finding familiar

sunshine eases the bite of the cold, crisp air when you first step into it. that moment when you bargain with the temperatures and the threads on your body to see if it's going to be enough, or perhaps too much. modify if needed, but in most cases you simply get on with it. 

those first few movements of the warm-up, that physical check in. the internal dialogue as you move through it, measuring the consequences of the previous days effort. the ghost of past injuries now filled with healthy motivation and willing muscle, bone and tissue. the loose stretch and activation. those first few steps and the beep of the watch as we move off. these routes are familiar but no day is the same. the dogs that always run out to bark at you, the same sign you've watched fade from weather over time, or a fallen tree you've watched slowly get reclaimed by the earth. the feeling of transition off the pavement onto those first few steps of familiar dirt that changes with weather and traffic. crunchy patches frozen from a recent snow hiding in the shade of old trees that have watched me pass thousands of times. animal tracks mingled with my older familiar tread prints. hitch up the effort now and start to find the flow. the watch is covered by sleeves and not needed, the central governor and a present mind sets the pace for the day. familiar landmarks, seen new as the sun sits in a different place. turns come and pace quickens with the terrain. owl on a branch, watching, hoping i'll flush out a snack. feeling the chill when i dip out of the sun's view. warm at the core, mucus from a lingering cold finding it's way out. 

some days, these runs are surprising in how good they feel and familiar terrain raises my confidence. some days they are dizzy with low calorie or high fatigue and I lean on the familiar to know what's coming due with the remaining terra underfoot. 

how many miles, hours, days do I have on these trails and the efficient competency it has carved out? measuring, knowing how much time we have left on this present deposit we are putting into the bank. is it mileage or something more spiritual? moving off the dirt and choosing a gravel shoulder or paved road, or throttling down when I see my truck posted up, awaiting my return. that press of the watch that signals conclusion. 

that feeling of sitting down, warm and damp from the run. pulling off those gloves and loosening those laces. face flushed from the change of temps. the familiar satisfaction of the discipline and motivation.

je ne regrette nien 

proof of life

needed a first hand look. angeles crest has returned to a fall race date and on the schedule for next year, bucket list race that made sense. i was surprised at how motivated to run it made me. 

so, wanted a baseline. had a plan, wanted to take a bite and see what i could chew. 

showed up. found a dive bar, drank a beer and played some pool. grabbed a nap underneath an early starting nervous 100k runner whos pack testing jumps made it sound like they were coming through the ceiling. coffee'd up. stuffed all the unnecessary "mandatory" gear into a waist belt i never wear and waited patiently while 650+ runners were narcissistically funneled through a chute so they could high five the founder. sat back and watched hundreds of runners awkwardly navigate taking out poles for a 20ft dirt road climb. 

*le sigh. 

i don't have the mileage or any long runs to speak of, but i have a healthy body and some consistency on the backend of being injured and burnt crispy last year. 90 minutes into this deal at the top of the first climb behind a conga line of nervous breakfast farts and awkward conversation at 8000 ft i decided to stop taking it so gently and run 100 mile effort. the course was beautiful and trails were excellent. i moved up 200+ places over the next few hours and surprised myself with every buzz of the watch eclipsing each mile. felt smooth the whole time and was still strong at the end. there is still some good running in me after all. 

proof of life. i have an internal plan of what's to come. sweating more in peace time means we bleed less in war. time to see where it leads me. 

analog

my initial attraction to running off-road was fueled by the easy vibe around it and the community. dig, we still ran roads, but mostly to balance out what the goals were off-road. the relationship with the terrain and sharing the challenge with friends in a time when flow was the goal and completion was celebrated as equally as speed was. analog training logs and analog timing. looking up to take in the views and listening to the water flow versus looking at gps watches and being driven by external data. eating when we were hungry and drinking when we were thirsty. the balance offered a sustainability and built love instead of what i'm seeing so much of now. burnout in exchange for a short stint of attention before unrealized expectations murder the vibe and folks go looking elsewhere for those kudos. step back. look up. 

fully present and aware of how this has changed, i'm grateful to have experienced this early vibe and that it is the foundation of my love for running trails and built on those experiences as i now stand aside and watch the sport in it's current growth spurt based upon high fuel, data and carbon fiber plates. it's a cycle, like so many others that have come and gone, so it goes...

periwinkle blue

surrealism aims to revolutionize human experience. it balances a rational vision of life with one that asserts the power of the unconscious and dreams. the movement's artists find magic and strange beauty in the unexpected and the uncanny, the disregarded and the unconventional. at the core of their work is the willingness to challenge imposed values and norms, and a search for freedom. 

