Nature's Grace

The mild winter breeze of the Sonoran desert was a welcome from the night before. The day started with the sun brightly shining as I was laying in my tent and resting my head on my girlfriend’s shoulder while feeling the wind slip into our tent.  It was akin to laying on the beach like those people you’d see in Sandals commercials smiling and looking so care-free. Come to think of it, the only thing different in my situation was coarser sand and the lack of a large body of water. That’s not to say there isn’t any water out here, it’s just not visible to the untrained eye.  Fortunately, wild animals have been taught through evolution to survive in this harsh climate. What my girlfriend and I were doing was precisely that, surviving out in the desert. After living more than a year out in the Southwest we have adapted to many of the extremes desert living has to offer. We have been witness to extreme heat, extreme sun exposure, extreme dryness, extreme sand storms, and extreme dehydration (no joke out here). 

Out in the high desert plains in Southeastern California Joshua Tree National Park boasts plenty for those willing to explore. This was our destination for the weekend. It's only a 3 hour drive for us and well worth the journey. Unfortunately all the camping sites were taken in the park so we resorted to taking advantage of our free public lands outside the park courtesy of the Bureau of Land Management. We set up camp near a monument that commemorated a camp site from WWII that General Patton had established for training. It wasn’t much of a memorial having just a 5 foot tall brick monument with a plaque describing the details of the historic military camp. We took advantage of the marker for our friend that would joining us later that evening. But while waiting for our friend we experienced the oddity of rain in the desert. We were struggling setting up our tent in strong 25 mph winds. While wrestling with our rainfly and ground stakes I looked to the west at the looming clouds and instinctively knew rain was on the way. I had a feeling that these dry dust covered bushes and flowers around us were rubbing their hands together in anticipation. As the last of the sun rays disappeared behind the dark looming clouds we began to feel sprinkles. It felt nostalgic feeling the raindrops dampen our clothes and skin. The nostalgia was not enough to keep us exposed and become soaked in the storm. We retreated into our vehicle to wait out the storm. This was a legit storm with a steady stream of round raindrops falling fantastically. The ground never pooled or puddled that night but for a desert rain, it was enough to dramatically change the landscape.

The changes were more visible in the morning as the spring flowers were awakening to the morning sun. Having absorbed much of the precipitation throughout the night these flowers and vegetation in the desert were ready to blossom. The beauty of the desert is easy to observe after a rain. The beauty in life can sometimes be hard to see. With the rush of our lifestyles and getting wrapped up with all the instant information our fingers provide it’s overwhelming at times. Disconnecting and appreciating nature is not the full answer either but it does help. Usually I reach this content with my running but just hiking and being in nature reaps rewards all of their own. The hardest part is transitioning back into society after a successful detox from technology. I instantly feel my senses overload with the simple act of turning my phone on. There is so much information uploading within minutes. Missed calls, voicemails, texts, tweets, updates, weather alerts, friend requests, emails, and recommended podcasts I should download. But I suppose this is the life modern man is exposed to. And I am just a man who must go forth and survive. I suspect the balance I keep with regular ventures off the grid keeps my mental health going strong. That and having a companion that shares my sentiments helps quite a bit too.

Surviving is important but what of those who have not? Surviving is critical for life but also critical for life is death. I received the news my grandmother had passed away this morning from phone messages left by my parents. I was in a pleasant mood on the drive back home from my wonderful weekend when I heard this heartbreaking news. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. What is life if not a capstone of mortality? Yes it is difficult to lose a loved one and feel sadness with their passing but an understanding of life and death can ease that pain. I looked at the passing landscape of sand buttresses and outcroppings of earth collapsing from natural erosion processes with nothing but thoughts of how interconnected we all are to this earth. The hummingbirds that were picking nectar above my head from the flowering Desert Lavender next to my tent this morning are as much a part of this earth as anything else in this world that exists. There is a word for the accepting of God’s presence on earth. I believe that word is grace. If nature’s presence is as real as I feel it is, then I certainly felt the grace of nature this morning. That peace that I felt thinking about my grandmother was another part of this world that I am thankful for. I feel as though her passing is another experience that ties me to this planet. Her memories may be gone with her but her significance lives on through me and through all those that build a relationship with me.

My sister recently sent me an email with an article that claimed relationships are the true meaning in life. I can buy that. I would also add that those relationships be not limited to people but to pets, places, hobbies, and of course nature. Relationships are nothing if not a recognition of existence between another. That recognition can have various ranges of significance for either party. But that bond, that relationship exists regardless of either party's opinion. Thus, my relationship with my grandmother is there and will remain so as long as I live. 

As for the rest of the trip, it was full of wonderful experiences. Some of which were captured on film but mostly they were just shared among us. It’s such a peaceful experience living in the moment and focusing not on the future but in the present. Experiencing nature’s grace.

