Category Archives: Running

Last Day of the Year

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We finally got some snow here in the valley. Not much, mind you, but enough to make things look bright. We took a trip to the hardware store and they filled the new inflatable sleds we got for Christmas. They worked like a charm. Fast and fun. Until one of them found a stick, got a slice, and flattened right out, with me on it. No more of that sled today.

At the beginning of the year I set a few birding goals. First was to find 50 species of birds in Vermont in January. Check. Second was to make a birding checklist every day of the year. As of today, check to that as well. Total checklists: 562. My third goal was to find 300 species of birds. As of today I have seen 406. A sub-goal was to find 300 birds in North America alone. When the year started I had not planned a trip out of the country, but with a trip to South Africa that yielded lots of species not found in North America, I easily made my goal. North American birds: 279. Pretty far off but not too shabby.

I have been thinking about goals for 2017. One goal is to run more. I have not run as much in the past several years. Out of shape, lazy, injuries, depression–I have all kinds of reasons. But I’m done with that. I am going to hit the roads again. Twice a week at least. I would like to say that I will run a half marathon in 2017 but I have made goals like that before and then gotten injured; so let’s say that is a tentative goal. I am willing to put in the effort–it just might not be an option.

Birding goal? I want to move away from the list a little. One goal is to go birding in half a dozen National Wildlife Refuges. They are always beautiful to visit and offer fantastic birding. I will have to hope no group of fruit loops decide to occupy one when I plan to visit, as happened this year in Oregon. I also would like to add some birds to my life list. How about ten? Can I add ten lifers? That isn’t too many but I will have to get out there to make it happen. So I have a list-based goal after all.

And I need to write more. How about I average one blog post per week? That seems doable. Plus I need to make some progress on that book. I will make that one a sub-goal–get an outline done. Then I can take it from there.

This was a good year in many ways. I watched my children grow and do some great things. I took some trips and saw new places. I watched the sun rise from the top of Mount Mansfield. My son and I visited South Africa to see a good friend, plus zebras and lions ostriches. I heard Hermit Thrushes and Golden-Winged Warblers and Baltimore Orioles and Go-Away Birds. I swam in clear water in summer and skied on fresh snow in winter. I baked dinner rolls and made cheesecake. Lots to celebrate.

2016 also offered up some crap. Some of that is the usual crap–work stress, stupid mistakes (did I really back into that car in the trail head parking lot?), stuff that gets tossed around in the course of your standard day. Other crap was a little bigger–Brexit and the U.S. presidential election come to mind. Hopefully we all will get though that garbage in the next few years and come out with some lessons learned. I have less hope for that than usual but I am not totally hopeless.

So here is to 2017. May it be filled with everyday joy and wonder and beauty and fun. And may the bigger crap be less biggery and crappy than it might be. But mostly let’s go for the first bit. Happy New Year y’all!

Rain Window

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A couple days ago I went out in the afternoon to look for birds. One of my goals this year has been to try to go birding every day. Sometimes I catch an owl or two in the early morning. Other days I go walk for a couple of hours. I hadn’t found many birds the other day as it was raining all day plus, you know, work. The rain had let up a bit, and it was going to get dark soon, so out I went.

As soon as I left the house, that rainless window started to close. A few drops fell, then more, and pretty soon it was full on raining. I went anyway. I didn’t go far–just down the road to the bridge over the river. I found some Blue Jays, Chickadees, a White-Throated Sparrow, a couple Juncos. It wasn’t a stellar birding expedition, but I got it in. By the time I got back home I was pretty soggy.

It rained yesterday most of the day. We need it. It has been a dry summer and early fall. We have been afraid our well might run dry. It never has before but we have never had such a dry stretch. These past few days should help. Looking out at Camel’s Hump and the Green Mountains south of there, I can see snow up high. I saw a few cars today with snow piled on their roofs–three inches or so. Full on autumn.

