Week Ending June 10 - Philosophical Paradigm Shift

First things first.  I had a pretty good week last week.  I got out and did something everyday and strung together a few runs at the end of the week that all felt pretty good.  The hip has been feeling progressively better every run.  I'm going to continue with a couple of days worth of cross-training (biking, hiking, etc.) per week as well as stay on the core work and stretching.  Complacency regarding the small things is what leads to injuries, like, say, tearing up your hip flexor.


Here's the week:


Mon. June 4 - Rode 6 miles in :45 (8 mph).  Upper UW-Headquarters-Summit-Lower UW-Aspen-Pole Creek.  Nice little morning ride on my way back to Laramie from Cheyenne.


Tues. June 5 - Ran 8 miles in 1:01 (7:37 pace).  Ran over to The Wag to meet Rachel and Horsecow for a ride up to the trails.  Met the rest of the crew at Tie City and went down Pole Creek, up Aspen, out Lower UW to Summit, then took the cutoff over to Headquarters and came on in.  My hip bugged a little while climbing Aspen, but was pretty loose by the end of the run.


Wed. June 6 - Rode 7 miles in :45 (9.3 mph).  Did a big Summit-Browns loop.  Beautiful morning out there.  Talked to a guy at the trail head who appeared to have slept there in his car the previous evening.  He was out from California on his way to Lincoln to see his daughter who attends UNL.  He is not the first person I've seen "camping" at the trail head this summer.  I'm not sure that's legal, but the campground at Tie City has been closed for 2 or 3 summers now, so screw it.  


Thurs. June 7 - Ran 8 miles in 1:01 (7:37 pace).  Early morning (I was on trail before 7am) run at the Jack.  Did the Summit-Browns-Headquarters loop.  While the hip has been feeling consistently better, I've been cautious about pushing it too much.  Case in point, I normally run this loop counter-clockwise, climbing up the Overlook, Browns, and the backside of Summit.  Today, I went clockwise, limiting my time and distance climbing.  Seems to have been a good idea.


Fri. June 8 - Ran 9 miles in 1:12 (8:00 pace).  Double Black Diamond.  I absolutely love this trail.  It's ridiculously fun to run.  I had watched a video from Salomon about Kilian Jornet earlier in the day and I was nothing but inspired.  I had visions that I was running like he runs while on DBD.  I know, however, that I probably looked like a fat, slow, lumbering beast compared to Kilian, but it was a fantastic run, and I'll take what I can get at this point.


Sat. June 9 - 8 miles in 1:03 (7:52 pace).  I crewed the top aid station with Alec at Pilot Hill in the morning, and was so inspired by (and a little jealous of) all those hardy souls pushing it up the mountain that I had to go out and run.  I did a Pole Creek-Haunted Forest-Super Secret loop in 85 degree heat.  That, I didn't like so much.  The run was fine.

Yucking it up on Pilot Hill.  Photo: Alec Muthig.

Sun. June 10 - 8 miles in 2:30 (18:45 pace).  Medicine Bow Peak.  I got to Lake Marie at around 9am.  I had, fortunately, thought to bring warm clothes since it was about 25 degrees when I started.  It didn't get much warmer, especially thanks to a 30-35 mph wind.  

Southwest end of the Snowy Range from Lake Marie.

I started up the trail and made myself work pretty hard.  I wanted to see how quickly I could get to the top.  I alternately hiked and ran (downhill and flat sections) until I got to the top after a little over an hour.  It was a beautiful day in spite of the wind, and the views were nice and clear from 12,013 feet.

View of the Snowy Range from the summit of Medicine Bow Peak.

Pretty bundled up for June 10.  

I ran down the Lewis Lake side of the peak, and then went back to Lake Marie via the Lakes Trail.  That trail still had snow on it and was pretty sloppy in places.  It was also cool enough that a lot of water was still iced over, and I did manage to slip and fall about ankle deep into a little stream.  That was pretty fun.

I love these mountains.