-Tate

vecchia gloria

experience, opinions and unsolicited advice 

i actually love when people admit their desires, their competitiveness, their want to win. its accountable. win or lose, you come out knowing who you are. let me burn amongst this heat. 

kindness is not weakness, but just taking shit is. it’s good to be kind… but don’t let anybody step all over you. walk away and clear that energy.

you can do most things you want if you are willing enough to try and strong enough to not care what anyone thinks of it.

the things about you that someone hates will be the same things that someone else loves. anything can show value among the right collectors.

confidence comes from proving yourself to yourself. putting yourself into tough situations, dealing and seeing where it takes you. it doesn’t thrive or grow by living in your comfort zone.

people judge you by your actions. you judge yourself by your intentions. remember that.

being right means the other person is wrong and not every situation has a right and wrong. stop trying to be right and start trying to understand where the common ground is. you can either be right or you can be happy. you rarely get to be both.

being healthy and strong will outlast being fast. take your shot while it's in front of you, then pivot and evolve. be honest with yourself in this process.  time waits for nobody. 

where else can we do this?

de-escalation

the grid consumed me a bit this year. first time burnt out in ages. burned important candles and got burned by some not so important ones, too. lots of night miles in the truck to zip codes and surf breaks, but not as many trail heads as years past. my body felt the consumption and burnout of an emotional mind and physical job and even my compartmentalized stoicism couldn't heal the torn up parts of it for a bit. running didn't feel good, so i rode bikes without a helmet and rode waves without an agenda. yoga lacked flow and the energy in the room wasn't right, so my spirit found sanctuary in meditation and my body in physical therapy my ego thought i didn't need. i let go. de-escalated. 

the baseline is now good as i am about to pass 51 years. i am in love with the process of personal shokunin and am finding the solace of a beginners mind to be freeing. knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit, but wisdom is being smart enough not to put it in a fruit salad. 

much love to you all. 

cat gap

so take me down a road that's a little bit windy

to a place where they still put sugar in their iced tea

where the women are fine and the love is fair

hey, driver, you can drop me off anywhere

zach bryan: hey driver

half centum

somewhere in the alps

"the center of gravity of life remains immutable and that, when one succeeds in understanding it, all life's activities, whether tranquil and studious or intense, may lead to a state of self-awareness which expresses itself perfectly in life and action:

-zen teaching

waldo

i am lucky to have two of the best gigs of the weekend. i love marking the course and i really love getting to announce in race updates and mc the finishes of waldo runners. i have these transactional relationships with folks i get to see every year for a weekend under a united goal of providing a world class experience for runners who choose to visit central oregon with a variety of goals that are relatable to me as a runner.

marking the course i got the see the results of the fire from last year and it's affect on the course. i have the perspective of how things used to look and it was sobering, but unsurprising. the irony was that marking was done with smoke from yet another wildfire in the air. the earth is hotter and drier and whether lightening or man made causes, the beautiful places we love will continue to evolve due to climate change. appreciate them while we have them. race day, the smoke cleared out and we were treated to beautiful weather for running. one of many years of waldo magic i have experienced when smoke and fire threatened to cancel the event. 

we've had two time winners of western states at waldo before. shit, we've had a 14 time winner, but seeing a 68 year old former champion rising to the challenge on two artificial knees to finish this year was incredible. jim howard is a waldo finisher. 