My daughter and I ran a 5K this morning. She has wanted to do them as often as possible this fall. She has run a 5K four weekends in a row. I have run the past three with her. It was forecast to be raining this morning, temperatures in the 40’s, super windy. We had the low temps and wind but no rain. It was a beautiful morning–snow up high, leaves still orange and red–if chilly. Apparently not everyone thought so. There were a grand total of seven runners. I feel like a fair weather runner sometimes but sheesh.

Those 5K’s are getting scarce now that the weather has turned. We can squeeze one in the next couple of weekends. We plan to do one on Thanksgiving day. But then it will be hard to find organized events, at least around here. We got lucky this morning and hit the window right to avoid the rain. Sometimes that happens. Gray skies, blue skies, it’s all beautiful with the other fall colors. Rain or sun, I will keep getting out there. My daughter wants to do those 5K’s and someone needs to do them with her. And I need to get in those birding days.

Only 71 more days and I will have done some birding every day in 2016. I need to think about goals for next year. I will have some kind of birding goal again. And 2017 will bring a running goal as well. Whatever I decide they need to get me out there, whether I hit the rain window or not.

Wind and Hawks

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Last night the wind picked up. My daughter and I started today with a 5K run in Shelburne. There were not that many runners but it was a perfect day for a run. The temperature was mid-fifties when we started, clouds puffed their way across the morning sky, and the wind kept at it. A wind jacket was just enough with a pair of shorts and short sleeves.

We were done early, home by 9:30. We got to see some fine views of the Green and Adirondack Mountains, as we often do here in the Champlain Valley. The trees still donned their colors, but the wind muted things a bit. The leaves are doing what they do this season–falling. So the hills are losing their luster, but still, it is hard to take in all the glory.

Just before we started the run, a Northern Harrier caught the wind. It soared and dipped and cornered and curved. Its white rump flashed in the high sunlight. It flew north. Then another Harrier appeared, chased by an American Crow. The crow dove to harass the hawk, missed, then rose up to try again. The Harrier seemed to shrug it off. If birds could roll their eyes, this one might have.

Later, at another spot on the lake, I watched a Red Tailed Hawk fly past, high overhead. The wind was strong enough that its wings were tucked tight. Twice I saw it spread its wings to turn a bit, then it pulled them in again and made a bee line south. It looked like it was diving while horizontal. It was a stiff wind. A moment later I watched a second Red Tail follow the same path. It was a good morning to make some distance.

Late today rain started to fall. I had just washed out the birdfeeders. I pulled them apart and scrubbed them with soap in a bucket. It want them clean so I can start putting them out again. Wind tossed the branches around while I dunked my arms into soapy water. I left the parts out to dry. The wind should help make that happen quickly. The rain will hinder that. Good thing I put everything under cover of the porch.

Soon the leaves will be off the trees. Winter will feel close. Already we have had frost. The other day I pulled in the basil and made a batch of pesto to freeze. I started a fire outside late yesterday and we spent a few hours in the autumn colors with the warmth of a fire. It got dark early. Again the seasons turn. Around here, they make a show of it.

Day 50: Might Need to Call It

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For about a week now I have had pain in my Achilles tendon when I run. The past couple of days I have begun to feel it even when I don’t run. This is my unfortunate pattern for years now. I rest a lot, then slowly get back into running; I build up the miles slowly, don’t run fast and don’t go far. Then I end up getting injured and have to rest a lot. Repeat. It has gotten a little old. After running all kinds of fun distances and events, it appears I don’t have what I used to have. I guess I shouldn’t have taken all those years off when we had kids.

Today, however, I did get in a run, which means 50 days of running in a row. I was going for 100 but I will have to see how I feel tomorrow to decide if I try to keep it up. On the one hand, this is a good streak, and taking it easy enough might mean things heal up and I continue the streak. On the other hand, this hurts. I only ran two miles today, and yesterday, and I had to walk a bunch, so is it worth it? Can I call that a run? So this accomplishment: 50 consecutive days of running. That ain’t too shabby.