Starting the Lakes Trail.  Old Main is the center peak.

After the hike, I drove into Centennial for the obligatory green chili pizza and PBR.  Pretty nice little Sunday morning.


Week's Totals:
Miles: 54 (41 run, 13 bike)
Time: 8:17 (6:47 run; 1:30 bike)


Year to Date: 906 (813 run; 70 bike; 23 hike) 
                    107:30 (94:26 run; 7:34 bike; 5:30 hike)


Now, to explain the "philosophical paradigm shift" of this posts' title.  Last week, I boasted that I would run Bighorn regardless of being injured and generally unprepared for a 50-miler.  However, after discussing it further with some people, I decided the best course of action is to sit this one out.  Live to fight another day.


I talked briefly with Nick Clark after Pilot Hill Saturday morning.  He wanted to know why I wasn't running, and I explained to him that I hurt my hip flexor sprinting at the end of the Horsetooth Half.  He looked at me quizzically and asked, "What were you sprinting for?"  My answer: "Ninth place."  Nick shook his head at me and asked, "Why?"  I didn't have an immediate answer.  After thinking about it later, I came to the conclusion that I sprinted for ninth place, essentially meaningless, because that's what I was raised to do.  


I started running track when I was in fourth grade.  Since the beginning, the objective was to win or place as high or beat as many people as possible.  My running has been rooted in competitiveness nearly my whole life.  You kicked at the end, you raced, competed, ran down who you could, and helped the team by scoring fewer (cross country) or more (track) points.  That's my background.  It's ingrained in me.  It's almost second nature to try to lay people out at the end.  Go for the jugular, so to speak.


Nick's borderline disgust at my explanation for kicking for ninth place made me realize something.  While Nick himself is a competitive runner, and a very successful one at that, he also is just a runner.  And one of the fundamental differences between the trail guys and the track/road guys was clear to me.  While I'm sure guys like Nick have that killer instinct to go for the win, they also recognize when a race is decided and move on.  Was there a difference between me getting ninth or tenth place at Horsetooth?  Of course not.


What I'm trying to say here is that I need to move away from being so competitive.  While I do desire to be fit and race well, I also would like to simply be running.  If I'm hurt because I pushed myself too hard by being too competitive, then I can't run period.  The past few weeks have really made me realize how much I need to run.  It's the core of who I am.  It's how I express myself.  It's my therapy.  It's perpetual, spiritual.  Back in college, when we joked about Sunday long runs being like religion, we really weren't too far off. And not being able to run has been emotionally and spiritually draining for me.  I need to do it.  So it's up to me to be smart about it and accept that it's okay to get tenth instead of ninth in a race.  Just enjoy the run itself.  Connect with it in that moment and enjoy it.  It doesn't need to be anything more than that.


I also talked with Coach Sanchez Saturday evening at the post-Pilot Hill potluck.  He and I had a great conversation over a beer (or two in my case).  I explained to him the injury situation and he told me to stay home.  "Ragan, how many times do I have to say there is a fine line between tough and stupid?"  He, of course, is right.  That man thinks of everything.  He and I also talked about the old days, the old teams, his days at Adams State in the 1970s and the crazy workouts Coach Vigil used to have them do (30x880yds with 220 jog rest!!!!), and, of course, the guys.  


"I used to see you finish runs and sit on the bench there in front of the field house and pay your respects to your teammate.  I know how close you and Kevin were," he said.  "I saw you out there and said, he's on the team.  I knew you were the guy I wanted.  I'm glad you stuck around."  Coach put a lot of faith in me for what, at the time, was no reason.  Then he stood up for me and gave me a chance.  Without that, I honestly doubt I'd still be running today.  Twelve years after I first met him, he still coaches me, still teaches me, still inspires me.  He still knows exactly what I need to hear exactly when I need to hear it.  


With that, I will stay home to live to fight another day.  In the meantime, I'm going out for some runs.  Don't know where, how far, or how fast, but that doesn't matter.  All that matters is the run.