Ummm - Namaste

Since my last post I've written several times, but have not chosen to publish. Sometimes I feel that I have a really good idea, but when I see it on paper (or, in this case, screen), the point I'm trying to make is unclear. Posts covering race reports, training, and travel are much easier - here's what I did in sequential order over this specific period of time. And, since this blog is mainly a personal account about my running experiences, it kinda needs to have race reports, training comments, and news about travel. In a way it is my personal scrapbook or logbook of things I do.

But every now and then, I have deep thoughts. And those I rarely write about. Or, if I do, I'll only put down my musings in moleskin notebooks that I have used as a repository for writings of a more personal nature for years. So lately there has been a bit of spacing between posts on this blog because I don't want to turn Running Conversations into something other than a blog about running and running-related endeavors.

The other day, the app, Insight Timer, told me I had hit 150 straight days where I had spent time meditating. That seemed like a pretty good number. To me, it meant that devoting even a short time each day to sitting and concentrating on breathing, or (infrequently) following a guided meditation, actually has become a habit. And that is something I desired to happen when I first began to sit. When I started meditating about 8 months ago, it was important to me to try to turn off my phone, my computer, radios, TVs, and attempt to clear my mind of thoughts blowing through it at the staggering rate that they seem to do with all the stimuli that surrounds me on a day-to-day basis.

Of course, for years I had used running to do just that. But running was/is different. Running can be the best solitary thing a person can do (in my opinion). But it can also be a vehicle to interact with friends as well as a time to listen to music or podcasts. And running has more than its share of distracting electronic devices outside of phones and iPods. The smart watch may be the single most insidious distraction to runners trying to 'get away from it all'. It used to be step counts. That turned into GPS. Now add heart rate monitoring and touch screen. I know plenty of runners who don't run without these devices anymore. And honestly, there isn't a single thing wrong with that. I run with them on plenty of occasions. But they have nothing to do with my real reasons for running.

On solo runs without electronic devices, I find that I am much more in tune with my body and mind. I see more nature. I find much more at which to marvel. I know the adage made famous by Alexander Supertramp (AKA: Chris McCandless - someone who I admire greatly), that life is best when shared. Yet like AS/CM (in practice if not in desire) we really do learn a lot about ourselves when we face challenges and spend time in nature by ourselves.

During trail runs over the past couple of weeks, I have experienced two moments of clarity. Both were maddeningly fleeting, but very intense. I will never use a term like 'enlightenment' to describe what I experienced, but the moments were sudden and intense. I recognized them for what they were and continued on my way - feeling much better about the world I inhabit. And here, I feel I must invoke W.E.B DuBois, and mention that anyone's 'spiritual' (and I hesitate to use that word) experience, should only be considered relevant to that person, and not humanity as a whole. So don't think that meditation and running will lead to moments of clarity or enlightenment. I promise that the combo will not. But for me, there were two moments that caused an interlude in both my run and thought processes, where for a moment, I understood what I was seeing. I didn't understand the meaning of life or the workings of the universe. But I did, somehow, truly understand the small part of nature I was experiencing. And both times, a sense of well-being and knowing invaded my consciousness.

So, enough of the woo woo. That is a small glimpse of what I normally don't share. If I get enough comments or emails, I'll write a bit more about my meditation and my concurrent bastardization of two different types of Buddhism. I would love for more of my friends and readers to experience the exquisite mundaneness of meditation. Let me know if you have read this far and want to know more.

So for now... umm... namaste... I guess.

Rockin' K Race Report

View from atop one of the hills at Rockin' K

I ran the Rockin' K Trail Marathon over the weekend. I had always heard it was a tough race. And truth be told, it was tougher than I had imagined. First off, it isn't a marathon... it is actually slightly longer - closer to 28 mi than 26. Second, there are super steep hills (almost cliffs in the sense that one has to climb them rather than run up them) that require full attention and full effort to both climb and descend. Then there is freezing, murky/algae-laden, waist-deep water that must be crossed at three points during the run. And like any good water crossings, they are all preceded or followed by copious amounts of sand. So that by the time runners finish the distance, they are covered in dirt, slightly damp, completely wiped out, and... fully exhilarated by the totality of the experience. 

Another vista

I have never run a race (ultra or otherwise) that was as tough as the Rockin K. I also cannot recall running a race that gave back to the runners more than they put in in terms of self-satisfaction and tremendous scenery. The course has everything: wide open spaces, canyons, cliffs, rivers, bluffs, and hills - yes, lots and lots of long, steep hills. But again, every hill and valley rewarded runners with views that one wouldn't think one would encounter in Kansas. 

  

Running (trudging) up a bluff

The terrain underfoot was also varied, interesting, and challenging. We took off on asphalt, switched to miles of single track dirt, then came rock/limestone surface (very cool to run on), and then sand, mud, and water. The ground required a lot of vigilance. A couple of times I simply stopped to enjoy a vista - I had already seen a couple of tumbles from people who thought that they could look at the spectacular views while running. 

 I'm going to lose a couple of toenails from the run - due to toes being smashed against the front of my Salomons on the downslopes. But that is a small price to pay for a great experience.

And the weather! I think you can tell from the pictures just how perfect it was. The race began with temps in the low 30s F, and concluded in the 50s. It's Kansas, so there was a pant load of wind. But even that worked to make the race more interesting and challenging. There is nothing like standing atop a bluff and feeling wind whipping by to give one a sense of accomplishment.

The race was put on by the Kansas UltraRunners Society. The trails for the event don't really exist as a complete entity any other day of the year. The work that goes into planning and course marking must be astronomical.

Ultra-Man - Mike Miley at one of 3 water crossings

Another great thing about this type of race, as usual, is how supportive and friendly the ultra community can be. There were a lot of Lawrence Trail Hawks present. It was nice to run a race where I actually knew a good number of people - though I mainly ended up running alone, or with new friends I met along the way.

Lots of hills, water, rock and sand 

I'm getting a massage today (on the first Monday after the race). It should help me recover physically from the ravages of the Rockin K. Mentally, however, I'm toast. I think the race left me just crazy enough to want to do it all again next year.