Week Three of The Artist's Way has you doing a little exploring of the side of yourself you show the world versus what you really feel inside. (It reminds me a little the Friends episode where they say "What does Rachel claim is her favorite movie?" Dangerous Liaisons. "What is her actual favorite movie?" Weekend at Bernie's)
One of the exercises is listing people who admire.... like Oprah, Ellen DeGeneres, or Anderson Cooper. Now stop. Who do you really admire? Like Russell Brand (who, let's face it, just puts it all out there, unapologetically. And who is actually really smart if you listen to him.) or Adam Sandler (for pretty much all the same reasons) or Jen Lancaster. (who is just about the funniest person on the planet) Apparently, being funny is pretty high on my list of admirable characteristics. I thought I'd have more athletes on that list.
Now, name three people who have died who you wish you had met like Hellen Keller, or Theodore Roosevelt, or Margaret Thatcher. Ok, but who would you really like to have the opportunity to spend some time with in the afterlife? Like Gertrude Stein, Oscar Wilde, and Mark Twain.
You know that famous question about having the opportunity to have a dinner party with whoever you want, living or dead? I'd want a dinner party that had good conversation, smart banter, and above all, a lot of fun. Since its a hypothetical scenario, I wouldn't have to clean up. How great would the conversations be at this table?
1) Oscar Wilde
2) Dorothy Parker
3) Gertrude Stein
4) Adam Duritz from the Counting Crows
5) Russell Brand
6) Adam Sandler
7) Mark Twain
8) Ernest Hemmingway
9) Margaret Thatcher
10) Oprah
11) Larry Flint
12) Janeane Garofalo
13) John Stewart
14) Stephen Colbert
15) Anderson Cooper
and just to make sure there's never a dull moment at this table:
Bill O'Reilly.
I'll be at the end of the table, watching the fray with the Dali Lama. Because I think he'd really get a kick out it, too. (though his translator would have a really hard night!)
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Humbled
Once again, its time for the Weekly Writer's Workshop courtesy of MamaKat. I do like these little assignments!
This week, I chose: Talk About an Experience Where You Felt Humbled
In looking back over my life experiences, one thing that stood out for me is how those experiences that leave you humbled more often than not also leave you empowered.
This year, I can pretty much divide my life into three distinct phases: phase 1 -- before hiking, phase 2 --the hike, and phase 3 -- post hike. Each phase held a big decision, a big challenge. Each was pretty humbling in its own way. And each was empowering in a different way, as well.
PHASE ONE: PRE-HIKE
When I made the decision to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail late last year, I figured the big steps had already been taken, so to speak. I had decided that this was something I had wanted to do for a long time and damn it, I was going to do it! Period. End of story. Hooray for me.
Then I actually had to take action.
Writing out a letter of resignation and actually quitting my job was harder than I thought it would be. Not because of the logistics of living without a paycheck for 6 months. That was the easy part. No, actually taking action and quitting made me face, head on, all the struggles and conflicts I had faced in this position.
Like any job, this one was riddled with challenges-- the majority of which had little to do with my core responsibilities. Always a problem solver, I jumped head first into resolving the issues and making everything work seamlessly. It wasn't that easy. But I had always believed that when things were difficult, you just had to try harder, work harder. So I tried harder and worked harder. And things did not change.
When you have always believed that there is nothing you cannot do, if you just put your mind to it; if you have always been able to succeed at anything you tried, it comes as quite a shock when you try and try and do not succeed. In taking the action of actually quitting, I had to come to the humbling realization that no, I cannot change the world single handedly.
And then a weight lifted from my shoulders. I cannot change the world single handedly. I was never meant to.
PHASE TWO: THE HIKE
Any sane person would already know. When undertaking a 2200 mile long hike across 14 states, it would seem to reason that I should expect it to be hard. And I did. Sort of.
I expected long days. I expected sore legs and feet and arms. I expected to be hungry and cold and tired. I just didn't expect so much of it!
And I didn't expect the rocks.
