Crossing the Century Mark for 2012

Today, on a bitterly cold morning, I went over the 100-mile mark for the first time this year. It took me 23 runs to get there (I began logging mileage for this year on January 3) but on a farm road southwest of town I crossed the century-mark. It's not like I haven't done that before. I've been recording mileage since 2000 and sometime in the next few months the odometer on my little engine should turn over the 10,000 mile mark. But last year was such a frustrating year running-wise that I have been intent on getting back on track this year. In 2011, it took me until April 9 to reach the century mark (compared to February 16 in 2010). So getting to 100 (actually 104.4) this early is a good indicator that I've hit a new groove.

Me on the Tuscobia Trail in '09

One of the odd things that is on my “bucket list” is to run every public road in Barron County. I don't know what mileage-wise that amounts to (although according to Wikipedia the county has a total area of 890 square miles.) Whether I am able to do that depends a lot on my continued fitness and whether the good people of Refuge continue to retain me long enough for me to accomplish this. At the present time I've got the entire southeastern corner of the county completed and parts of the northeastern corner as well. To those who may ask, “Why?” I reply, “Because.” But really the idea is inspired by the story found in Genesis 13. After Abram (later Abraham) and Lot separate, Yahweh makes a promise to his junior partner to give the land to him as an inheritance. In response, Abram is commanded to make a faith-walk as a promissory note: “Go, walk through the length and breadth of the land, for I am giving it to you” (13:17, NIV.) Several years ago that verse got inside of me and I've made it my intent to run the length and breadth of this land ever since, if only to say there is not a road in our county where a disciple of Jesus has not run. Admittedly, I've got a long way to go.

Mine is something like this

But this morning, in anticipation of crossing the century-mark for the year, I decided to run these miles out on some roads I had not run before. The temperature on the sign at the former Nelson Realty read 1 above at 7:20 a.m. when I left town. The sign at Sterling Bank read 2 above. But a strong head wind from the north bringing in bitterly cold arctic air most certainly made the air temperature somewhere below zero. I drove out on County I heading toward Dallas. When I got to 20^th Street, I turned right and parked the van. After putting my sports belt on containing a bottle of water and a bottle of Gatorade Rain (even on a cold morning like this, I knew I was going to sweat a lot and experience has taught me that it's important to refuel) I threw on my balaclava. This little item is essentially a large sock that covers your whole head and that you can adjust as to what parts of your face you want covered according to weather conditions. On frigidly cold mornings it's a “must use” piece of equipment. I also wore my Saucony gloves that come with an overlay that turn them into mittens and protecting me from frostbite (back in 2008 on a cold, winter morning I got frostbite on my thumb and it hurt like billyo for over a week.) Once geared up, I took off directly into the teeth of that arctic air coming right out of Saskatchewan.

I was running in Amish country not because I saw any out and about (in fact, I was the only human being out on 20^th Street [and 7^th, 18^th and 5^th as well] this morning.) No, it was the frozen horse apples that were copiously strewn intermittently along 20^th Street that gave it away. This neck of the woods in Barron County lying just west of the Red Cedar River is made up of a lot of “rollers”, hills that rise and fall like a roller coaster in the kiddie section of an amusement park. Nothing overly steep but none that do not take some effort to get up. Add in a stiff wind punching you in the face and you got challenge.

Like me except more hair

I'm not a gazelle. I'm not even a broken-down gazelle. I'm more like an overfed Shetland pony (in fact, I ran past an Amish farm on Highway D who had two grazing in the field next to the road; they did not even afford me the respect of a glance) who just clips along at a steady pace. “Slower than molasses in wintertime” I think is how the old saying goes. But I just plodded along taking scheduled breaks for either water or Gatorade along the way. It was a real blessing when I finally reached 18^th Street because that meant that from therein out, that cold wind would be at my back. 18^th Street has a couple good dips in it and as difficult as the climbs were I repeated the oft-spoken running mantra that, “What goes up must come down” as I made my way up them. On 5^th Avenue I ran past a farm I suddenly recognized – it was Kurt & Marilyn's old place, a couple who used to be a part of our fellowship back in the 90s. They lived up here for about a season or two and discovered that they much preferred the weather in Arizona, where they had moved from, from the kind that we are used to and eventually moved back there. I remembered her name right away but it took me until almost 20^th Street before his name came loose from foggy bottom.

Once back on 20^th Street, with the exception of one fairly large hill that I had run down before on my way out, I knew it would be all downhill to the van and with the wind at my back I was half-wishing for a sail. My short legs were moving pretty steadily and I was feeling fairly strong but then a guy in a truck pulled up alongside of me and asked if I was alright. I know he was just being neighborly and had I been dealing with a cramp or something I would have been so grateful for him asking. Maybe he was just checking or maybe my pace looked more like a guy who's really cold and just trying to get back to his van. In any case, I thanked him for his concern and waved him on. A few minutes later I was back at the van. I had recorded 10.8 miles.

As I stated earlier, I'm just really glad that I feel at long last back on track. In 2011 life-interrupted a lot so that I only recorded 421 miles the entire year. Since 2000, an average year for me is more in the area of 575 (although a few years I did record over a 1,000 road miles.) I was inconsistent and I gained about 10 pounds. I'm not making a lot of headway on my weight (my metabolism is way too slow to control it simply by exercise) but with the exception of one day, I have been consistent in my work-out schedule (I run four days a week.) A few weeks ago, on an even colder morning than today, I ran 6.5 miles around 4:30 a.m. Our fellowship was driving up to Lac Coutre Oreilles Reservation to spend a day in the cold cutting wood and so if I was going to get a run in it had to be then before we took off at 6 a.m. Part of the course ran by the Chetek River where hundreds of geese winter. As I ran by them in the pre-dawn dark, one began to honk, and then another and within a hundred paces or more a whole chorus of honkers were going at it. When I told that to one of the guys later he looked at me and said, “Jeff, that's how geese laugh.” Hm, really? Well, I'm glad they enjoyed a good laugh at my expense. A goose's life can be challenging enough.

If it's red its been run

When I got to our building late morning, I got my Barron County map out. It's tradition for me now that following running an “uncharted” road that I indicate on this map with a red marker that it has now been officially ran (by me, that is). Today I was able to color in four roads. I've already got my sights set on a section immediately west of where I ran this morning. Hopefully next Saturday morning I'll get to mark that map again, cold or no cold, wind or no wind. After all, another item on my bucket list is running the Antarctica Marathon so I figure running on a day like today is just giving me a small taste of the harsh conditions I will face should I ever be so fortunate to run there.