Miles and Marijuana on Lawrence's Newest Trails

With the opening of Lawrence's new massive recreation center only weeks away, the building and its environs are available for public use already as part of, what has been described as, a soft opening. Today, as part of my run, I popped over to the center and did a quick tour of the facilities. The weight room is fantastic and airy. There was one guy using the room when I walked through.

"This is impressive," I mentioned.

He concurred.

The indoor track and the aerobic machines - 5 treadmills, 5 ellipticals, and a bunch of stationary and recumbent bikes - looked fantastic. There was a guy walking the track, but otherwise the space was deserted.

But I hadn't come to the site to workout indoors. I had run the 2.01 miles (exactly) from my door to the new facility in order to run some of its 6 miles of outdoor paths.

I thought the paths, being that there are six miles of them, would be easy to find. That proved not to be the case. I did a quick run around the circumference of the edifice which is longer than two football fields. No luck.

I knew, however, that I could see the paths from a point on the SLT trail that I also run regularly. So I headed out the west exit of the sporting complex (which also includes KU's Rock Chalk Park), and headed north toward the Lecompton interchange on the SLT trail. After a few hundred yards, I saw the new path coming down a hill to my right (east). I waded through tall grass and made my way across a little stream (being very careful to look for snakes), and made my way to the new paths.

And what can I say?  They are still under a bit of construction, but the milled asphalt is and exceedingly comfortable surface on which to run. I (seriously) think I spotted pieces of the old KU stadium track ground up into portions of the new path system as well.  

The path network around the park and rec complex is amazing. The surfaces are wide, hilly, and winding, making for a fun and challenging run.

One odd occurrence: as I ran up a hill and rounded a corner in the first mile of the paths I was hit with a very strong whiff of marijuana. I thought, why in the world would someone be smoking marijuana out here? I don't have anything against the plant or its use (and I really don't want this post to become a forum on the subject one way or the other). But it just seemed so strange. So I stopped to see who was smoking.

The answer - no one. There, in the middle of the city's newest (and truly wonderful) running pathway networks, was a good-size stand of marijuana in full bloom. I don't know what is considered to be good or bad examples of the plants, but there were buds all over these. So much so that the odor was a bit overwhelming when standing downwind. I think everyone who has grown up in Kansas has seen this plant in the wild. I just hadn't ever seen so much of it in one place.

Normally I write about animals I see in nature. Every now and then I'll write about eating mulberries or apples found growing wild along a trail. This stand of marijuana was just so odd because of its size and its proximity to the trail (about 2 feet away) made me wonder why it was left in place.

I resumed my run and finished the section of the trails I had chosen. All in all I got in a good 7.3 miles of road and trail running. The paths are the newest, and some of the best, additions to Lawrence's running offerings. I'm guessing the city will do something about the marijuana in the near future - it is hard to miss as you run the trails. But then again, this is Lawrence...

Running and a Review

Clinton North Shore Trail Head

The past weekend held two great days for running. Temps were relatively low, but humidity was high. For me, that meant that warming into the runs (in my case, getting my breathing going) worked well. I always find it easier to breathe when it is cooler. I do like the humidity, however, because it creates the feel of a really good (read sweaty) workout.

A bunch of Lawrence Trail Hawks and I met at 7:30 AM on Saturday and ran the route for the upcoming Sanders Saunter race. An oddly long amount of time was spent by most of us applying sulfur powder over the already copious amounts of DEET and other bug sprays we'd used. I believe everyone in the group had been victimized by the dreaded oak mites during previous runs. Anything and everything that could be deployed to hold the microscopic buggers at bay was utilized.  

So our yellow-legged group took off into the trees. The run featured two climbs up and down Sanders Mound (at the beginning and end). In between was the run to Lake Henry - out on the white trail, and back on blue. The views of Clinton Lake from atop Sanders Mound elevated everyone's spirits. 

Gary Henry, the group's fearless leader, used the run as his first return to the trails since completing the Hawk 100 mile race the week before. 

Sunday I decided to go where I'd have the least chance of running into another person. My run took me to the western portion of the Kansas River levee. I ran for 9.65 miles and passed a total of seven people. The levee is about as flat a run as one could possible have. I had the river on one side and fields and train tracks on the other. As usual, I tried to run a reverse split. I accomplished the task, but not as dramatically as I had earlier in the week on the levee's eastern side.  

I had two wildlife moments. Around mile 1.5 outbound I passed as close to a great blue heron as I've ever been. And on the return (with literally 25 meters left to go) I came across a massive copperhead slithering in my direction on the levee under the Kansas River bridge. I was surprised by this because I've only seen black snakes and garters in the area. Clinton (not the levee) is usually ground-zero for copperheads. I let the beautiful snake pass, and finished my run with a heart-rate that might've been slightly elevated above what the pace would demand.