I hiked over non-stop rocks from the middle of Virginia until Massachusetts. Then, after a brief reprieve, they started up again in New Hampshire and continued on through Maine. I discovered something: I'm not great on rocks. I have to go slow. I have to carefully pick my way over the rocks. And I was acutely aware of my short little hobbit legs the entire time. I had a hard time keeping up with some of my hiking partners. And my feet hurt so much! This was so much harder than I thought it would be.
I, along with many other hikers, kept asking "When does it get easier?" Short answer: it doesn't. Just because we put in all that hard work in the states we thought were hardest doesn't mean the trail got easier when we thought it should. You have to keep working hard whether you are prepared for it or not. (It's true of life as well, not just the trail, isn't it?)
I have to say that to this point, hiking the Appalachian Trail has been the most humbling as well as the most empowering experience of my life. Though it was non-stop difficult, it was also filled with amazing views, amazing people, and of course, the wonderful sense of accomplishment at the end.
PHASE THREE: POST HIKE
When I was preparing for the hike, I read a lot about the difficulties people had to adjusting to "real life" after spending 5 to 7 months living outside, hiking all day. To which I thought: "What a bunch of rubbish!" These people, I surmised, were just rationalizing their own laziness!
Imagine my surprise when I had so much difficulty adjusting to living indoors! (The air indoors is so much dirtier than the air outdoors!) Plus, the humbling realization that I just can't jump right back into my old life.
And the empowering realization that I don't want to.
This week, I chose: Talk About an Experience Where You Felt Humbled
In looking back over my life experiences, one thing that stood out for me is how those experiences that leave you humbled more often than not also leave you empowered.
This year, I can pretty much divide my life into three distinct phases: phase 1 -- before hiking, phase 2 --the hike, and phase 3 -- post hike. Each phase held a big decision, a big challenge. Each was pretty humbling in its own way. And each was empowering in a different way, as well.
PHASE ONE: PRE-HIKE
When I made the decision to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail late last year, I figured the big steps had already been taken, so to speak. I had decided that this was something I had wanted to do for a long time and damn it, I was going to do it! Period. End of story. Hooray for me.
Then I actually had to take action.
Writing out a letter of resignation and actually quitting my job was harder than I thought it would be. Not because of the logistics of living without a paycheck for 6 months. That was the easy part. No, actually taking action and quitting made me face, head on, all the struggles and conflicts I had faced in this position.
Like any job, this one was riddled with challenges-- the majority of which had little to do with my core responsibilities. Always a problem solver, I jumped head first into resolving the issues and making everything work seamlessly. It wasn't that easy. But I had always believed that when things were difficult, you just had to try harder, work harder. So I tried harder and worked harder. And things did not change.
When you have always believed that there is nothing you cannot do, if you just put your mind to it; if you have always been able to succeed at anything you tried, it comes as quite a shock when you try and try and do not succeed. In taking the action of actually quitting, I had to come to the humbling realization that no, I cannot change the world single handedly.
And then a weight lifted from my shoulders. I cannot change the world single handedly. I was never meant to.
PHASE TWO: THE HIKE
Any sane person would already know. When undertaking a 2200 mile long hike across 14 states, it would seem to reason that I should expect it to be hard. And I did. Sort of.
I expected long days. I expected sore legs and feet and arms. I expected to be hungry and cold and tired. I just didn't expect so much of it!
And I didn't expect the rocks.
I hiked over non-stop rocks from the middle of Virginia until Massachusetts. Then, after a brief reprieve, they started up again in New Hampshire and continued on through Maine. I discovered something: I'm not great on rocks. I have to go slow. I have to carefully pick my way over the rocks. And I was acutely aware of my short little hobbit legs the entire time. I had a hard time keeping up with some of my hiking partners. And my feet hurt so much! This was so much harder than I thought it would be.
I, along with many other hikers, kept asking "When does it get easier?" Short answer: it doesn't. Just because we put in all that hard work in the states we thought were hardest doesn't mean the trail got easier when we thought it should. You have to keep working hard whether you are prepared for it or not. (It's true of life as well, not just the trail, isn't it?)