I do love to run. Once I get out there and start feeling good, once I get some miles behind me, once I get into a rhythm and the endorphins start flowing, well, it just feels great. I have never been a competitor against anyone but myself, and I have always felt better trying to do more than trying to go faster. And that feels good as well. It isn’t a race. It is about going the distance. It is a metaphor, really, for how I want my life to be. It is OK to walk sometimes, even to stop altogether and to revel in where I am at that moment. I feel better about seeing the owl swoop from the maple than about having a run time one or two minutes faster. As Ben Cohen said, if it isn’t fun, why do it?

So I feel good about getting in 50 days. I may have to call it good with that. If so, I may try for 100 another time. I smelled the wild leeks in the damp woods today. The smell of onions floated through the mist. That made the journey worth it. I slowed to watch the river rush under the bridge. Two geese called, flying low through the fine rain. The world is a beautiful place. Sometimes getting half way is enough.

Day 44: Frost and Kinglet

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This morning we had frost. When I left the house at 5:15 AM the temperature was 29 degrees. I wore a fleece layer, gloves, and a hat. That is not all I wore, of course, but I have not worn those items in many days. It was chilly.  When the air is cold and clear, that early in the day, before the sun is really roused, I appreciate again the beauty of the place I live. The horizon was pink and the thinnest crescent moon rose over Camel’s Hump. Two geese honked over head as I walked down the driveway. My misted breath danced out over the greening field.

I had that same soreness again this morning. My Achilles tendon has been letting me know it wants some attention lately. I have not totally ignored it, but I haven’t paid attention to its whining either. Today I kept the run to three miles and I walked some at the end to be safe. It is a bit of a nuisance. But it was a fine morning to be out, so I was content. After all, I will run again tomorrow.

There were lots of birds to be heard out there on that short run–red-winged blackbirds and robins and geese and ducks and song sparrows. Yesterday I was running on a narrow class IV section of road, where the trees are tight on each side. I thought I heard a ruby crowned kinglet singing. I stopped. Sure enough, in a tree right near me a little bird hopped from branch to branch and belted out its complicated flurry of notes. That little bird can sing like a champ, and I don’t hear them around here all that often. It was a treat. Then, as I passed over the river, I watched a great blue heron try to catch breakfast by the shore. It has been a good couple days for birds.

Today the high temperature is forecast to be 73 degrees. That is much warmer than 29. I am guessing we will get one more day of frost and that’s it. Today might have been our last one, but I like to plan on frost in early May. So I might get a crisp morning run in one more time. Either way, I’ll be out there. Tomorrow I get to sleep in. I’ll give the old ankle more than 24 hours rest. And then I’ll  put in a few more miles.

Day 42: Sore?

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I rose early today to get my run in.  The morning was stunning. Wispy clouds floated in front of the eastern pink sky. Camel’s Hump was silhouetted, surrounded by red and orange. Robins sang. A cool wind caressed the new grass. I wore shorts. I stood for a minute before heading out, soaking in the beauty. I live in a fine place.

My ankle was sore today. It was sore yesterday as well but I reckoned it would figure out that an injury was unwelcome if I ignored it long enough. That didn’t work, apparently. Like the house guest that won’t take the hint and keeps sticking around, the soreness persisted. I had to run short again. And slowly. But I got some miles in and marked off day 42 of consecutive days running.

It wasn’t a pain, really. It didn’t ache. It felt like an overuse situation, which  is somewhat understandable. Nonetheless, I wish it would disappear. I am hoping it will. In fact, I am confident it will. I have come too far to break the streak now. If I can run 42 days in a row, I can do more. I do tend to be overambitious. Heck, I am already thinking I should go for 1,000 days in a row. But that is ridiculous at this point. Let’s get to 50 days first, then 100. After that, we an talk. This soreness is, as I said, not welcome. It keeps me from dreaming big. It checks me. In some ways that is good, but I like to dream big. Who wants things boring?