Smith Optics Evolve

Finally, a quick review. A few months ago I won a giveaway from Adventure Journal. The prize was a pair of Smith Optics sunglasses. The pair arrived a few weeks ago, and I have been wearing them regularly ever since. Though not a style I would've chosen - my other pairs of higher-end shades (Spy Kash and Tifosi) are more geared toward sports performance - the Smith Optics have quickly become my pick for everyday wear. 

In terms of fit, I have no complaints. The glasses are snug without any tight/pinch points of discomfort. While mainly worn in ordinary (non-athletic) endeavors, I have used them in a round of disc golf. They stayed on my face even during the fast torque that comes with long drives.

While fit is good, where the glasses really shine is in their polarization. Honestly, I have never worn a pair quite like these. The lenses are large, clear, and very polarized (if there can be levels of polarization). I have not felt any fatigue while using them. They are far and away my go-to glasses for driving in sunny situations.

I want to take a second and thank both Adventure Journal and Smith Optics for introducing me to the line. I am a bit surprised by how much I really do like these glasses.

First return run

I felt good enough today (after having recovered from the ultra marathon pacing) to take on a reverse split 9.2 mile run. Clouds overhead and cool temperatures on the levee made for a beautiful running experience.

I never got into the zone that I like to go to when I run the levee. But today it didn't matter.

Now I must reluctantly return return to work. Get out and enjoy the day wherever you are. Life is short, and beautiful days should not be wasted. 

Notes from an Ultra Marathon Pacer

We've all seen countless pictures of trail races where sweaty, dirt-encrusted men and women emerge from a tree-line to sprint (or more usually, trudge quickly) to the finish line. I write this because, as much as I enjoyed participating in the Hawk 100 event over the weekend, I did not take any pictures. So you'll have to use your imaginations (unless you've been on the Clinton North Shore trails where the race is held), and simply picture everyone as sweaty, dirty, and tired.

After helping lay out the course's Bunker Hill and Goodwin Loop sections (the only adjoining open, grassy, hilly expanses in the run), on Friday, I returned to the race at 1 a.m. on Sunday to pace a buddy who was running the full 100 miles (there were 50 and 26.2 mile races occurring simultaneously as well). I had agreed to meet him for the fourth 25 mile loop of his run and make sure he finished with a good time.

My friend, Paul, is pretty good at undertaking major challenges, having sailed the Pacific (and Atlantic) solo on many occasions in a 26' boat, and having hiked alone across the Himalayas. He has also run many 50 mile and 100 kilometer ultras. So I wasn't too worried about his ability to finish the Hawk 100. We are both members of the club that was putting on the event. He had also been training on the course for over a month - knocking out 30 mile runs on a regular basis.

So I showed up at the start/finish line to await his arrival as he completed his third 25 mile lap. Around 3:30 am, he came in. He looked better than most (and slightly worse than some) of the other runners who still had a lap to go. After an unusually long break of 15 minutes (he changed shoes and socks, and ate a veggie burger and a cup of bean soup), we took off into the darkness.

He and I had both completed a marathon on the same course last year, and we both have run the trails many times. So it wasn't an unknown entity. Still, running trails at night is an interesting experience - as the world around you shrinks down to only that which is visible in the beam of your headlamp. I had brought a Petzl headlamp. I also had grabbed the ridiculously bright, rechargeable Light And Motion headlight from my mountain bike. I clamped the lightweight dynamo around my index finger and used it whenever I really needed to see what was coming up.

The hours of running in darkness were spent in easy conversation. Paul was lucid even though he'd been up and running for just over 20 hours. We chugged into the aid station at Land's End (4-5-ish miles in), filled our bottles and hydration packs, and had more soup - a potato chili made by ultra-runner, Gary Henry.  We then set off for a 6.5 mile segment that traced the edge of the lake and then took us to a switchback-filled hilly section of the course called Cactus Ridge (yes - there are nopale cactus on the ridge). The sky lightened before we arrived at the West End aid station, situated near the far end of the course. Paul was a bit tired - as one could imagine he would be.

Food now became the only fuel he had. All other stores seemed to be gone. I had him take grapes, crackers, and gel packs from the station so that he could eat whenever his energy flagged. We hit Bunker Hill and the Goodwin Loop and cruised through the two sections at one of the faster paces of the day, Paul led, and seemed to get his mojo back, with the food intake and the light of day lifting his spirits. Since I hadn't been racing for 24 + hours at that point, I was able to really enjoy the vistas of the lake and countryside that Bunker Hill provided. The air was cool and the sun shone bright in a cloudless sky. Bunker Hill and Goodwin were my favorite portions of the run. I felt lucky to be outside running in such a beautiful place.

After passing the aid station that serves as the entrance and exit to Bunker Hill again, we got down to the business of finding a way to finish the final 12 miles of the Hawk 100 mile race. The plan was to run/jog/walk 2-3 miles until Paul's food energy depleted, and then stop for 2-3 minutes while he ate and recharged for the next round. I let him lead when he was moving at a good pace. When he wasn't, I led and talked him on - pointing out easy places on the rocky, hilly trail to pick up speed.