I have to say that to this point, hiking the Appalachian Trail has been the most humbling as well as the most empowering experience of my life. Though it was non-stop difficult, it was also filled with amazing views, amazing people, and of course, the wonderful sense of accomplishment at the end.
PHASE THREE: POST HIKE
When I was preparing for the hike, I read a lot about the difficulties people had to adjusting to "real life" after spending 5 to 7 months living outside, hiking all day. To which I thought: "What a bunch of rubbish!" These people, I surmised, were just rationalizing their own laziness!
Imagine my surprise when I had so much difficulty adjusting to living indoors! (The air indoors is so much dirtier than the air outdoors!) Plus, the humbling realization that I just can't jump right back into my old life.
And the empowering realization that I don't want to.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Oriental Stir Fry Carrots
Fall is still spectacular, and the farmer's market is still brimming with wonderful produce. I'm loving the weather and the food.
This week, I picked up a lovely bunch of carrots.
Normally, I would prepare both the root part and the greens for eating, but after 2 days in the fridge, the greens were looking wilted and not too enticing. (I need to clean out the refrigerator.) In any case, I cooked just the carrots themselves. No matter, they turned out delicious!
Oriental Stir Fry Carrots
1) Cut 5-6 medium carrots into medium thick slices
2) Heat 1 tablespoon canola oil over medium heat in deep fry pan. Add carrots and cover, cooking until soft, about 7 minutes.
3) Meanwhile, in small bowl measure 2 tablespoons white vinegar. (I used white balsamic vinegar which was this gorgeous amber color!)
4) Add 2 tablespoons soy sauce and one minced garlic clove and whisk together.
5) Add sauce to pan with carrots and cook until garlic becomes fragrant, about 3 to 4 minutes.
This week, I picked up a lovely bunch of carrots.
Normally, I would prepare both the root part and the greens for eating, but after 2 days in the fridge, the greens were looking wilted and not too enticing. (I need to clean out the refrigerator.) In any case, I cooked just the carrots themselves. No matter, they turned out delicious!
Oriental Stir Fry Carrots
1) Cut 5-6 medium carrots into medium thick slices
2) Heat 1 tablespoon canola oil over medium heat in deep fry pan. Add carrots and cover, cooking until soft, about 7 minutes.
3) Meanwhile, in small bowl measure 2 tablespoons white vinegar. (I used white balsamic vinegar which was this gorgeous amber color!)
4) Add 2 tablespoons soy sauce and one minced garlic clove and whisk together.
5) Add sauce to pan with carrots and cook until garlic becomes fragrant, about 3 to 4 minutes.
The finished product
And it tasted even better than it looked! Fall rocks. And so does the color orange!
Monday, October 21, 2013
Sad Weekend
This past weekend was very strange for me. Extremely disconcerting. And very sad.
Last weekend I drove out to the town I went to college in and met three friends from college. We hadn't seen each other in a while, and it was nice to see them. It would have been even nicer under different circumstances.
We met at a benefit dinner for one friend's younger sister. Her sister has been battling a very rare and aggressive form of cancer. She has been undergoing radiation and chemotherapy for 30 weeks. They plan on continuing for another 24 weeks. She has been experiencing terrible side effects from the treatment: nausea, weakness, intestinal bleeding, diarrhea, vomiting, sores on her skin, losing her hair, and a plethora of others. She has had days where she cannot hug her small children, for fear of catching their "sniffles." And her prognosis is poor. They do not have on record any patient who has lived past 6 years of diagnosis.
She looked so little and frail.
She is 37 years old.
I see her, and I can't stop thinking of her as Jane's little sister who came to visit at college with her curly curly hair and her baggy sweatshirts. How we would all cram into Jane's room and bring snacks and watch movies with her little Roz. How we would tease her and make her laugh, though she pretended to be mad. How she said she couldn't wait to go to college. And now she is dying.
