The Difference Between a Jogger and a Runner

It's been said--and I'm pretty sure that it was by Dr. George Sheehan, the so-called "running philosopher" that I grew up reading as a young runner back in the early 1980s--that the difference between a jogger (a term I despise, by the way) and a runner is an application form.

As in a race application, which separates the sheep from the goats and the "serious" runners from the, well, not so serious.

I just entered the Fire on the Mountain 50K, to be held later this month in western MD on 27 Oct 2013.  I am ashamed to admit this, but this will be my first Ultra in 2013.  Events, calendars, but mostly a lack of motivation have conspired to make this so.

But...having sent in my app (although in today's world, I entered online), I feel strangely liberated, excited, motivated...you pick the adjective.  The words of Goethe come to mind, about whom I blogged here:

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.

Although my training has been fairly low mileage, I have a secret weapon, because I'm an old guy: the advantage of "muscle memory."

That is, I have always had the almost uncanny ability to train little, yet still be able to pull out a decent enough performance on race day.  That's why I call it muscle memory--decades of running have apparently instilled a deep measure of fitness into my body such that I can go long--VERY long--on any particular day without any particular preparation.

That said, I did crank out an easy 10 on Wed (and Friday's post will reflect some meditations about a local cemetery that I routinely stop at) that went quite well.  This weekend or next I will log a 20 miler, and voila!  I will be sufficiently prepared for the 50K.

Such is the beauty of muscle memory.

 

Chasing PRs (Personal Records)

The blog Dependable Renegade is always a good read, full of quirky photos, videos, and stories.

This delightful clip above—which you really should watch in its entirety (it’s only 121 seconds)—makes me think about my first few years of running when success and PRs came often, versus my current experiences. The poor kitty here keeps trying and trying, but the evil owner keeps the feather just out of reach (although the cat still loves the game). See, I’m like the kitty, trying hard and striving mightily towards an elusive goal, but my efforts are largely in vain.

For me, PRs are really a road running phenomenon. Although courses can be quite different, it still is meaningful to compare, say a 10K or marathon time on one course to those times on other courses.

Not so much in the ultra world, where race courses over 50K or 50 miles or 100 miles are so disparate that the only meaningful comparison would be your time on the same course if you’ve run there multiple times. And for me, given the fact that I enter organized events somewhat infrequently, I tend to prefer going to a new venue to see different sites and have a different experience.

It’s kinda tough to admit, but my days of PRs are over. Yet with that admission of aging and slowing comes a huge amount of relief and burden-lifting. I can be childlike again, just running as little, as often, as fast, or as slow as I choose.

For example, as I posted yesterday, I’ve entered the Capon Valley 50K in May, and I did run it 2 years ago. There is, admittedly, a small part of me that wants to better my 2009 time. But there's a bigger part that just wants to link up with another runner of similar pace and just spend the hours and the miles chatting. Or if the mood strikes me, to just run solo and think about as much or as little as I wish.

Capon Valley 50K

(photo credit Capon Valley 50K website)

Although I blog regularly about Ultrarunning, I only enter an event or two per year. The main reason is that I have many commitments in other areas of my life, principally having to do with family, so that investing my effort and $$ in multiple races is just not a priority.

That said, I am excited that I just entered the Capon Valley 50k in Yellow Springs, WV, on 7 May 2011. This is in northeast WV, with the closest bigger town being Winchester, VA, about 25 miles away. 

I entered this race in 2008 but did not run due to my mother's health (she died a week later). A couple weeks after the race, the Race Director, Robin Kane, mailed me the shirt that I would have gotten had I run.

Now, that was real personal service, but I'm pretty sure she had an ulterior motive. After all, the shirt was bought and paid for; all she "lost" was the postage. And somehow I think she knew that I would not and could not wear the shirt unless I ran the race. So it was her way--I think--of guaranteeing that I'd enter in 2009.

And enter I did. This time I did run, notching a 6:30, placing 62 of 127 finishers. And what a course--it was beautiful, and a nice runnable blend of dirt road, jeep trail, and single track. Lots of uphill, but seemingly more downhill, particularly towards the end.  Go figure, because the course is a loop course. Having finished, then I felt entitled to wear both shirts, 2008 and 2009.

One comment on the course: you know how when you're slogging uphill and you're peering ahead, looking for the daylight thru the trees that would indicate that you are approaching the summit? Well, when I ran in 2009, in early May in northern WV, the dogwoods were blooming, and their white flowers pretty closely approximated the color of the sky that day. So when I was looking up and ahead, time after time I mistook the dogwoods for the "daylight thru the trees" effect. So instead of reaching the top, it was only false summit after false summit. After awhile it became a wry joke on myself, so I gave up looking ahead and just trudged until eventually I reached the summit.

I will be heading south with a running buddy, who ran in 2008 when I did not. He's much faster, so essentially we are carpooling and will synch up after the race.

The Capon Valley 50K benefits the Capon Springs Volunteer Fire and Rescue, the Capon Valley Ruritan, and various other local charities. The small local community really gets behind the race, and is just plain fun! So if you are looking for a nice little 50K this spring, this is one fine race.

  

Ultrarunning and $$

Other than seriously overinvesting in running shoes, this sport of Ultrarunning is very affordable.  That is, unless you enter a lot of organized events, as entry fees tend to be high.  Not high in the sense of unreasonably costly--since all those aid stations and logictical support for 12-36 hours of elapsed event time do cost money--but high in the sense of writing a check for $150 or more, just to run a long race in the woods.

But my strategy is to only enter at most a couple of ultra races a year, and enjoy the rest of my ultrarunning as training runs in the backcountry...for free.