on my data sheet for this year we listed previous waldo finishes. the mix was lots of first time finishers with many multi time finishers. lots of 6, 7 and 8 timers getting one more. i believe this weekend provides some of our past finishers with the same sense of family that the races long time repeat volunteers and staff members feel, and that keeps them coming back for more. among the first timers, i met husbands who had run here back to crew wives who had crewed them running their first 100k. i saw new ultrarunners and names i recognized but were able to meet in person for the first time. the race winner this year was a woman who lived and worked in bend fresh out of college back in 2010 pursuing the professional road racing route. now she's thinking about western states. 

one of the most emotional and reflective finishes for me this year was jeff riley. bili ran the race 7 times early on in waldo's infancy and was a volunteer in other years. life has it's challenges and bili was not immune to them and we didn't see him for a long time. this was a guy we spent thousands of miles on the trails with training for States, doing speedwork, long runs, lot of laughter, brownies, etc. he was a brother and reconnecting with him last year at the finish was one of my highlights. he was running again, in a healthy place physically and emotionally and wanting to run waldo this year. looking across that field last saturday seeing that unmistakable running form emerging from the woods towards the finish and then looking to my left and seeing OD, LB, Dano, Q, T-Bag and lc the nostalgia, happiness and excitement absolutely dissolved any chance of me maintaining composure that was already hanging on by a thread. i realize now as i write this that if you could take a snapshot of what waldo is...it's moments and memories like that one. everyone has a story. it's that feeling. it's that celebration, for all of us. runners, crews, volunteers, staff. it's that love that keeps everyone coming back here and new folks coming up. there is no gatekeeper. all are welcome and we look forward to having you. see you next year. 

mayonaise

Fool enough to almost be it
Cool enough to not quite see it
Doomed
Pick your pockets full of sorrow
Run away with me tomorrow
June
Try, ease the pain
Somehow we'll feel the same
Well, no one knows
Where our secrets go
I send a heart to all my dearies
When your life is so, so dreary
Dream
I'm rumored to the straight and narrow
While the harlots of my perils
Scream
And I fail
But when I can, I will
Try to understand
That when I can, I will
Mother weep the years I'm missing
All our time can't be given
Back
Shut my mouth and strike the demons
Cursed you and your reasons
Out of hand and out of season
Out of love and out of feeling
So bad
When I can, I will
Words defy the plan
When I can, I will
Fool enough to almost be it
Cool enough to not quite see it
Old enough to always feel this
Always old, I'll always feel this
No more promise no more sorrow
No longer will I follow
Can anybody hear me
I just want to be me
When I can, I will
Try to understand
That when I can, I will

smashing pumpkins. mayonaise

tux

a little earlier today, old man tuxedo transitioned off this mortal coil. he was incredibly resilient, sweet natured, handsome, curious and idiosyncratic cat & i treasure the almost 18 years he graced my life.

rest well, tux. 

memoir

 "but memoir mocks me," i laugh, "with the very thing it requires.  memory."

memories are fallible.  they change over time.  some become recollection, some rehearsed, some recitation of something reasonably close to the original memory.  some disappear entirely.  two people can experience the exact same event, share the exact same conversation, yet have completely different recollections of it...if they remember it all.  i remember telling some of these stories long ago; i remember exactly which ones i wrote down in college, in a black moleskin journal during a very up and down time.  those memories are gone now, leaving in their wake the simple memory of having once written them down.  i remembered more then.  i also remembered less.

when i remember the rider, it happened in saguaro national park.  that’s impossible, of course, because the rider happened when i lived on campus, so it most likely was sabino canyon.  when i remember the ugly t-shirt, it happens in the warehouse with the velvet elvis poster on the bathroom door, but that’s impossible too.  my memory is not reliable.  my memory is false.  my memories themselves are real.  real enough that i remember the things i don’t remember at all.  and this is how the stories come: disjointed.  christmas in august in fiji, summer in a snowstorm in transylvania county, skateboard wheels and lollipops in a brazilian girl’s jewelry box at burning man  unbidden, unordered, uninvited.  but still they come.

some are interpreted though the lenses of fear, loss, poverty.  some are romanticized, sprinkled with sunlight and sunsets, dusted with campfire flames, sweetened with a look that cut right through me and messages i apparently only sent to myself. some are the stories i made up to trick myself, the only way i could connect the dots, get up in the morning, go to sleep at night, survive another day.  some, like the gunshot, are nothing more than scar tissue. the trauma brain, in protecting its host, destroys its memory to splice it back together into something bearable.  one is left with shreds.  fragments. gaping black holes of absolute nothingness while at the same time wishing my head could sometimes forget the years of things my eyes have seen, but are hungry to remember the feelings dulled by time.