It's easy for me to say, since I'm not in her situation. I'm sitting at home, safe and sound and healthy. I may think differently if I were in her shoes. But I don't think I'd do it. I don't think I'd undergo 54 weeks of radiation and chemotherapy. I don't think I'd want to spend the remainder of my life in hospitals, hooked up to IV's. I wouldn't want to be nauseous and weak. I wouldn't want to be told not to hug my nieces and nephews.
It seems so backward, the way we approach chronic illness. We surround ourselves with toxic chemicals in our homes, our yards, and our water supply. We eat foods loaded with artificial ingredients. Even the "natural" ingredients are genetically modified. And then when we get sick, our bodies are pumped full of toxins aimed at destroying rapidly growing cells. They are very non-specific in their effects and end up weakening the immune system; our body's defense against illness. And making us sick with their side effects.
It just seems like there has to be a better way! Shouldn't we be focusing more on preventing chronic illness -- limiting the use of toxic chemicals in our homes and our environment? Eating cleaner food? Strengthening our immune systems? It just seems like common sense.
And what about me? I made a big decision to change my life completely -- quit my job and pursue a lifelong dream because I said "Just because my life isn't broken doesn't mean I can't fix it." Then decided failure wasn't an option. Yet applying "Just because I'm not sick doesn't mean I can't get better," I fall short. I allow myself to rationalize when I fall off the clean eating wagon. I opt for more toxic solutions because they are easier or more convenient. I let failure be an option. Even though the stakes are much higher. Where is my common sense?
We -- I -- get so many things wrong!
But we did get at least one thing right.
Roz and Jane both were so happy we came. They were genuinely touched. "It means so much to have friends surrounding you when you really need them!" they said. And for a little while that night, we sat together and made little Roz in her baggy clothes, minus the curly hair, laugh and laugh. For a little while, it was like we were back in college, crammed in Jane's room, having the time of our lives. For a little while, everything was good.
Last weekend I drove out to the town I went to college in and met three friends from college. We hadn't seen each other in a while, and it was nice to see them. It would have been even nicer under different circumstances.
We met at a benefit dinner for one friend's younger sister. Her sister has been battling a very rare and aggressive form of cancer. She has been undergoing radiation and chemotherapy for 30 weeks. They plan on continuing for another 24 weeks. She has been experiencing terrible side effects from the treatment: nausea, weakness, intestinal bleeding, diarrhea, vomiting, sores on her skin, losing her hair, and a plethora of others. She has had days where she cannot hug her small children, for fear of catching their "sniffles." And her prognosis is poor. They do not have on record any patient who has lived past 6 years of diagnosis.
She looked so little and frail.
She is 37 years old.
I see her, and I can't stop thinking of her as Jane's little sister who came to visit at college with her curly curly hair and her baggy sweatshirts. How we would all cram into Jane's room and bring snacks and watch movies with her little Roz. How we would tease her and make her laugh, though she pretended to be mad. How she said she couldn't wait to go to college. And now she is dying.
It's easy for me to say, since I'm not in her situation. I'm sitting at home, safe and sound and healthy. I may think differently if I were in her shoes. But I don't think I'd do it. I don't think I'd undergo 54 weeks of radiation and chemotherapy. I don't think I'd want to spend the remainder of my life in hospitals, hooked up to IV's. I wouldn't want to be nauseous and weak. I wouldn't want to be told not to hug my nieces and nephews.
It seems so backward, the way we approach chronic illness. We surround ourselves with toxic chemicals in our homes, our yards, and our water supply. We eat foods loaded with artificial ingredients. Even the "natural" ingredients are genetically modified. And then when we get sick, our bodies are pumped full of toxins aimed at destroying rapidly growing cells. They are very non-specific in their effects and end up weakening the immune system; our body's defense against illness. And making us sick with their side effects.
It just seems like there has to be a better way! Shouldn't we be focusing more on preventing chronic illness -- limiting the use of toxic chemicals in our homes and our environment? Eating cleaner food? Strengthening our immune systems? It just seems like common sense.
