Live, Love, and Serve

Red Pine Lake Trail and Lake, Wasatch Mountains, Utah, elevation 9620 feet.

It was a HOT August, Sunday afternoon and the thermometer on my bike was reading 99 degrees. Becky, Jon, and I rode earlier that morning on our bikes to the Belleview Ferry so that I could hitch a ride to Oxford and sail a log canoe race. We had a great race; winning by a good margin in the light air, but I was beat. The two water bottles on my cages were either warm or empty and I needed to ride the 16 miles home to Wittman. Upon entering Royal Oak a sign caught my eye, and then I saw the table with thermoses of water and lemonade sitting in front of the church. I was forever thankful for the cool libations.

The Royal Oak Community United Methodist Church was providing cyclists with free water and lemonade. They had a few business cards in the box, but that was all the literature there was…except the sign that said, “Live, Love, and Serve.” The four words struck me as simply perfect. Live the true meaning of those words and how could life go wrong?

I’m doing well! I’m not 100% recovered from my back, shoulder, or knee injuries, but I’m doing well and still improving. I’m able to do most anything I want, just not to the extent or intensity I once was,.... yet.

I just returned from Utah where I visited with my sister and brother-in-law and shared 5 days of adventure with them. Four of the five days were spent on trails. My sister’s house sits in a nice neighborhood of well groomed lawns with views of the Wasatch Mountains. Their development butts up to a dell with miles of mulched trails for the runner, cyclist, dog walker, or equestrian lover to enjoy. Within a 10 minute drive you can be in Little Cottonwood Canyon at one of many trail heads that lead to mountain lakes, 12,000 foot peaks, mountain meadows, and rocks for climbing. There are many miles of trails that lead to infinity, so it seems. Cyclists are everywhere on the roads and trails. Trail runners were on the mountain trails where we were hiking for the day. It was totally blissful heaven to be in that atmosphere.

I am pretty sure that multi-time winner of the Wasatch 100, Karl Meltzer, passed us on the trail Saturday afternoon. Earlier we crossed paths with Neil Kaersley, a friend of my sister, who is taking part again this year in the Wasatch 100 as a pacer for his brother-in-law, Mark Colby. (The race starts this Friday at 0500.) There was freakin electric on the trails. Neil and my brother-in-law, Jim, both said they see Apollo Ono, the Olympic speed skater, on the trails regularly. I was totally “amped” up there in the mountains. My mind has been spinning on how to figure out how to spend more time out there.

My sister, Judy, and I hiked Antelope Island, which is the largest island in the Great Salt Lake (GSL). Home to buffalo and antelope, we hiked the Frary trail. Judy sent me on to the peak after getting most of the way there, herself. Alone, I forged on to the false summit where I shortly thereafter got off trail and onto an animal trail by mistake. It looked simple enough to get to the summit; just follow the knife edge until I get there. However, after much risky climbing with Jim’s coveted Alaskan hiking stick in one hand and a backpack on my shoulders, a point came where I said to myself, “do not do anything stupid”. The realization that the limit had been reached came when I found myself perched on top of a knife edge with a 1000 foot drop down either side. My legs were straddling what looked like a steep roof peak. It was a beautiful view, but I was not able to go any further on the rocks without climbing ropes and nerve medication.

The knife edge leading to Frary Peak, elevation 6500 feet.

I carefully backtracked, but was unable to “un-climb” some of the areas I climbed up minutes before. Then I saw a hiker several hundred feel below. We screamed to each other, with me gaining the knowledge that I was “off-trail” and that she was “on-trail”. The executive decision was made for me to attempt to climb down to the trail and have another go at reaching the summit. Minutes later I found myself lodged in a chute with nothing below my feet for 40 feet, hanging by my arms (my chest and arm muscles screamed at me for the next 2 days). I was in a spot. Repeat mantra, “do not do anything stupid”.

I dropped Jim’s stick and watched it land 100 feet below me. Now, with more fingers in use, I climbed back out of the steep chute and found another way down. It took me a while to find Jim’s stick. In the process of all this, which included scrambling down rock scree, a microwave oven, sized rock dislodged because of my antics and crashed down the mountain. I could hear it smashing everything in its path as it rolled down the mountain for the next 2.5 minutes. It was so loud that I prayed my sister couldn’t hear it, for fear she would think it was me.

I eventually reached the summit and called Jim who was in his office. I told him I was “okay” and that I had Judy’s cell and I had reached Frary Peak (it had taken longer than anticipated). Then the voice in my head said, “dance naked on the summit”, so I did (the sole hiker on the trail was 2 miles back; I was alone). Crazy, I know, but maybe it was the altitude’s thin air at 6500 feet.

Later, that same day, Judy and I waded from the beach into the Great Salt Lake. I floated unbelieveably high, just like everyone ever told me. Instead of floating up and down like in a pool, I was able to have head, hands. feet, knees, and stomach out of the water while laying on my back. The GSL is much saltier than the ocean. It is all that remains of the ancient inland sea of Lake Bonneville.

