had been a hot day, and still was fairly warm. I took off one cleat and sock and did a test, setting my foot down on the dirt. It didn’t feel too hot, certainly bearable, so I took off the other cleat and sock and proceeded down the drive. When I was nearly to my door, my foot felt as though there might be cholla in it. I slowed down, lifted my foot, and looked at the bottom for the cholla, and saw nothing. As I did this, I had the same sensation in my other foot. What? Cholla in both feet? No way. I stepped gingerly to my front steps. Nearly there, I realized what the ghost cholla sensation was: I had burnt the bottom of my feet! The ground was hot enough to burn them over the course of 1/3 of a mile. Oh Arizona, how I love thee.

Fortunately, I have a pool, which I immediately stuck my feet in. Walking was once again no fun, and the burns turned into blisters in less than 12 hours. Awesome. I stayed off them as best as I could, which is pretty much impossible, but I am happy to say, one week later as I type this, the last of the blisters are finally healed, and I really hope I don’t find anything too stupid to do that will damage my feet in the next 48 hours or so.

So much more to say!!!!

But I seriously have no time, I'm scrambling just to copy and paste this post I cleverly pre-typed in my few spare moments this weekend...and now I need to get crews out the door and head out to the Land of Enchantment for a field visit. 

More about that when I return. 

I leave you with this song. It's been stuck in my head for some days.