Getting Older

Friday night Ted and I went to Missoula for a concert (Modest Mouse).  Although Modest Mouse is one of my favorite bands, I had no idea they were going to be in Missoula.  In fact, I only learned of this through co-workers at the work retreat I attended the prior weekend in Red Lodge.  I now rely on my 40+ year old law partners for intel on cool stuff that's happening.
 
I was signed up to run the Pocatello 50k Saturday (yesterday), but it was clear to me that even if my toe could handle it, which was doubtful, a 50k after 7 weeks off of running was a bad idea.  I only struggled a little with this decision.  I know it takes me longer these days to recover from injury and am comfortable playing it conservatively.  I ran 2 whole miles in Red Lodge and my toe was sore afterwards.  So, to protect me from myself, I went online and bought tickets to the concert (at about double the normal ticket price since it had long been sold out.)

The concert was pretty decent but I quickly started complaining to Ted about the sound.  "Maybe if we move over this way it will sound better."  "Nope." 

Ted became convinced that there was skunk nearby.  He insisted it was a skunk.   In fact, many of the Patagonia clad college students in this incredibly homogeneous crowd were creating this smell, but Ted was (at first at least) innocently oblivious.

Immediately after the concert we went to our room and conked out.  It was a really long day. Ted had been up since 5 a.m. having gone to work super early.  Ted barely survived yesterday he was so tired.

I think maybe we are getting old.  Or, maybe I am just old enough to now admit that I am totally *not* cool and probably never was.

In more positive news. Sonja and I ran for an hour yesterday in the mud and so long as I wear my Hokas, which are essentially clown shoes with super thick soles, I seem to be no worse for the wear. 

So, I'm off for a couple weeks for work.  This time Bozeman.  I'll try to do something that appears adventurous so I can post pictures here on my blog and assure myself that I'm super cool. :-)

The Curse of the Itchy Footed

Quantrill's Raid (some Lawrence history fer ya)

I just got back from a brief family vacation (with my brother and dad) that ended with a quick visit to my hometown of Lawrence, Kansas.  Each time that I visit Lawrence, where I lived from ages 9-23, I feel downright funny in an overly-emotional/quasi-nostalgic sort of way.  Maybe it's because I have no family there anymore, or maybe it's because I no longer run into people I know when I walk down the main street downtown.  Maybe it's because most of the most tumultuous and impactful years of my life were spent there and I haven't yet figured out exactly how to archive those memories.  Many of them involve my mom, who died just a few months before I moved away for good. 

When I go to Lawrence, it's a flood of nondescript but strong feelings.  I am reminded of all the friends that I am no longer close to, which feels like (right or wrong) a personal failure.  I am reminded of what humid body-temperature air feels like at dusk and my friend's completely fabricated girlfriend Star (I think that was her name).  I am reminded of what it feels like to be approximately 13-22 (i.e. batshit crazy).  Those little "non-pareils" come to mind -- which I bought at Penny Annie's and binged on in the fifth grade (they look like Hershey's kisses but they're mint and have little white sprinkes on the bottom).

(It is no coincidence that I have a strong affinity for midwestern country gravel roads.  They are different from other country roads).

I feel deeply connected to the place, yet have no real connections there anymore.  It's really no longer "my town" in any discernible way, though there's no other place I identify with more closely than Lawrence.  I suppose this disconnect from "home" is the curse of the itchy-footed.

Be Brave, Be Strong

I spent the majority of my day, such that it was after sleeping late, reading a copy of my friend Jill Homer's yet-to-be-published second book "Be Brave Be Strong."  I obnoxiously demanded that she let me preview it, and she kindly indulged my demand.  "Be Brave, Be Strong" is about Jill's Tour Divide experience, wherein she rode her mountain bike from Banff, AB to Mexico.  The Tour Divide occurred on the heels of a highly traumatic end of an eight year relationship that blindsided Jill and catapulted her into the world alone and somewhat directionless.  Jill's account of the Tour Divide is beautifully written and a great read -- but it's really the honest and emotional if heart-wrenching backstory that sets it apart from your typical adventure story.  I hope she doesn't edit all of that out, which I think she is considering given the deeply personal nature of it.  Finding her way after the break-up is truly the bravest thing she did that summer and thereafter -- and she unquestionably exhibited strength in the process.

I felt inspired after reading Jill's book to finally get off my ass and go outside.  I rode the logging roads in Herron Park for about an hour this evening, and enjoyed time spent with an empty head.  I thought about nothing.  I just grinded my way up and up until it seemed like time to turn around.  It was a zen sort of ride. 

Trying More New Things

I'm all about trying new things.  Since I broke my toe and got an unfortunate taste of the afflication known as "not being able to ambulate well for 4+ weeks" (which I last had circa 2003 when I sprained my SI joint), I figured I'd better find yet another activity that allows me to be outside and get some fresh air.  Sure, I have a road bike, and I've taken it out for a spin or two since breaking my toe, but I much prefer to be in the woods these days.  Also, a broken toe seems like the best reason for more gear.  Meet "BT" (named for Brokey the Toe). 

I bought BT from my friends Brenda and Dave in Banff.  It was Brenda's bike (Brenda's Toy, aka BT), and it was single speed, but now it's a regular hard tail mountain bike and it's mine.  (Jamis Exile).  I had my first mountain bike ride since around 1993 on Sunday when I met up with Dave in Fairmont Hot Springs, BC.  Much to my surprise, my Banff friends Keith and Leslie were also there, which was a huge treat.  We went on a mountain bike ride and it was so incredibly awesome.  I didn't have my camera sadly.  The above picture is from my ride in Herron Park tonight.  My friend Matt came up with a new Herron Hustle course and so I checked it out (I am afterall the race director so I should at least see what the course is :p) and it was awesome.  BUT... some observations about mountain biking (from an absolute newbie):

1)  It's really really hard.  Running is physically so much easier.  Going up hills is hard.  Maybe I just need to develop some new muscles or figure out how to work the gears?  I think it's just hard work. 

2)  Going downhill is really hard if you're not an adrenaline junkie - which I am not.  I hope I don't wear out my brakes too fast.  Good thing I bought a used bike relatively inexpensively.  I'd be scared if I had a fancy new bike (which I was originally thinking I should definitely purchase).

3)  You can't space out like you can running.  Mountain biking requires your full attention.  It's mentally challenging.  You have to look ahead and not look away.  Maybe with practice one can do more gazing off in the distance, but I certainly must pay attention.  That's hard for me.  I'm possibly ADDish.



Herron Park has so much new single track -- it is so very awesome

I did bike this slightly faster than I would be able to run it, but not much.  I already knew mountain biking isn't necessarily faster than running.  I'm sure really awesome mountain bikers are fast, but I probably never will be.  Finally, I can see that some trails might be better for mountain biking while some should still be for hiking or trail running.  Technical trails that are really steep would be so hard as to not be worth it to me.  I think.

Anyhow, I'm pretty excited about my new toy.  And I will soon go to the vet to get another x-ray of my toe to see if it's healed.  I tried running on the dreadmill this morning and it hurt so I stopped.  I think outside running might be better.  Dunno.

In conclusion, I should inform you that Ted just asked me: "HOW COULD I HAVE MARRIED YOU WHEN YOU HAVEN'T SEEN ATTACK OF THE 50 FOOT WOMAN?  HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT?"

Have you seen Attack of the 50 Foot Woman?