Me floating in the Great Salt Lake

There is so much to tell. Being with Judy and Jim was awesome; adventure during the day, good meals and games at night, plenty of sleep, and a ton of laughs. It was a great break from my wonderful, yet busy, life in Maryland.

With Judy and Jim on the Red Pine Lake Trail, Little Cottonwood Canyon, Wasatch Mountains, Utah.

Monday morning Jim woke me early and said we’d hike to White Pine Lake at 10,000 feet plus. By 10:30 we were 5.5 miles up the trail at the lake looking at mountain goats on the nearby mountain meadow, which was straight up and down. There was ice in places and a vein of snow left over from winter. The trail was spectacular; full of vistas even an artist couldn’t render. Half way back down the trail we saw Neil again and we chatted. The trails were empty considering the number of cars in the parking lot. Shortly after we saw Neil we came upon a bull moose. We were 30 feet from him. He was really cool to watch and photo; a good sport, I’d say.

The moose on White Pine Lake Trail

By day 5 of my trip my legs had adapted well to the ups and downs of the trails and my lungs had adapted well to the altitude. Sunday, Jim lent me his mountain bike and I rode the dell until my heart was pounding out of my chest. It has been a long time since my heart rate was up that high. During adventures, I hiked in my trail shoes, but wore my new Sport Trek Vibram Fivefingers on the plane both ways, and all the time off the trails. They were too new to my feet to risk wearing them on the trail. Upon my return to Wittman, however, I ran 2.25 miles on Wednesday in them with success. I plan on running the Gunston 5K in fivefingers.

I could go on, but I won’t. Good to have some trail-tales this time. My new mantra is now, “Live, Love, and Serve” ~ Michael

Where to Begin?

Lake Koocanusa near the family cabin in Rexford, Montana.

This can only begin with an apology for not posting anything to the Runners On Trails blog site for nearly half a year. Last you heard from me I was jumping into the freezing ice-choked waters of Town Creek, Oxford. So much has happened in these past months, but very little has to do with running on trails. These legs haven’t been on a run in over three months, and it may be longer than that until I can run again.

On April fourteenth I seriously hurt my back. I spent the better part of 6 weeks on my back for 20 hours a day. My family drove me to appointments, lacrosse games, and graduations while I laid flat in the back of Julius (nearing his 240,000^th mile). Gradually, the amount of time “up” on my feet or sitting has increased, but I am still in sciatic pain daily, yet, getting better daily. It has been an excruciatingly slow recovery.

Now, my adventuring includes core/back exercises every morning, physical therapy twice a week, swimming lightly twice a week, and cycling slowly, increasing my time by two minutes a day. The doctor told me I do not need surgery, that I tore a disc, that I have three discs that are showing normal signs of age and deterioration, and that I should probably never take up running again. If that last comment caught your eye, what do you think it has done to me?

Every aspect of my life has been affected by the back injury. Nothing is the same, and though I am told by several professionals in the field that I will make a complete recovery, it is hard to imagine being the same again.

My family and friends have been hugely wonderful to me. It is difficult for me to rely on people to “do” for me. I do not know how I would be making it through this bout without my wife, Carita. She has been an angel in more ways than one.

Where does all this leave the blog? Let’s just get on with things from the trail. In my next post, I hope to write about my last run in Montana in early April…during a snow storm. Appreciate what is in front of you ~

A Simple Run

The plunge-escape of the 2nd Annual Stupidathon. This is Town Creek, Oxford on a mid-January Saturday afternoon. Hmm?

About a week after the preceding blog entry was written I was scheduled for knee surgery. It was December, the holidays were coming, and my knee was not improving since re-injuring it during the April running of the Delaware Triple Crown. Since, all one does around the holidays is sit, eat, and socialize, I thought it the perfect time to try and heal my knee.

It now has been six weeks since Dr. Rick Mason put two holes in the front of my knee, cleaned away my torn meniscus, and cleaned away “moderate” arthritic growth from under my knee cap on my right knee. Since I was fourteen, I had never gone six weeks without running. This really hit home on Monday.

I had epoxied myself out of the shop by 4:15, and the mood struck me to try running as I walked to the house in the warmish still air of that January afternoon. The headcold that had held me captive for a week still lingered, but, “damnit” I was going to try to run; it had been long enough. This run needed to be private, however; seen by no one. I’m not sure why this was, nor why tears gushed out of my eyes while driving Phinn and me to Rabbit Point so we could work all this out. Perhaps the answer lies in an answer to another question, “why DO we run?” The weight of all those reasons why I love to run; why I must run is tremendous. That weight had brought me to this moment.

With the truck parked by the gate at Rabbit Point, I set my goal of running to a fork in the lane a couple hundred yards away. This was it; a defining moment. I wanted to run really BAD. It was awkward and a little painful, but I did it. It felt like I did not know how to run, at all. Small strides (all my running buds know how long my stride is) with a great deal of thought got me there. Another goal was set and made, then a longer one; set and met. In the end my new-feeling knee carried me just under 2 miles. Near the end my old stride was making guest appearances, but I also felt the use of my core, which might be more integrated into my new running style; we’ll see.