When we arrived back at the Land's End aid station (which is situated at a junction of the 2 trails we were running - one longer and one shorter), it signified that there were only 6.5 miles left to go. We took a little longer than we had at West End (around 7 minutes), and then set off for the final push.

It wasn't exactly a slog. We ran a bit (actually we had one of the fastest miles of the day between mile 95-96), and I talked to Paul about how close we were getting. I offered calculations that would put us in way under the time limit. I kept all talk positive and upbeat - as I had for the whole run. It was a pretty good, but short-lived, portion of the run.

After taking a break with just under 4 miles to go, Paul announced that the food he was ingesting had stopped giving him any noticeable energy. He felt entirely depleted. I told him to take a GU gel shot (we'd been using Hammer Nutrition's banana-flavor, but had run out), which he did. After about five more minutes he still had no energy. I was leading - walking/jogging as quickly as I could to keep him going.

I could tell he wanted to stop for a break, but told him that if food wasn't going to work, stopping to rest would end up being a negative as his muscles and joints would stiffen (which they had been doing each time we stopped). This made starting up more difficult each time as he needed to walk a hundred yards or so before his legs gained enough range-of motion to run. I knew I had to now turn to the Well of Cliche. I told him that the mental and physical place he was in was where 100 mile-finishers are made. If it was easy, everyone would do it. When food no longer works, guts are all you have left to run on.

I said all this with conviction. While I have no idea how someone runs 100 miles (I have not done it myself), I do know that I have finished my (much shorter) ultra runs with nothing left in the tank but sheer will and determination to reach the end. And you know what? Paul seemed to agree with my assessment. I led. He followed - going to some depth in his mind and body that I did not want to contemplate.

As we approached the end of the trail, I stopped and told him that I wanted him to take the lead and run across the final field to the finish. And he did. Watching from the sideline as I peeled off, I actually had tears in my eyes. We had just run slightly less than a marathon together on a difficult course. I had done my job as pacer, and he had gotten his 100 miles.

Afterwards, as we sat eating veggie burgers, Paul paid me a couple of ultimate compliments for a pacer. He said that he couldn't have done it without me - certainly not in the time that we completed the last circuit. And lastly, he said that he thought the Hawk 100 was less 'his race' than it was 'our race'. Not at all true. But I really have to say that I appreciate the sentiment.

Ethno-botany - It's more interesting than it sounds

In the past month I have become very interested in ethno-botany and related anthropological fields. I have been reading about little else (except, of course, for running). The study of plants and their medicinal/curative uses in the Amazon as well as shamanic practices that accompany them (the uses) make for an interesting read. Perhaps as interesting as the uses of the plants are the lengths to which the researchers must go in order to bring the indigenous people's knowledge back to the western world. Logistical travel issues, multiple languages needed, permissions from chiefs, shamans, and governments to take samples, and even cataloging different names and uses for the same plant (in some instances) from tribe to tribe, all account for how difficult it is to access meaningful information about the plants in the region.

The first book I read was Mark Plotkin's, Tales of a Shaman's Apprentice. I believe that I have already written about the book in this blog as well as on Goodreads.com, so I won't go into much detail other than to say that Tales is where one should begin, if there is an interest in learning more about the field of study.

William S. Burroughs' and Allen Ginsberg's, The Yage Letters, makes for an oddly appropriate read after Plotkin - in part because Burroughs mentions that he ran into Dr. Schultes (who is described by Plotkin, as a legend in the field in Tales) somewhere in South America in the 1950's. It is, perhaps, most fun to read as an account of what it was like to travel in the region in the mid part of the last century.

The next book I got (through inter-library loan - thank you KU), was Jeremy Narby's, The Cosmic Serpent: DNA and the Origins of Knowledge. Again, the book is tremendously interesting. Instead of coming at the field from the plant angle, Narby looks at the shamanic side of the healing and plant-knowledge equation. He makes the argument that knowledge of the plants, their healing powers, and even the world around us cannot be understood when only looked at through our rational viewpoint. Narby writes that knowledge is gained equally (certainly by the indigenous people he studied) through use of hallucinogenics like ayahuasca, or even ritual drumming. He believes that what is seen and experienced in these states is equally valid to the acquisition of knowledge as what we see before us in the 'real world.' (quotes are mine). I don't know that I fully agree with all of the conclusions he draws, but the case he makes is compelling. It is also illuminating in many other ways - in terms of real science and how our bodies, cells, and DNA function. I would highly recommend this book as well as the others listed above.

I am now onto another book by Narby, and will write about it, I'm sure, in the future.
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Quick note re running: Wow, just wow. The weather has started to break a bit. There were some hot runs this week, but most were pleasant. I was able to knock out a long run day and then some good and hilly 5-6-ish mile runs. I'm preparing to be a pacer for the final 25 miles of the Hawk 100 trail race. A friend entered and I thought, why not?  I'm not too worried about being able to keep up after he's already plugged through 75 miles. I think my job will mainly be encouragement and guidance on the trails through the late night/early morning hours.  I'm really looking forward to it. I ran the marathon on the same course last year and had a great time.