Running with Cars

Last night I decided to go for a road run.  I'm in the Chuckanut in less than two weeks and I'm definitely undertrained. Having said that, any training I do right now will provide more mental advantage than physiological - it's too close to race day to expect any meaningful physical improvement. If you haven't guessed by now, I'm a mid-packer (and sometimes not that).

I'd planned on leaving work early and going for a trail run but that didn't pan out (surprise) and I didn't feel like a night trail run, so that left the road.  As I set out along the sea wall in Ambleside, the sights and sounds of the sea with Stanley Park and Vancouver in the distance left me feeling pleased that I was out there. Before long, my inner smile broke. For me, one of the best parts of running is the feeling of a smile rising from my core. On a trail run, the smile that started from within rises to the point where it appears on my lips, eyes and then my entire face. Sometimes it turns into a laugh - when this happens people I come across sometimes look at me oddly, but usually they smile too, I think because people out on the trails know. If it happens to you, you know what I'm talking about. If you don't know that experience, I hope you discover it. A smile that starts at your core is so different than one that starts on your lips - just a social smile.

Soon, I was on the Lions Gate Bridge and heading into town. Although the view is great, at this point I was running with traffic and sucking in the exhaust. The road was wet and the tire noise combined with the clunk clunk of cars, trucks and buses passing over the bridge's expansion joints was almost deafening. My inner smile was there but the noise trapped it in.  On the trails, often the only sound is your own footfall and your breathing - the sound of your body moving itself through the world.

In the end the run was good, but it wasn't a trail run. Thinking about it later, I was struck by the effect that silence has on my body and on my ability to be present and connect with my surroundings.  We spend very little time listening to the sound of our own bodies moving - our breathing and footsteps. Even when alone, in the car for example, we tend to turn on the radio - it really does isolate us from the natural world and from our place in the world.  Even sitting with a friend or loved one, silence can be uncomfortable and awkward - the need to fill the silence with talk, even when you have nothing of substance to say - is a powerful draw.

My next run will be in the forest.

The First Post!

I've thought about writing a blog for a couple years so it's good to finally get going. I'm writing this blog for me really - as a place to organize my ever-evolving thoughts. If someone is interested in reading it, that's great; if not, that's fine too.

I'm an avid trail runner - it's something I've become quite passionate about over the last 4 or 5 years. Most of what I plan on posting will be about trail running - but it won't be limited to that.

2013 wasn't a great year for trail running for me - I let ' busy' get in the way (more about 'busy' to follow in the future), but in the last little bit I've decided to set the time aside to run in the forest and it's been great to get back at it.

I've run each of the last three days - hill repeats on Saturday and then the Lynn Loop on Sunday & Monday. The Lynn Loop is my favorite run on the North Shore and my "staple" run. I usually park at the End of the Line General Store, run the Varley Trail into Lynn Headwaters and the run the upper Loop to the rubble chute and back along Lynn Creek, retracing the Varley Trail to my starting point - about 12 km.

With the recent snowfall, this run is just awesome! Today's run was especially great as the snow was coming down pretty good and there were only a few tracks in the fresh snow. I didn't see anyone for a good 40 minutes. I'm not antisocial but there's definitely something about solitude that makes your experience of nature more crisp. Having said that, when I do see someone, especially a runner, it's hard not to smile knowing that you're both sharing a great experience outside.  Sometimes I honestly feel sorry for people who don't know what it's like to be outside. There's nothing like it, but it's not easy to explain the experience to someone who hasn't done it.

I have an office job and it can involve some long hours and a fair amount of stress - if you let it.  A while ago I made the decision to reduce my hours and my stress and it's been going pretty good.  It's too bad it took me so long to realize that you choose theses things (just like you choose your happiness and most of the other facets of your life).

Tomorrow I'll be heading to Whistler to enjoy more of this great snowfall. See you on the trails.