A Few Thoughts on Running

So I took off this morning for my early morning run – dressed like an Eskimo, because while the calendar says it’s April, the air still says it is 30 degrees. This has been long winter – many, many long lonely runs in 5 degree weather, with frozen water bottles and ice hard food to chew on. To chase away boredom on those 7-8 hour runs, I’ve begun listening to audio-books, which I absolutely love. So this morning, in addition to my multiple layers of clothes, I popped in my earphones and headed out. Shortly after I took off, I heard the faintest sound of a bird call. I was embarrassed when I realized that I had earphones stuck in my ears to fight off the pending boredom (?) but I was only out for a 5 mile run. Duh, as my kids would say. After reality sunk in, I turned off my book, put away the earphones and became the sole audience to a concert of bird calls, including an overwhelming sound of turkey cackles off in the distance. One of my favorite smells in nature is the (diluted) smell of a skunk. This morning, though, there may have been some skunk hanky-panky going on because the smells were impressive. I counted at least 100 deer fleeing in all directions as they saw me coming, and one unfortunate deer missed a fence wire and tumbled ass-over-tea-kettle. It’s odd – earlier on my run I pondered how the deer knew when to jump in the dark to miss the hundreds of wire fences in our area. I guess they don’t all miss!

I’ve decided to hang up my ultra running shoes. I learned a lot about myself this year. First, the ultra game was fun when my good friend Brian was here. Brian, being 36 years old, single and completely unattached and free to do whatever in the world he wants, moved to Oregon. Go Brian!!! Every now and again I see pictures he sends along of the amazing adventures and sights he experiences every day in the north-west wilderness. But back here in old mid-Michigan, running the ultra distance without another person to share this passion with is difficult. Danny supports me unconditionally. But even for him this ultra game is a big sacrifice. Danny has stood outside in the freezing cold temps to cheer me on at races that go on for FREAKING ever. In return, he gets ugly looks from me when he offers me a bowl of chili, a tired, achy complaining wife after the race and endless iterations of why this and that went wrong or (sometimes, but not very often) what went right. And, more than anything else, I get tired and bored out there. I don’t like being away from home all the time and spending many hours that I am at home, planning the next long run. Surely there is a better way to spend my time. Danny thinks so too. So when I called him in the middle of an 8 hour long run two weekends ago – crying – he said “come home”. And I did. And I don’t regret it. So a normal runner I am (again).