Group Running

I, like most runners I know, generally run on my own. There was a time a few years ago when I regularly ran with a training club, and over the years there have been a few people I would regularly go out for runs with. But for the most part, my day-to-day runs are done alone. Normally, I enjoy company on my runs, but my experience today reminded me just why I normally run solo.

I got into work a bit later than usual this morning, since my girlfriend was heading to San Francisco for a grad school interview and I wanted just a little extra time with her. The second I got to my workspace, my coworker poked his head over the divider and asked if I would like to go for a run at lunch.

Naturally, I said yes.

As I said, I often relish company on a run, but there are times when I do not enjoy it as much.

We stepped out of the door into a beautiful, crisp, sunny spring day and my first warning. The two guys (and the fact that they're guys is important) started talking about where we should run today, and we settled on the Sanitas Valley Trail. I was not planning on doing any sort of elevation that day, and the run itself would be longer than I had planned for the day, but I decided to hang with them any way.

Both set out at a surprising clip on the Creek path. Not to sound cocky, but I rarely feel at all slow in comparison to other runners. When out on the trails, I am almost never passed by anybody else, and I run in Boulder. So when I say they took off at a good clip, they were booking it. I was still feeling the week before, which was my longest in over a year, and the pace felt uncomfortably fast. And for my second mistake, I opted to stay with them.

When we cut off up through Red Rocks on our way to Sanitas, I quickly fell behind the lead runner, though I stayed ahead of the third guy. Over the ridge and down to the start of the Valley Trail, we ran together, but as soon as we headed up Dakota ridge, my two coworkers pushed the pace.

My legs just weren't having it, and I was getting annoyed with the pace pushing. As I mentioned in my last post, last week was my longest in a very long time (ended up being 27 miles, still not impressive, but much better than I've been doing), and my legs were definitely feeling it yesterday and today. So, in my first good move of the day, I let them take off, and proceeded up the trail at my own pace.

As it turns out, my running partners faded a bit towards the top, and while I did not end up catching up, I closed the gap a bit at the top. And I did it without pushing my own pace.

On the downhill back to work, I easily caught up with them at an easy pace.

I should have realized this might be an issue when I agreed to the run. First, the guys I ran with today are sporadic runners, but they are in very good shape nonetheless. So while they are not as steady runners as I am, they can hit a good tempo, and their legs are generally fresher than mine will be unless I am tapering. Second, they are guys. I have generally found myself happier running with girls (for some reason I can never call people my own age men or women, it's always guys or girls). Guys have a tendency to make things into a competition. Girls, as a general rule, seem to more easily relax and hit an easy pace when necessary. That is why, in the past several years, I have run far more with girls. The only guy I have run with is a trail running friend of mine who is, like me, comfortable taking it easy.

Will I run with these guys again? Probably. Will I take the lessons I learned today with me? Hopefully, although I cannot make any promises on that count.

Back to the Trails

This morning, despite the drama of the night before (I'll get to it later), I decided to head up to the South Mesa Trailhead for a good, longish trail run. My original plan was to head up Shadow Canyon and hit South Boulder Peak and, if I was feeling alright, Bear Peak afterwards.

After a good 15 minutes of very slow running up the first long, slow haul on South Mesa Trail, I got to the cutoff to Shadow Canyon to find that the whole area was closed on account of breeding raptors. Discouraged and a bit annoyed by this at first, it may have ended up being a blessing in disguise: even without the climb up South Boulder, I probably put more climbing in today than I have in the past month of running around Westminster and on the Creek path.

I ended up going much farther than I anticipated, hitting one of my normal turnaround points when coming from the other direction and heading back for a good eight mile loop. That puts me a bit over 22 for the week. With a decent run tomorrow, I should easily hit my 26 mile goal, assuming I don't suffer any ill effects from the run today.

Suffice to say it was wonderful to get back on some honest trails today. For those who haven't been there, the south Mesa trail starts on a long, gradual uphill smooth enough to drive a Honda Civic up if you wanted to and it weren't several forms of illegal. Around two miles (maybe?) in, the trail evolves into double track, and then some rather gnarly track-and-a-half. If I had taken my camera along today, I'd show a picture to demonstrate. I soon found myself wishing for actual trail running shoes, as my Brooks Green Silence racing flats just don't cut it on the Boulder trails.

All told, and as usual, my legs felt far better on the trails than they do on the roads, or what passes for trails, around here. This is despite the undoubtably more difficult nature of the running. I think it has more to do with the varied nature of the terrain, which involves a larger array of muscles than you use on the road (stabilizers especially). All in all, it was a great way to top out what was already an excellent week of running. My mileage is increasing steadily, but not too quickly, and I have hopes of getting some excellent runs in this summer.

What surprised me on my run today, tying in with my last post, was the number of people running on the trails with headphones. I find this unfathomable: why would you disconnect yourself from your run that way? You're running on some of the most beautiful trails around, and listening to them is at least as important as seeing and feeling them. I even saw two people obviously running together, each with their headphones in.

I cannot understand that, and it will never be me.

As for the aforementioned drama, we brought home a new cat last night. So far, the introduction to our, admittedly bad, cat has gone reasonably well. Far better than I expected, actually, as our cat has not yet physically attacked the new adoption. However, the combination of cats did not make for the best night's sleep, and had me a bit worried about how the run would go today.