Tomorrow I will have to rise early again to fit in a run. If I wait until the afternoon it just won’t happen. If I have to run short, or walk a little to ease the ankle nagging me, I will do that. I am hoping, however, that the healing process will take care of my lower limb and I will be back on the road soreness-free. I hope as well that the morning is a stellar as this one. That will make it worth it no matter what.

Day 40: Rote and Rototiller

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I spent a good chunk of my day trying to turn the soil in the garden. I decided that this year I would get a rototiller and turn it with fossil fuel, rather than with muscle. For the past several years, since we moved to this house, I have turned it with a fork, pulled the weeds and raked it smooth. This year I wanted to save some time. I called the hardware store and reserved the tiller and picked it up at 10:00. Once I unloaded it I spent a while going back and forth. I don’t have a rectangle, which might have made things easier, but a series of long beds, arranged in a circular pattern. Back and forth, back and forth. Some of the beds were easy, some took a long time.

The blades were dull, so in the spots where the soil was firm (meaning mostly clay) the tines just spun on the surface. They hardly dug in and I had to work the machine to get it to do the work. I had thought it would be a piece of cake–chop things up, turn it under and, voila, readied garden beds. But it didn’t turn out that way. I had to muscle the thing around to get it to do what I wanted, and on the worst beds I just gave up–it just wouldn’t dig enough to make the arm soreness worth it. And my arms got pretty dang sore.

I did get a lot done, and faster than I would have using a fork, but I will end up having to turn some of it with a fork anyway. I got most of the way toward readying the beds, but not all the way. I guess it was worth the 36 bucks. In any case, I ran in the afternoon and I thought about all this as I did.

On this day 40 of consecutive days running I felt tired after the mechanical wrestling, I didn’t really feel like running, but I went anyway. The afternoon was warm but there was a cool breeze, so I felt good. I was plenty tuckered, but I my feet seemed to know what to do. I ran as if by rote, the steps falling one after another without my really thinking about it. I ran a mile, and then another, and then I was on my way back and suddenly I was home. I was feeling so weary I was ready to find a quiet spot and rest along the way. At least, I felt that way before I left. Once I was out there the run just happened.

I will need to get some more dirt to load onto the beds–compost to feed the seeds. I was too late to order today so that will have to wait until tomorrow. I will be able to run a little later in the morning tomorrow as I don’t have to head to work quite so early, so I will get a short rest in there–no rising at 5:00 in the morning, at least this time. I am glad my rototilling job is done, or sort of done. And I am glad my run went well after feeling so wiped. The tines wouldn’t turn as I wanted them to, but my feet did, and I can call that a good day.

Day 37: Fifty in Sight

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I didn’t start off thinking I would run all these days in a row. I just got started and once I did, I thought I could do more, and then I set a goal and I was on my way. Setting a goal is pretty key for me. In the past I have trained for and run marathons. Those years when I did not have that goal, I ran less. Once I set the goal, once I have something to work toward, I am more likely to make it happen. I plan to run a marathon and then I make the training happen. That is the way it has been with this goal. If I did not have the goal to go for a run every day, I simply would not do it. Last week I went to a conference and I had a long drive to start fairly early in the morning. I rose at 4:30 to run because I knew I would find it hard to run if I did not rise that early. Without the goal, I would not have done that.

This morning I was sound asleep when the alarm went off. In my dream I was hearing a tune over and over. I wanted it to stop. I didn’t know where it was coming from. But that persistent tune finally shoved me out of the dream world and into the concrete one. The tune I was hearing was my alarm. Often I wake before the alarm, but not today. I was sleepy. The bed was warm. I had to leave for work early. But I got up anyway and tied my shoes and strapped on my headlamp and hit the road. I saw no one else, only some birds. I was hoping to hear a meadowlark, as I did on a recent morning, but only robins and song sparrows sang from the roadside.

As long as I don’t get injured I will hit fifty days. Today was just a regular old run. I only ran three miles, since I had little time, in the dark, but it was enough. I will fit in longer runs on other days. Each day, however, is one more day toward a pile of days. I am confident now that I can get in 50 days of consecutive running. I’ll call that my short term goal. Then I’ll head downhill toward 100. I mentioned my goal to a colleague today and he said “Once you hit 100 days, why stop there?”