i think its fair to say that we are left with the knowledge that our very own life has been redacted.

if I told my story exactly as i remember it, it wouldn’t be true.  it couldn’t be true.  time transforms memory.  our lens transforms memory.  trauma, joy, life experience and even love and pleasure itself transforms memory.  you remember it this way and i remember it that way.  i remember things that you don’t, and you remember things that i don’t.  true, false, falsified, lied.  what is autobiography to begin with?  aren’t we all, to some extent, figments of our own imaginations? 

stardust

 

“we are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. life is eternal. we have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. this is a precious moment. it is a little parenthesis in eternity.”

- paulo coelho, the alchemist

yeet

 91 days and i'm not the only one who's counting. 

loving this feeling right now. 

what a difference from 1 year ago...

2008

monkeyboy kamp. 2 weeks out. 2008

i find myself, along with one other runner i know of, in the unique position of having been on the entry list for the 2008 western states 100 and also the 2020 event that was just recently canceled due to considerations related to the global outbreak of SARS-CoV2 virus known worldwide as the coronavirus disease.

the 2008 cancellation was acute. it was due to a wildfire that affected the course that was the result of lightening strikes a week out from the race. the cancellation was due to poor air quality, safety considerations of volunteers and crew members and the potential need for fire and ems resources to be allocated away from the public need in order to support the event.

for me, personally, this was devastating at the time. the car was packed and i was minutes away from leaving eugene when both my pacer and one of my training partners called me to tell me hold tight and not leave for squaw valley just yet. like so many others that year, i was looking at clear skies, feeling fit and rested and anticipating my first 100 mile run after 3 years of buildup and setbacks to get me to the starting line. it wasn't yet real and my considerations were self centered. reality was the smoke in squaw valley was thick, the considerations listed above were too great to safely hold the event and it was canceled for the first time in the 34 years of the event.

in 2020 the sport, the event itself and the reason for cancellation have global considerations far outreaching the acute local affect of 2008. To date, the virus has killed more than 25,000 people worldwide in a very short time and globally were are a planet being guided by CDC and WHO guidelines to mitigate exposure and try to ease the strain on limited medical resources that are already overwhelmed world wide. western state will be back. as an entrant, i now can shift my running from "training" to health and wellness so i can devote more time supporting my community as a health care provider without the daily emotional strain whether or not i will have the time to get a run in...which has been a new global reality for runners that have been affected by the outbreak of this virus.

the current race director of western states was also scheduled to be a participant in the 2008 race and knows what cancellation feels like. A large representation of the current Board also was a part of that process. i feel this decision was made from a place of experience and very complete consideration on all parts and i support it, especially the timing of it.

2009, like 2014 after a post race wildfire directly affected the course, was a celebration. what is happening globally is life and death. there is a shift in our global economy, healthcare system and day to day life that far outweighs whether or not we get to run from squaw valley to auburn the last weekend in june this year. i'm looking forward to being a part of the next celebration in june 2021. be safe. look out for each other.

dewayne

dink and dewayne. mmtr 1999

my first memory of dewayne was standing off the side with a group of his Team BAD boys at the finish of the shut in ridge run, probably 95 or 96. they were a serious looking group, but dewayne broke into a smile and walked over to our local brood and started cracking jokes and introducing himself and his crew from huntsville. they were a group of guys who all trained together a few days a week and went to races trying to run fast. we all became quick friends. i think 4-5 of them were sub 2:40 guys with roland winning the race that year. those gold colored singlets. dewayne was also had crazy hair, earrings. typical rocket scientist. if you've never met a rocket scientist before, you had when you met dewayne.

next memory was waiting at the start of the grandfather mountain marathon in boone, nc in the late 90's and i see the same group of dudes roll up on harleys and running shorts. again...Team BAD with the hugs, smiles and buttermouths. they ran hard and then jumped on bikes and rode back to huntsville just like they came in. 