And what about me? I made a big decision to change my life completely -- quit my job and pursue a lifelong dream because I said "Just because my life isn't broken doesn't mean I can't fix it." Then decided failure wasn't an option. Yet applying "Just because I'm not sick doesn't mean I can't get better," I fall short. I allow myself to rationalize when I fall off the clean eating wagon. I opt for more toxic solutions because they are easier or more convenient. I let failure be an option. Even though the stakes are much higher. Where is my common sense?
We -- I -- get so many things wrong!
But we did get at least one thing right.
Roz and Jane both were so happy we came. They were genuinely touched. "It means so much to have friends surrounding you when you really need them!" they said. And for a little while that night, we sat together and made little Roz in her baggy clothes, minus the curly hair, laugh and laugh. For a little while, it was like we were back in college, crammed in Jane's room, having the time of our lives. For a little while, everything was good.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
The Scariest Thing Ever
Once again, a post inspired by MamaKat's writing prompts:
Name something that scared you when you were young....are you still scared?
The first time I remember being scared -- really scared, waking up from a nightmare shaking and covered in sweat -- was when I was 6 years old. I saw an advertisement on TV for 'Salem's Lot. The ad was on after my bedtime, and I was pulling the ol' peek-around-the-corner-of-my-bedroom-door-to-watch-some-forbidden-TV. Well, that certainly showed me to sneak out of bed after my bedtime!
The ad showed a vampire floating in the air, surrounded by fog in an eery bluish moonlight. Unlike other vampires I had seen on TV, this one was not a count: a cape wearing, old fashioned, almost cartoonish vampire complete with a medallion, an ascot, and a glittering blood-red ring. This vampire was a boy. A boy of about 12 years of age, skin ashen, eyes bloodshot, his curly hair disheveled (his mom not around to make him comb it), a bewildered expression on his face as he begged his friend to let him in the window, to help him understand what had happened to him. Yet, beneath it all was an evil glitter in his eyes; he knew exactly what had happened to him and he yearned to take his friend down with him.
The sight of a boy vampire shook me to my very core. Monsters were supposed to be old, dusty relics who appeared in black and white movies on the Creature Double Feature on Sunday afternoons. Not -- kids!
I had nightmares about the boy vampire for months.
Fast forward to today. You may think that the scare I got when I was six may have turned me off to horror movies. But you'd be wrong.
I love horror movies! I love scary horror movies, campy horror movies, funny horror movies, even really bad B-horror movies. In October, I scan the movie channels looking for good horror movies to watch. (You have to sit through an awful lot of bad ones to get to the good ones!) Every so often, I see one that is genuinely scary -- one that makes me consider keeping the lights on when I go to bed.
But never one that has scared me so throughly as the commercial I saw from around the doorjamb when I was six.
Maybe that's a good thing.
Name something that scared you when you were young....are you still scared?
The first time I remember being scared -- really scared, waking up from a nightmare shaking and covered in sweat -- was when I was 6 years old. I saw an advertisement on TV for 'Salem's Lot. The ad was on after my bedtime, and I was pulling the ol' peek-around-the-corner-of-my-bedroom-door-to-watch-some-forbidden-TV. Well, that certainly showed me to sneak out of bed after my bedtime!
The ad showed a vampire floating in the air, surrounded by fog in an eery bluish moonlight. Unlike other vampires I had seen on TV, this one was not a count: a cape wearing, old fashioned, almost cartoonish vampire complete with a medallion, an ascot, and a glittering blood-red ring. This vampire was a boy. A boy of about 12 years of age, skin ashen, eyes bloodshot, his curly hair disheveled (his mom not around to make him comb it), a bewildered expression on his face as he begged his friend to let him in the window, to help him understand what had happened to him. Yet, beneath it all was an evil glitter in his eyes; he knew exactly what had happened to him and he yearned to take his friend down with him.
The sight of a boy vampire shook me to my very core. Monsters were supposed to be old, dusty relics who appeared in black and white movies on the Creature Double Feature on Sunday afternoons. Not -- kids!
I had nightmares about the boy vampire for months.
Fast forward to today. You may think that the scare I got when I was six may have turned me off to horror movies. But you'd be wrong.