Why stop indeed?

Day 35: Spring Popping Out

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Thirty five days of consecutive running. That’s not too shabby. As I ran early this morning, I thought about spring. It was lighter than usual today, 5:30 AM. I ran without a light. A week ago the time was the same and the cloud cover was the same, but it was dark. The days grow longer. No cars passed me this morning so I never had to flip on the headlamp. I love that. It is a small pleasure that perhaps many cannot appreciate–to run in the mostly-dark without a light. That I didn’t have to turn it on even temporarily for passing drivers was a bonus.

I need to ready the garden. I should have planted peas and spinach by now, but I haven’t done any tilling. I was hoping to rent or borrow a rototiller to get the job done this year, but getting around to that has simply not happened. Laziness? Apathy? Busy-ness? Whatever, it hasn’t happened. I walk right past the garden every time I head out for a run, so this time of year it is hard to ignore the wild tussle of weeds that are springing up. And it is hard not to think, while I plod along, how much I need to get cracking on planting. I have planted onions in trays inside, and the garlic I planted in the fall is sprouting, so at least I’ve got that.

Birds are singing up a storm early morning. Robins and sing sparrows and titmice and juncos–all whistling and chirping and raising a cacophony. They are trying to land a girlfriend, I tell my children. Woodcocks and snipes do their weird dance and sing act as well. I almost never actually see them, hiding in the dusk, but I can hear them just fine. They try to tell me spring is here, not just coming soon. I can’t help but listen. In the near dark, when I am alone, and windows just begin to shine in distant houses, the birds have their say and I listen.

Trees are leafing out. Daffodils are blooming. The air doesn’t get down to freezing. I feel too warm with a fleece vest under my windbreaker, even with temperatures in the 30s. Spring is so here. All of a sudden it will be warm and summer with blast on in. The mornings are just about perfect for running right now, however. I need to enjoy them while I can. By day 100, if I can get that far, it might just be hot.

Day 32: Sluggish

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I have a friend who has run lots of distance races. And he is serious about it. He sometimes wins and stuff. He trained for the Olympics. He has put in some work and some time. I asked him one time how he stays motivated. He said that he sometimes just gets out there, even if he doesn’t feel like it. Rain? Cold? Not enough sleep? Tough. Get out there and run anyway. It was over a decade ago he said this to me, but his words were sticky enough that I think about it on days like today. I was just plain old sluggish.

Someone asked me recently, “Are you a runner?” I used to think of myself as a runner, but my running has been so sporadic and so without accomplishment the past few years that I don’t think of myself the same way. I said something wishy washy like “I guess so,” and the conversation moved on. I guess I can say again that I am a runner, but I still feel like I should do more as a runner to call myself that. I should run far, or fast, or at least enter some events now and again. All I’m doing these days is poking down the road. Every day I’m shuffling.

I guess my accomplishment is 32 days of running in a row. That is something anyway, although it feels like a sideways way to accomplish something. It feels easier this way. I mean, I just go for a run, today and every day. I don’t worry about training plans or regimens or rules about when to run. I just go every day. I don’t go all that far, mind you, but the miles add up. Today I managed 5.6 miles. Not five and a half miles, since my house to the pond is 5.6. I’ll take the extra tenth. Like I said, it adds up.

I got plenty of sleep last night and even ate breakfast before I left, which I typically do not do. Still, I felt like a slug. I was dragging my feet. I was oozing down the road. I was pokey. It felt a little silly. I had to keep pushing myself forward and telling myself how ridiculous it was that I was going so slowly. I called myself some bad names. But I put in the miles and called it day 32. I thought of this friend of mine all those years ago and how he just got out there, whether he felt like it or not. The rest of what he said was this: “No matter what, I always feel better once I get out there; it is always worth it.”

On this point, he was right on the mark.