mountain masochist in 99 was the next encounter. Team BAD is now out of the gold kits and into the nike pro kits pictured above. dewayne was in full conversation coming into aid stations like he was out on a long run with his buddy dink. they socially put down a 3rd and 5th place finish that year. watching those two guys that year sure made trail running look a helluva lot more fun than road running.   

finally in 2000, i was standing at the foothills trail head in laurel fork creek on a random two lane road in south carolina waiting on some guy named claude to get his civil war era blunderbuss to fire and run some 35 miles unsupported to upper whitewater falls up in north carolina on a typical humid day in august. i think clark and i were the only one's i saw not wearing long trail gear. we take off and clark and i separate pretty quickly with byron backer and after about 5 miles two things happen; clark takes off, setting the course record that still stands 20 years on now and dewayne, who missed the start by 2 or 3 minutes catches us. i end up spending the next 25 miles running next to dewayne on a remote trail that transcends state lines talking about life, family, trail running and Team BAD. along the way i started to cramp about 30 miles into it and dewayne takes off. i come around a corner with dewayne at a dead stop in the middle of the trail. he had waited for me to point out a huge cottonmouth snake eating a mouse in the middle of the trail. i'll never forget the excitement on his face. "you ever seen anything like THIS in your road races?" with a huge grin. he takes off and beats me up the stairs and is humbly gracious at the finish. at that time, my marathon PR was significantly faster than his but he beat me soundly. 

next year, dewayne is the throes of his dominance at mountain mist 50k on his home course in monte sano. i was still fairly green ultrarunner, i spent all winter training to break his win streak. i tried to psyche out the Team BAD boy by painting my nails black and came up to him during the pre-race dinner and told him "i was gonna stick to him like glue tomorrow". he smiled, said he looked forward to it. sure enough, a triathlete took off early and dewayne and i settled in and picked up where we left off the previous august. he's giving me a tour of monte sano while i'm stuck in my head racing. he did share his secret bottles of sweet tea he had stashed in various hiding spots vs. using crew. we caught the early leader and i took the lead and made a break from him just past 25. shortly after, come mile 26 i was walking with cramps and dewayne tactically comes up on me at the base of waterline trail climb that is famous in the race course and says "now would be a good time to stick to me like glue" with a wry smile and precedes to run away from me again and win his umpteenth mountain mist in a row at that time. rob youngren catches me walking and asks "how the glue sticking to dewayne was working out". i took my fair share of lumps as a young, cocky newbie. the winners were very gracious. dewayne made a point post race of seeking me out to give me counsel on how to come back and break his streak the next year. even at his best...he was the best kind of human. 

few other races here and there. some night road races, a 10 miler on the redstone arsenal where dewayne worked. then...i moved west. social media allowed virtual connection here and there and when i checked my email after my first western states, dewayne had a note of congratulations on my finish at the top of my inbox and he recalled that conversation we had about the race some 9 years before. i had no idea he was watching. i don't know if he ever knew the impact he had on getting me there. 

december 2018 i'm working the lottery in auburn and i hear his name called. quick look at my phone shows me that indeed, it had been 1994 since dewayne had a finish at western states. the past three or four years i had seen dink as either a racer or spectator at states, and the re-connection always felt good. so i was looking forward to having dewayne come west. a few messages back and forth and we meet in squaw for a short catch up after 14 years of not seeing him. same old dewayne. little grey now, but that smile was the same. i missed his golden hour finish as i was up on robie but he did pause for a big hug on his way past heading towards the track. turns out, unexpectedly, that's the last memory i'll have with him and like so many others i've thought about in the last few days, i'll cherish it.  

dewayne satterfield was one of my first real ultrarunning heros along with his buddy, dink taylor. dewayne was cool. he was smart. he was sincere and he was the rug that generally tied the room together and i wanted to emulate so much about him. i thought a lot about Team BAD while training with my eugene crew some years later and i imagine the bond our crew formed was a lot like what they had going on in huntsville in the mid 90s. it was magical and it was authentic, just like dewayne. 

i'll miss you, my friend. 

dewayne 2019 western states as captured by larry gassan

sankatsu

mountain running
around pine, fir,
manzanita.
stopping atop a ridge
to view, reflect.
hunting eagle
scans the land
with eagle vision,
rises on some quiet current,
sights man
and veers away
to other territories.
the man runs
along trail
across bridge
above
clear rumbling water
past rusted, empty tin can
and snow flower
shouting triumph
in red.
deer bolting
like terror
stops man
frightened first,
thoughtful second,
third  
runs on,
encounters lizard
fixing him
with granite
eye.