I love horror movies! I love scary horror movies, campy horror movies, funny horror movies, even really bad B-horror movies. In October, I scan the movie channels looking for good horror movies to watch. (You have to sit through an awful lot of bad ones to get to the good ones!) Every so often, I see one that is genuinely scary -- one that makes me consider keeping the lights on when I go to bed.
But never one that has scared me so throughly as the commercial I saw from around the doorjamb when I was six.
Maybe that's a good thing.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Sauteed Beets
As much as I love summer, fall is a nice way for summer to end. The weather is beautiful -- warm during the day, crisp at night -- the foliage is gorgeous, and the farmer's market may actually be even better!
Last week, I went to the farmer's market and picked up, among other things, a bunch of beets. They looked and smelled just delicious. Ok, maybe looking delicious is an overstatement, as they are a root vegetable and they were covered with dirt and little stringy roots sticking out all over the place. But they did smell great and looked like they could be delicious with a little work.
Of course, once I got home, I realized that I had no idea how to cook beets.
Thank goodness for Google! I googled away and found a yummy beet recipe. Even better, it used the greens and stems from the beets, as well. I like cooking the greens on root vegetables whenever possible. It just seems less wasteful.
Sauteed Beets and Greens
Ingredients:
1 bunch beets with greens attached
2 TBSP olive oil
1 clove garlic
salt
pecans or walnuts
sunflower seeds
1) Cut stems and greens from beets.
2) Scrub and peel beets.
3) Cut into 1/4 inch slices.
4) In large frying pan, heat 1 TBSP olive oil and 1/4 cup water over medium heat. Add beets, cover, and cook until tender, about 10 minutes.
5) While beets are cooking, wash stems and cut into 2 inch pieces.
6) When beets are tender, add stems, cover and cook for about 3 minutes.
7) Peel and dice garlic. Add to pan and cook until fragrant.
8) Chop greens. Add to pan and cook until wilted, about 1 minute.
9) Divide between 4 bowls. Sprinkle with nuts and sunflower seeds.
Yummy! And once the dirt and stringy roots are removed, don't the beets look delicious? What a great color! Word of caution, though: beets stain. Wear an old crappy shirt when making this. Trust me.
Last week, I went to the farmer's market and picked up, among other things, a bunch of beets. They looked and smelled just delicious. Ok, maybe looking delicious is an overstatement, as they are a root vegetable and they were covered with dirt and little stringy roots sticking out all over the place. But they did smell great and looked like they could be delicious with a little work.
Of course, once I got home, I realized that I had no idea how to cook beets.
Thank goodness for Google! I googled away and found a yummy beet recipe. Even better, it used the greens and stems from the beets, as well. I like cooking the greens on root vegetables whenever possible. It just seems less wasteful.
Sauteed Beets and Greens
Ingredients:
1 bunch beets with greens attached
2 TBSP olive oil
1 clove garlic
salt
pecans or walnuts
sunflower seeds
1) Cut stems and greens from beets.
2) Scrub and peel beets.
3) Cut into 1/4 inch slices.
4) In large frying pan, heat 1 TBSP olive oil and 1/4 cup water over medium heat. Add beets, cover, and cook until tender, about 10 minutes.
5) While beets are cooking, wash stems and cut into 2 inch pieces.
6) When beets are tender, add stems, cover and cook for about 3 minutes.
7) Peel and dice garlic. Add to pan and cook until fragrant.
8) Chop greens. Add to pan and cook until wilted, about 1 minute.
9) Divide between 4 bowls. Sprinkle with nuts and sunflower seeds.
Yummy! And once the dirt and stringy roots are removed, don't the beets look delicious? What a great color! Word of caution, though: beets stain. Wear an old crappy shirt when making this. Trust me.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Trail Running Trial
Yesterday, I decided to go for a hike. It's been about a month since I completed my thru-hike and though I have been walking on roads and on beaches, running on asphalt and dirt, and doing bootcamp style workouts outdoors, I haven't been hiking. I miss it. I feel like something is missing from my life.