Phinn licked me as did my stretching at the bench on the point. We ran back to the truck feeling like running was going to be a part of our lives once again. At Dr. Mason’s the following morning, he officially released me from his care and instructed me to continue running twice a week for a while, increasing my distance by half a mile each week until I reached a comfortable distance.

Folks, I’ve run the past 2500 miles with knee pain of some level or another. The thought of running without that pain absolutely sends my spirits soaring. I’m not there, yet, but the possibility now exists. Patience and prayer will get me there.

What about my shoulder? On September 4^th I had surgery on my left shoulder. Some of the professionals that have worked with me over the months believe I am stronger and am showing progress with my nerve palsy. I am still hopeful of a full recovery, but only time will tell. My swimming is going well. I swam a personal best on last Sunday in Annapolis in the 50 yard free leg of a relay. The most enjoyment I have are with doing the custom workouts created for me by the Galans. More than speed, I am concentrating on holding form in my strokes as I tire by adding distance.

The Stupidathon crew: Mike V, Shaun, Dominic, Jeff, Brennan, Joel, Lori, Andrew, Wood Frog (in Shaun's cape), Lando, and Bickford. Missing are Brian and Megan.

On a not-so-smart, yet, very fun note, thirteen of us participated in the 2^nd annual Stupidathon on Saturday, January 16^th. The course was from Dominic’s home on Needwood Avenue in Easton to Oxford via bikes, then run from Hinkley (Crocket Brother’s BY) to Bachelor’s Point via the Strand and return. At this point there was no open water shoreside in Talbot County. Bickford had to chop a hole in the ice for us to use. The water was frigid, though I think I won the “least amount of time in the water award”. Several of us, including yours truly, went for multiple plunges. Perhaps this is why I’ve had my worse cold in 15 years.

There is so much I want to look forward to this year, but, at this point I am not planning on any events. I want to be able to swim, ride, run, love, and appreciate all that life has to offer first. If life throws in a few competitions, then I’ll have at it. Happy New Year, everyone. ~ Michael

Swimming in the Snow

The 2009 TCY Master's Swim Team photo taken Saturday, December 5, 2009.

There hasn’t been much running on these legs for the past week, yet, my legs have been getting much use in the pool. Perhaps we should change the name of my blog; but to what? Any suggestions?

Saturday was an awesome day at the Talbot YMCA. Mid-afternoon found me “cooling” down in the “warm” pool, hanging with friends, and watching the beautiful snowy scene out the window. The Talbot County YMCA (TCY) Masters Swim Team hosted our semi-annual Swim Competition and Chili Cook-off. We had a record 26 swimmers register from our own team and nearly 100 swimmers from all over the state. With 4 scheduled practices each week and the fact that we all live adult lives, it is rare that we ever get more than twelve of us together at any one time.

I had one of those “moments” before the meet began where I experienced pure happiness. It was when we had our team warm-up in the pool before the guests arrived. There was some music playing on the stereo which added to the mood and someone (I believe it was Lisa) said aloud what I was feeling; something to the effect that, “how cool it is to have everyone together for this afternoon. That it is wonderful to have a day where we come together as a group to push our limits and show our stuff after all the hard work, early mornings, long workouts, chlorinated hair, water filled goggles, pool water lung-rinses, and missed flip-turns”. As an adult there are few sports like swimming where you see the full range of 18 to 80+ year olds; where we all compete, no matter the age, level of competence, or physical restriction. I could loudly hear my team cheering for me as I swam the 200 breaststroke event. Though I know I can do better in the future, that swim was fun, especially with the voices of support ringing through my swimcap into my ears. Saturday with my team was one of those magical days I’ll remember as being special.

Oh, yeah, the swimming: the results can be seen here. I swam in 3 individual events and 2 relay events. I bested my competition 200 breaststroke time by nearly 10 seconds ( my aim is to best it by 10 more before spring). And, I swam my second fastest 50 yard freestyle, ever! The more I go to the meets and watch other swimmers, the more I know what I want and how I want to swim. I see where I want to go. With the continued help of the Galan Family and my TCY team I know I will improve.

The shoulder: I’m back to pre-surgery condition, maybe a little better overall. My palsy still persists in my left shoulder, but doesn’t affect my swimming strokes. However, if I don’t bring my hands together strongly during a dive off the blocks and will sometimes wrap my left arm around my chest because I’m not strong enough in that outer rotation to resist the rush of water as I enter. Other than that, things are good.

My goal is to be able to swim more than a mile in open water at an energy efficient pace of 30 minutes per mile or under, without be stressed. My kick is the key. And, to get a stronger kick in need to strengthen my core. I am attacking my core these days. Wish me luck. Propeller legs rule. Love and appreciate life ~ Michael