Summer Running - Desert Edition

As I’m moving over the hot sand and dirt paths I’m blasted with a breeze that brings pre-heating oven temperatures across my face. Of course the temperature is only about 109F, but it certainly feels like the inside of an oven with the sun shining brightly adding an extra dash of singe to my run. The insides of my lips that cover my gums are the only part of my body that isn’t cooking. The reason for that is the wonderful and amazing hydrologic phenomenon of evaporative cooling. As I exhale through my mouth and nose the water vapor is instantly evaporated in the arid environment and because of the high latent heat of evaporation of water the air around it cools comparatively to the scorching desert heat. This is the same principle that cools your skin when you sweat. It creates a micro-climate around my mouth and it is through this small natural cooling process that I can channel my thoughts to a comfortable place to keep cool on my run. It’s amazing how refreshing a tiny bit of cool air can feel on what the National Weather Service calls an “Excessive Heat Warning” day. It felt similar to that nice refreshing feeling that you get when you drink a cold beverage on a hot day and your mouth is all dry. You can feel the cool liquid just splashing its way down your esophagus and feel the comfortable chilled fluids reaching your stomach. Just imagine that but instead you are supplying that refreshing feeling on your gums and that feeling is repeated constantly with each breath you take. Extreme weather calls for extreme methods.

Of course, there are other issues to consider while running in this heat. For example, spontaneous combustion is a serious concern. I saw about a dozen birds that were randomly ripped to pieces along my route. Now there could be a few possibly reasons for this. 1) There is a series of electric poles along the route and perhaps an electric surge passed through and vaporized the poor birds. 2) Perhaps a Dust Devil whirled its way on this path and with the column of sand and rocks gained enough momentum to rip the birds into shreds. 3) Lastly, it could be that the birds simply had heat exhaustion and fell from the sky traveling at terminal velocity and rupturing on impact. But ultimately, I think the likely reason is that the molecules inside the birds’ bodies simply said “Okay, this is it. It’s too damn hot. Let’s blow this joint!” and just like that they exploded.

Another smart strategy to keep cool on a run is to continuously douse water on your wrists and neck. It seems the nerves in those areas are somehow susceptible to regulating body temperature. I remember watching a documentary when I was younger on kangaroos and the way they are able to stay cool in the hot Australian Outback. They just lick their forearms and let the evaporation cool off their arms. Employing this strategy works well for humans too. But instead of saliva I chose water from my water bottle to do the trick. In this heat I’ll splash my wrists and neck every few minutes and let science keep me cool. It’s only 3 miles today and I’m thankful for that. Once I get home I immediately jump into a cold shower. Once I get out I continue to sweat for another 30 minutes until my body returns to normal temperature. 

As you can imagine, running in the desert is hard. Especially if it’s in the middle of the day. That’s something I have to remind myself when I hit the snooze button at 4:30 AM and choose to sleep in during the coolest part of the day (usually mid 80s) thereby forcing me to run in the inferno of the afternoon heat. I’ll try to remember that and if I don’t, I’ll keep these hot weather tips in mind. I’ll also keep my fingers crossed that my molecules don’t decide to go boom.

Patience

The sun and its benevolent rays of photons shine radiantly on the rocks and sand. Fortunately, the heat is not intense this early in the year. For now it is warm and rather comforting. The day is coming to an end and yet I have just begun my ascent up Telegraph Pass. The twilight hours linger with the open landscape as daylight begins to diminish across the open desert. I come to this trail once a week and it is my dose of “real” trail running that keeps me sated. I haven't done near as much trail running as I'd like this year but I know that it's still early and I will be bagging peaks and bombing trails soon enough. I have to let my body adjust to the desert climate and practice a very crucial skill that all ultra runners must hone, patience.

Patience is what can make anyone a great trail runner. I am fortunate enough to possess some talent with patience that has also worked well in my non-running life. On the trails it is clear that patience is necessary if you want to trail run with longevity and more importantly, injury-free. I may not be winning races but I have an innate ability to keep moving along slow, steady and consistently. This patience has been tested in a new way out here in the desert. I have been dealing with learning to wait until my body acclimates to the weather out here before I can get back to my level of running I am used to. It seems that my body has grown accustomed to taking some down time in the winter and not pushing my limits too much. Around this time of the year I would normally be running in snow and ice with strong winds blasting at my face. I would be content with just having made it out the door and braved the elements for 30- 45 minutes or even a full hour.  But the scene down here in the desert country is different this time of the year. Right now is the prime time to do your running out here. Cool mornings and sunny afternoons make it perfect conditions for runners to run their hearts out. Oh, and also no snow makes it pleasant running weather too. The conflict I’m facing is that the weather makes me want to be running at my peak but I’m dealing with a body that is accustomed to taking it easy in the winter months. 