To tell the truth, my present workout regime, geared toward re-gaining what little speed I once had, isn't working out exactly the way I had planned. I hit the workouts hard and fast for about a week and a half. Then, all the problems that had plagued me during the last month or so of hiking started coming back. My toes started to get numb again. My body started to ache all over. And I was just SO TIRED!
I figured I needed to listen to my body and take things back a notch. I reduced the speed of my runs, I reduced the frequency of the boot camp workouts. I turned about half of the plyometric moves into low impact moves. I felt a little better.
But I missed hiking.
In southeastern Massachusetts, where I live, there are very few hills and absolutely nothing that would even remotely qualify as a mountain. The closest decent sized hill is about 45 minutes away at the Blue Hills Reservation. I was going to visit my brother and his family this weekend and decided to stop off and go for a hike on the way there and again on the way home.
He lives close to some conservation land where there are some trails and hills. I have a guidebook with suggested hikes rated as "mild", "moderate", and "strenuous." I decided on a strenuous hike, thinking that without a full pack, it would be pretty moderate.
I could not have been more correct! I wouldn't rate that hike as strenuous at all! It barely qualified as a hike. (I think 5 months of ridiculous terrain has skewed my perspective!) I mean, it was beautiful. (The foliage is in full swing and the leaves are falling in big drifts all around) It was relaxing. (Why is it so much easier to breathe in the woods?) It was good for the soul. (Hiking in the woods is like going to church. But better.) But strenuous? Not by a long shot. I was almost bored.
"I could actually run this trail!" I thought. And so I did.
I did not run fast. I did not run far. In sections where the rocks were loose or the soil was eroded, I switched to walking. But I did run.
And I fell in love.
I was never interested in trail running prior to this. I figured marathon training on the road was plenty. I kind of considered trail runners to be hard core lunatics with a thing for self torture.
Now I see how much I was missing out on.
Today I'm not sore or tired or numb. I'm just floating on a high that comes when you discover something totally wonderful and totally new. I'm looking up trails online. I'm planning more runs.
Trail running just seems good for the body, and good for the soul.
To tell the truth, my present workout regime, geared toward re-gaining what little speed I once had, isn't working out exactly the way I had planned. I hit the workouts hard and fast for about a week and a half. Then, all the problems that had plagued me during the last month or so of hiking started coming back. My toes started to get numb again. My body started to ache all over. And I was just SO TIRED!
I figured I needed to listen to my body and take things back a notch. I reduced the speed of my runs, I reduced the frequency of the boot camp workouts. I turned about half of the plyometric moves into low impact moves. I felt a little better.
But I missed hiking.
In southeastern Massachusetts, where I live, there are very few hills and absolutely nothing that would even remotely qualify as a mountain. The closest decent sized hill is about 45 minutes away at the Blue Hills Reservation. I was going to visit my brother and his family this weekend and decided to stop off and go for a hike on the way there and again on the way home.
He lives close to some conservation land where there are some trails and hills. I have a guidebook with suggested hikes rated as "mild", "moderate", and "strenuous." I decided on a strenuous hike, thinking that without a full pack, it would be pretty moderate.
I could not have been more correct! I wouldn't rate that hike as strenuous at all! It barely qualified as a hike. (I think 5 months of ridiculous terrain has skewed my perspective!) I mean, it was beautiful. (The foliage is in full swing and the leaves are falling in big drifts all around) It was relaxing. (Why is it so much easier to breathe in the woods?) It was good for the soul. (Hiking in the woods is like going to church. But better.) But strenuous? Not by a long shot. I was almost bored.
"I could actually run this trail!" I thought. And so I did.
I did not run fast. I did not run far. In sections where the rocks were loose or the soil was eroded, I switched to walking. But I did run.
And I fell in love.
I was never interested in trail running prior to this. I figured marathon training on the road was plenty. I kind of considered trail runners to be hard core lunatics with a thing for self torture.
Now I see how much I was missing out on.
Today I'm not sore or tired or numb. I'm just floating on a high that comes when you discover something totally wonderful and totally new. I'm looking up trails online. I'm planning more runs.
Trail running just seems good for the body, and good for the soul.
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