-dick dorworth

sunrises, sunsets and visuals in between

 

lost highways, mining castles, hidden single track in two horse towns, alien crash landings, frosty sunrises and sunset, safe words, hashtags, tainted pink....yetis, branded beavers on bikes, moscow mules, great friends, phantom ranches, canyons and lots of am radio stations still playing old country songs.

summer

spec·i·fic·i·ty

/ˌspesəˈfisədē/

noun

1. the quality of belonging or relating uniquely to a particular subject.

coming off of 4.5 years of inconsistency, injury and setbacks, i went into the early steps of winter with the goal of rebuilding my relationship with running and rebuilding my body. a modest buildup and lots of backcountry skiing and strength work gave me a chance to slowly start transitioning into specific efforts with an eye on exorcising the demon of my broken foot/dnf in 2015 at waldo 100k. age, time off and lost fitness were a consideration when building my prep i selected a few events that i felt best mimicked the waldo 100k course in preperation.

wild outback 55k course profile

some pretty specific needs: moderate mid level altitude, multiple climbs and descents, lots of douche grade and a progression between first race and goal race.

siskiyou outback 50k course profile

wild outback was an eye opener. hard rust buster that my body physically responded to, just didn't have the stamina to race but was pretty pleased to cover any distance over 25 miles for the first time since 2014. physically my climbing at any sort of anaerobic effort was poor as expected coming off the time off and slow rebuild so management and bouncing back was key in that effort. SOB was a marked improvement with recovery from wild outback and some additional training under my belt, i made a fitness jump. the high country in oregon opened up and geared a lot of my training efforts towards being able to handle the repetition of climbing an descending and overall effort of waldo.

waldo 100k course profile

the program worked. i felt good, physically and a nice 2 week taper after a last long effort coming off a really intense period of work and little sleep set me up to accomplish my goal. i don't usually recommend going into an event like waldo with 4.5 years off and only 1100 miles of running in 8 months, but the balance of aerobic ski efforts, strength work, experience and specificity in training and prep races left me with a result i feel good about. plus, it felt good to see a summer of finish lines, goals met and finally a waldo hat.

descending fuji. capture by teri smith

specificity. quality, not quantity. 

fremont

band aids are never meant to be permanent. i finally removed one for good last fall and started back despite not being completely healed and painfully willed my way out of the cycle that had gripped me. looking back on accepting that path and circling back seems on the surface, rather inane. though, in a world where we each spin day to day, unpacking from this past weekend gave me an opportunity to pause and reflect. 

i've done the work and hit a marker recently, so before i continue on this adventure of physical and spiritual rebuilding, i can't do it without an honest assessment of what person stands in the mirror and the experiences learned leading into and during the current relaunch

a few lessons delivered to me:

-laughter > ibuprofen. if only we could bottle the stuff. since we can't, build your tribe and water that seed frequently. don't go numb.

-there is a big difference between having a good life and being a good person. my town in full of people with shiny toys and empty hearts. rather than get pulled in, i decided to push free and be a better fucking person. sincerity beats sprinter in any hand of poker at my table

-don’t ever, ever get complacent. this could be a post in itself, but the slope is slippery. keep your head clear. stay humble, motivated and engaged in the moment.

i've got more lumps coming. this i know. with those lumps though, i also get a few more miles, smiles and experiences that i've gladly observed vicariously while injured tissue kept me locked. i embrace and look forward to receiving all of them and earning the measurable gains like i've already had in this short period of time. 

thankful

jun 8, 2019. sharing my stoke at my first ultra finish line since 2014. photo by jake