This is why patience is needed. I ran the Yuma Territorial half marathon at the end of January and did quite well finishing in 1:38 with very little training (I was able to snag 2nd place in my age group too!). This inspired me to keep pushing my limits and jump into a 50K in mid February. Of course, my body had a different plan. I could have pushed on and went to the 50K race and "struggle-fested" my way through it but instead I sided with patience and took an easy weekend of hiking instead. I had also caught a slight cold prior to the 50K so I didn’t really get in a long run at all. My longest run would have been that flat road half marathon which would have been poor metrics to judge my capability on a rugged, hilly, and technical 50K course that is the Black Canyon Ultra.

I’ve made due here in Yuma and I have been sticking to running the many canal trails that vein their way from the Colorado River through the many agricultural fields here in town. The trails along the canals are mostly dirt, small rocks, and loose sand. Sometimes when the wind picks up a small dirt devil that smacks you in the face and you better close your mouth or you’ll be crunching sand with your back molars even after a rinse of water. And as for when to run, you’d want to get done by noon at the latest since there is almost no shade. There is temporary reprieve as some large bales of hay sit next to a farm field that can provide shade about 4 miles into my run, but other than that your best bet is to find an electric pole or keep moving. 

As for my weekly run up Telegraph Pass, this run is always pleasant. There is a group that I’ve been running with called the Yuma Desert Runners and we always seem to enjoy our run. I never wear a watch (actually I only wear a watch during races to make sure I'm eating regularly) and simply go with how I’m feeling that day.  The first mile is pretty technical but it’s where you can run fast. The next mile is pretty much all up-hill. It’s quite steep as you gain just under 900 feet in a short distance but the view from up top is hard to beat in Yuma. On the way down it can get a bit harry if you have a fear of heights as the trail has drop-offs near the edge that would definitely leave a mark on you, if you somehow managed to survive the fall. But after making it back to the first section I love finding my grove and blasting through the rocky sections. I can almost close my eyes when I’m in my grove and let my feet do the guiding. Just feeling my way through it and nimbly making my way back to the trailhead would be satisfying enough but I’m also greeted with a spectacular sunset that spans the entire horizon just as I finish my run. The perks of the desert are many, you just need to know where to find them.

As I’m preparing for the hot summer that will have me running at 4am to avoid the 120 degree heat, I am patient because I know that when my body is ready it will let me know. For now, I’m okay running easy and by feel. There are plenty of trails to discover and when I run them they will share their wisdom in due time. I’m content exploring more of Yuma and know that each place is special because it’s not always about where you are, it’s about what you make of where you are. Also being with cool people helps too. And like my friend Chaz who I met down here recently told me, “If you’re a miserable person, you’ll be miserable everywhere you go.”

 

 

2014 ends, 2015 begins

The past few days I have smiled big smiles while recalling my accomplishments throughout the last year. I remember going into 2014 with high hopes of accomplishing more than I had in 2013. I had done so much in 2013 that I couldn’t fathom accomplishing more in another year that would trump it. 

I love being wrong. 2014 was absolutely greater than 2013. I didn’t race much this last year but instead had amazing runs in amazing places. I ran through polar vortexes, canyons, forests, alongside rivers and lakes, and even up and down mountains. I ran with friends, family, and even did some dog running. Most of the days I ran solo but never without thoughts of loved ones to keep me company. I also managed to finish my college degree and enter the real world once again. But most importantly of all, I fell in love with the sweetest girl I know. It is because of her that I now have the opportunity to run in the southwest exploring deserts, mountains, and the west coast. And best of all, we get to share these moments together. 

I have wanted to sit down and write a few more of these blog posts since my last one in July. I’m sorry if you were looking for any new posts and didn't find any. Don't worry, you didn't miss one. I actually haven’t had the chance to write anything in a while. Life just got tremendously busy for me the last 5 months of the year. Now that I have settled down in Yuma, Arizona I plan on sharing more of my running tales with you devoted readers. In the coming weeks I’ll finish up my race recap from The Arkansas Traveler 100 (spoiler: DNF) and also a post about returning to the flat lands of Illinois after my big summer in Colorado. Aside from that, you can expect my usual sage advice that I find along the trails.

I truly experienced another fulfilling year of being alive. I hope that I can inspire a few adventures with unique memories for yourself and your loved ones. These moments that fill us with life and happiness are meant to be enjoyed. I will seek out more of them this next year and I ask that you try to as well. And so that leads me to thoughts about this next year of 2015. Will I be comparing it to 2014 or other previous years? I’m hoping I don’t have to. I want to simply enjoy the moments I have day by day and continue to do what I love, running far. 

“We must give our children the freedom to test themselves, the faith to chase their dreams and enough trust to let them go.” –Marguerite Kelly

I want to thank my parents and my family for their tremendous support this past year. I truly could not have done so many amazing things this last year without your love and kindness. Thank you.

 

My good friend, the Colorado River