And the introduction continues. It seems to have actually taken a downhill turn this morning. Last night Jacques, our aforementioned bad cat, has hissed and growled at Gabby (assuming that's the name we switch to, rather than Butters). This morning, he proceeded to hiss at me as well.

This is not ok, clearly, and we shall have to find a way to stop it.

The Headphone Question

When people meet me in a running context, or learn about my running in an outside contest, the question that almost inevitably comes up (besides the "Why do you run?" question) is: "Do you wear headphones/listen to music when you run?" Following that up is the also inevitable "Why not?" or "How do you not go crazy without music?"

There are two primary reasons I don't listen to external sources of music while I run. Note the careful phrasing there, since it is critical to the second reason.

The first reason is put in perspective by an occurrence on my run today. I was, as is my routine, running along the creek on my lunch break. I had spotted a girl running in front of me several minutes prior, and had been steadily catching up. When I did, we were on a relatively narrow (track and a half?) stretch of trail.

Just before I went to pass her, she moved aside for two people running in the other direction. I dutifully said "coming by on your left!" and to my surprise, she failed to move and continued running down the center of the path. This seemed to me very odd, and forced me to run up off of the trail, something I try to avoid doing, and pass her on the right, also something I try to avoid doing.

As I passed, I noted that she had headphones in, and was therefore blissfully unaware, and (most likely unintentionally) discourteous to me.

That is the first reason I do not wear headphones while I run, or do anything else other than sitting on the bus or at work. Headphones removes you from your situation. It isolates you in a way that most people are generally unaware of. When I run, I often am forced to run in cities, and therefore have to deal with traffic. Being able to hear the traffic is critical to my safety and to others'. Even on trails, as demonstrated today, headphones isolate you from outside feedback, such as other runners (or bikers!) coming up behind you.

Added to this, and part of the same reason, is that when I run, I love to get the whole experience. I do not like to be removed from the environment in which I am running. Hearing the birdsong, the wind, the traffic, other people, is a critical part of my run. And combining it with the sights, smells, and even the tastes completes the experience.

The second reason simply negates the last question. The assumption people make is that, without an external source, I am without music on my runs. The simple fact of the matter is that I cannot remember the last time I ran when I did not have a song of some sort running through my head. I always have music, it just doesn't always come from outside.

In a simple form, I do not wear headphones when I run because I do not need them, and I find they detract from the run. I run because I love running, and I do not need, or want, anything to distract me from it.

Fitting it all in.

I realized yesterday that it had been far too long since I had written here. In all fairness, I have not been able to get as much writing, or running, as I would like in lately. I started a new job three weeks ago, and have been sorting out my schedule ever since. I realize that I have joined the majority of American writers and runners who have to make time in their lives for their passions as well as their work. There are the lucky few for whom those two match up perfectly, but for most it is a constant challenge.

For now, I will focus on the challenge of running, and otherwise keeping fit, while working and, if you are like most of the country, commuting. My new job is reasonably close to my apartment, but still far enough away that the commute is significant: half an hour or more in a car and around an hour by bus. I have chosen to take the bus for a variety of reasons, the most pertinent being expense, the lack of stress, and my general philosophy.

The simple math is this: I spend two hours a day on the bus, or waiting for a bus, and approximately eight hours or more at work. This schedule leaves much less time for running than I am used to having. I am not willing to sacrifice my running time for work, so when do I fit it in?

For the first week and a bit, I tried running first thing in the morning, right after I wake up. This failed for a variety of reasons. The first reason is that I am almost always stiff and sore immediately after I wake up, which does not make for a great run. Second, I usually wake up to a grumbling stomach, which leaves me with little fuel for a run longer than about three miles. Running in the morning also tends to make the whole morning that much more hectic.

So I thought I would try running after I get home from work. I found more problems with this method. Again, by the time I get home from work, I generally am ready to make and eat dinner as soon as possible. A half-hour run and subsequent shower push dinner to seven at the earliest. By the time I would be ready to run after dinner, it could be as late as nine at night, leaving me to run right before bed.

Fortunately, I work in Boulder, Colorado, a rather unique place in several respects. There seem to be more runners per capita in Boulder than anywhere else I have experienced. This means several things. There are far more trails in Boulder than most cities, whether you prefer bike paths or, as I do, more technical trails. Wherever you happen to be in Boulder, there is a trail within easy running distance.

The number of runners in Boulder, and athletes in general, also means that people expect you to be an athlete. My office is equipped with a changing room and a shower for those of us who choose to exercise from work. And that is just what I have begun to do.

Most days, I run around lunch time. This allows me to get much of my work done in the morning, when I am at my best mentally. Similarly, it allows me to get outdoors at lunch, refreshing myself in the middle of the day. I also seem to think and work better after I run, which in turn allows me to get more done in the afternoon than I might otherwise.

This system is working so well for me that, far from not getting enough running in, I am now at risk of running too much too soon and injuring myself. I have had to cut down on the length of my runs in the past few days so I do not overdo it.

That is my solution to the question of when to fit my running in. As for my writing, which is also very important to me, I have not found a good solution yet. I find myself wishing that I had actually gotten the smaller version of the MacBook Air, so that I might get writing in on the bus and during downtime at work. As it is, I always bring two books with me to help pass the time.