Finally, An Adventure Run!

These past few months I've not spent much time in the backcountry.  In fact, if I'm being honest with myself, I've kinda been afraid.

See, my age begins with a 6 and it's two digits.  Until not all that long ago, I would happily head out into the backcountry for a trail run, leaving behind only the sketchiest of directions as to my timing and whereabouts.

I've gotten much better about that of late, as it has finally dawned upon me that my peers and contemporaries are keeling over with uncomfortable regularity, and that I myself--despite the good health that I currently enjoy--am not immune to two laws (the law of averages and the law of cause and effect).

So, truth be told, I've done my recent trail running with a buddy or not at all.

Until Sunday.

On our way to visit the in-laws, I had the bride drop me off several miles from our destination, in the middle of Clark's Valley, PA.  I had given her very specific instructions as to my route and timing.  Leaving the car, I immediately bushwhacked up a power line straight up the side of a mountain, to gain the ridge top, a 1200' breath-taking endeavor. The western U.S. runner who famously once said, "These eastern mountains are SO cute!" would have been sucking air on this climb, big time!

Once on top, I see what looks to be a rocket ship and snap this photo:

I knew in advance that it was actually an unmanned FAA radar beacon.  In today's day and age, as I took the picture I thought it was quite likely that I was on a surveillance camera myself, and might get hassled for taking pictures of government infrastructure, as if I were a terrorist rather than a simple Ultrarunner.

So...after the off-road stretch and a section of gated dirt road, I reached "civilization," meaning a dirt road that was open to the public and which I had identified to the bride as being my route.  I then enjoyed the several mile gradual downhill that was the payback and reward for the initial climb.

Quickly enough the run was over, I had survived being alone, and felt elated for finally doing another "adventure run."

Adventure Quotient...and Ultrarunning

For lack of a better term, I've invented "Adventure Quotient."  Perhaps it's already been invented; I don't know.  Sometimes is hard as you get older to attribute ideas to brand new thoughts, versus "I must have read somewhere...."

At any rate, by Adventure Quotient I'm describing the notion of being up for new challenges, willingness to press the limits, being open to testing oneself.  In other words, the willingness to go to the edge.

For me, going to the edge and seeing what's there--physically and mentally--has always been the allure of this sport.

I've previously posted about the edge--which is a real space--here, saying:

This post is simply a plug for using the vehicle of a race to go to a place deep within yourself, a place on the edge where the vast mass of humanity never goes, and sadly, never even suspects is there. And so the measure of success in a race is not necessarily the time showing on the clock, or the distance run, the position placed, the medals, the ribbons, the certificates, or the camaraderie, fine as all those things may be. 

No, the true measure of success in a race is whether you did your best, and in giving your best, did you somehow approach that edge?  Did you flirt with that shadowy realm of total intensity, where vicariousness was abandoned for immersion?  Did you somehow sense that survival is not merely an abstract concept rendered quaintly obsolete by the veneer of civilization?

Anyway...back to my Adventure Quotient concept: if the edge is a place, then your Adventure Quotient is your willingness to try to go there.  And I see as I've gotten older that my willingness to put myself out there has dwindled.  Maybe it's not quite gone, but increasingly when offered the opportunity for a challenge, I tend to pass: it's too early, too far, we'd get back too late, I'm undertrained.

I guess I feel a bit wistful when I think about it, a kind of bittersweet feeling, realizing that I've figuratively passed the torch on to the next generation of Ultrarunners.  A man (or a woman) has got to know his/her limitations.

But...although my Adventure Quotient is low, it's not entirely vanished.  So I'm increasingly thinking of my adventures being on a smaller scale, but still adventures nonetheless.

So while I can no longer run like a 30-year-old, I certainly can run as a 63-year-old.  After all, intensity and adventure are relative....