Archives for April 2011

Michael takes a contemplative early morning run through the mist, beneath familiar constellations.

October 31, 2010

Ran again today. A little longer. Stronger at the start and finish. I made the turn at 13th and headed up past the Coliseum with its gun show and ski swap (a biathlon kind of Sunday, I guess). I had a small digestive issue, familiar to all long distance runners, which required a quick stop in the trees.

I started up slowly, just to be sure of things. I noticed that the clouds had separated and Orion was bright in the night sky. My friend M often points out Orion when we run the track, and it is usually followed by a wide arcing movement to the Dipper. As did I this morning.

The last quarter moon was shadowed with a misty ring of subtle color. I crossed the bridge behind the power station. The radio towers are ghostlike riders in the mist. There was thick ground fog rising from the open fields behind the fairgrounds, with haloed lamp post lights in the distance, a bright moon overhead and dark grey clouds above the ridge line to the south.

The mist rising and clouds lowering left a sightline to the top of the hills, bathed in moonlight, rising sentinel over the valley. I nodded to no one in particular and turned for home. Finished with a little old time miler’s stride and did the requisite push ups and crunches. Time to take some pictures, put unsettled feelings away and get on with my Sunday.

Photo Credit

“Orion and Sirius”  David DeHetre @ Flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.

Michael decides he is no softie and no Kenyan either, but he is a runner with marathon dreams.

October 25, 2010

Raining like hell. Had a bad night after a long and unsatisfying conversation with a friend. I’m at a loss as how to help this friend or myself. Only thing that will help after a big cup of dark roast is to lace up and light out. I have to go shoot some runners later (shoot as in photograph). So now is the time. But the rain is hard and cold, and I have a meeting to go to, as well as words coming.

On the back of my tech shirt from Run in the Country, it says in big white letters: “There is no such thing as bad weather, only soft people.” Bill Bowerman of Oregon Track fame said that. And he should know — he coached some of the best to their best.

Oh look, the rain has slackened and I ain’t no softie (sometimes). Time to go.

October 26, 2010

I went out this morning before daylight. My friend Joe said, “Run a mile, see how it goes.” So I did. Didn’t go all that well. Then I ran another mile on account of the fact that if you’re going to run a test mile, it’s better not to do it all in one direction away from home. It’s important to calculate that getting back will be yet another mile. Also, it’s probably not a good idea to run downhill for the first mile on account of…well, you see where this is going.

Kenyan runners start out very slowly to see how they are feeling — if it’s not good, they stop. Generally, though, they finish up at a five-minute-per-mile pace. It occurs to me, after years of careful study, that I am not a Kenyan runner and even my inner Kenyan doesn’t really understand the five-minute pace.

All told, I ran a couple of miles plus this morning, and lifted weights later today.

I’m starting to dream Comrades Marathon dreams again. Comrades is 56 miles from Pietermaritzburg to Durban in South Africa, or the other way round, depending on the year. In its iconic value to runners worldwide, Comrades is the rough international equivalent to the Boston Marathon.

Or maybe I’ll just run the local mountain series — trails mostly — up and down and quiet in the big trees. These are dreams you understand. Tomorrow is another day.

Photo Credit

“Comrades Marathon, South Africa”