Just a Little Further

When I start my run, I am doing well. I mark how far I’ve traveled with stop lights (in Red); Old Concord, the Naval Air Station entrance road, Pat Mell Rd, and Windy Hill Rd (the half way point). Somewhere at that half way point my focus changes. I’m no longer paying attention to how far I’ve traveled; I'm focused on how much further I’ve got to go.

In order to make it back, I set small goals (in Yellow); Rush Truck, Stop Light at Pat Mell Rd, the street my friend lives on, the Naval Air Station entrance road, the dead rat (This was a particularly good goal. Unlike all the other goals, this one you can’t see until your about to step on it. This keeps you very busy looking for the dead rat, because you don’t want to step on it, and keeps your mind off of how tired and crappy you feel.), the big plane outside the Naval Air Station, The German Bakery (the reason I don’t bring a wallet), the Stop Light at Old Concord, the back way back to my house (it takes everything I have, not to turn down this street (sometimes I don’t have anything)), and the last Stop Light at Austell Rd (the end). These small goals makes the return a little more bearable, by breaking it down to “just a little further” sections.

Iron Hill Trail

I had every intention of waking up Saturday, and going for a ride. Alas, the siren song of the couch called to me. I spent most of the day curled up on the couch watching TV, or napping. During one of the watching TV times, I watched the Ironman competition, and the Xterra games (I was getting my exercise through osmosis).

One of the things about the Ironman, Xterra, any Marathon, or even the Tour de France is that they are boring to watch on TV. How exciting is “there is our leader running”, “there is our leader still running”, “there is our leader still running”, and “there is our leader running to the finish” (no wonder I was napping so much). But, what they have done to make it more interesting is to tell stories about the people in the race. The father doing a race with his 13 year old daughter, the 73 year old great grandfather, or the cancer survivor all make you care about the race. It also makes you feel like a pathetic slug for sitting on your couch all day.

Sunday morning, motivated by all the inspirational stories, I went to Red Top Mountain State Park. I had decided to do the Iron Hill Trail; the Iron Hill Trail is a 3.9 mile crushed gravel trail that runs along Lake Altoona. I had decided to make this outing my own little duathlon.

If you have read my blog, you know I ride my bike a couple of times a week (7.5 to 10 miles) at lunch or I run/trail run a couple of times (2.5 to 5 miles) after work. But, I’ve never done both in the same training session. This was adventures for me.



I started out mountain biking the trail. I did this for three laps (just under 12 miles). Mountain biking is a lot different than road cycling; it’s a lot harder, more fun, but a lot harder. By the time I got back to the car I was tired. My knees ached, my legs felt like rubber, and I was cold. This would have been a good time to pack up and go home, but noooo. I had watched the Ironman, and I had to also run the tail. So I changed shoes and shorts and ran (trudged) the same loop that I had just finished riding 3 times.

I don’t know why I thought I had to do this. It didn’t make me an Ironman. Maybe a Tinfoil Man, but definitely not an Ironman.

Outdoorsy

I am an outdoorsy kind of guy. I wasn’t always. I grew up in Brooklyn. The closest I came to the outdoors back then was the tree in front of my house and summers in New Jersey.

I started enjoying the outdoors when I was in the Coast Guard, but that was mostly the beach. I didn’t really become outdoorsy till I moved to Atlanta, which I find funny because I chose Atlanta because it was a real city's city. One with a night life, buildings, museums, and everything else a real city has to offer. Not the outdoors.

I think my current outdoorsyness started many years ago with a 17 ½ inch Brook Trout. My brother-in-law took me trout fishing on the Chattahoochee River and with the catch of my first trout, I became a fan. Although I haven’t been fishing in a while, I have developed a fondness for the creeks and rivers of Georgia.

The second thing that contributed to my outdoorsyness was the adoption of my first dog, Tosi. Tosi and I lived in an apartment and had to walk everyday. This started me walking further and further, till I started hiking. To this day, I still like hiking. I like hiking so much that I became the co-coordinator/leader of the GRRA’s (Golden Retriever Rescue of Atlanta) hiking group, and have stayed even after the passing of Buddy.

The purchase of a mountain bike was the third event that contributed to my outdoorsyness. I hadn’t ridden a bike since I got my drivers license, but mountain biking had reminded me of the joys of childhood. I have not done anything since becoming an adult that reminded me of childlike fun more than mountain biking. Riding down some tight singletrack reminded me of being a kid (even though I never saw any singletrack in Brooklyn). It is exhilaration at its best.

Trail running is my most recent outdoorsy activity. If you run, you can’t beat trail running. You never have to worry about sucking in diesel fumes in the middle of the woods, like you do when running on the street. Even running the same trails over and over, it is more interesting than running on a treadmill (even with a TV).

Next year I think I’m going to take up Kayaking. Because, if your going to do something new, do something outdoorsy.