running

Sunday Confessional: The today-I-parched-my-dog edition

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

I went out on the trails with Emma today. It was sunny and warm (probably about 80 degrees), there was substantial elevation gain, and we ran when we could.

Another pertinent fact? I didn’t bring water.

When we got off the trail and back on the street, we’d gone about 2.75 miles and Emma’s tongue was hanging out. We walked about 150 yards and then hit a patch of shade. She flopped onto her belly, legs splayed behind her, and panted. I let her stay down there while I stretched, and then got her going again. Several patches of shade later, she did the same thing. Belly flopped.

So I picked her up and carried her.

We passed some guy who asked, “Isn’t she supposed to be walking?” Nope. It was totally my bad. I overexerted my short-legged dog in the heat AND neglected to bring water. Two belly flops from her meant the rest of the way home was on me.

So I carried the 25-pound dog the last half-mile. For the record, she completely enjoyed the ride, looking around from her new vantage point.

She’s still a bit tuckered, though. While she rested, I dug my water pack out of the closet to use on our next outing.

 

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Happy Windsday, Piglet

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Zippy and I just went for a run.
It is very blowy out there.
Ugh.
winnie-the-pooh-and-the-blustery-day-winnie-the-pooh

It wasn’t quite that bad.
I mean, neither of us went airborne.
But that’s only because we’re not chubby little cubbies all stuffed with fluff.

Otherwise . . . WHOOOOOSH.
Trust me.

 

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Thankful Thursday: The sunshine edition

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

weather-station

This is Zippy’s indoor weather station. As you can see, it’s sunny and 65 degrees outside. Granted, the outdoor thermometer is in direct sunlight right now so it’s really only 65 degrees against the bricks on the south side of the house. But still. Sixty-five degrees in January!

I’m going out for a run around the neighborhood and am looking forward to cruising past the snow piles lingering from last weekend’s storm.

Gotta love Colorado and its split-weather-personality.

 

 

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Pity party interruptus

/ Tracy Abell

Last week I was in Florida and while there, I went running for the first time in a month. As a result of all those weeks off, I ran slower than usual.

When I hit the 3-mile mark, I stopped running and began my cool-down walk. Almost immediately my brain started beating me up: you’re used to running at elevation and this was running at sea level! You’re used to running up and down hills, and this was running on mostly flat! You’re slow, slow slow. Old, old, old. Sad, sad, sad.

As I walked on the path through the woods, I regretted the health issues that had prevented me running. I regretted losing the fitness level I’d worked hard to achieve. I regretted my loss of muscle, stamina, and lung power.

I admit to feeling a wee bit defeated.

Then there was a WHOOSH and SQUAWK as something dropped from the tree above and landed next to my feet: Two woodpeckers, one on the back of the other, briefly wrestled on the path before separating and flying off to different trees.

And just like that, my mood lifted. I realized I was going to be all right. I knew I’d regain my strength, just as I knew that it was a gift to be able to up and run three miles after time off. How could I not know?! I’d just witnessed the miracle of wrestling woodpeckers!!!

Sometimes the universe gets sick of our whining and drops a big ol’ SNAP OUT OF IT sign in front of us.

woodywoodpecker

I’m grateful I could see past the pity party to read it.

 

 

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Neighborhood steeplechase

/ Tracy Abell

I’ve been having some health issues so took three weeks off from running. During that time I did a lot of speedwalking around the neighborhood and while it got my heart pumping, I felt wistful whenever people ran past me. I need to run.

So it was a big HOORAY on Monday when Zippy and I did a short run around the neighborhood! We timed today’s run to end just minutes before the Olympics men’s final 3000m steeplechase and in preparation for watching that race, I spent my run scanning for potential hurdles and water jumps. There was a little runoff in one of the streets and I’m pleased to report that I cleared that water no problem!

This image from the 2015 African Youth Championships. (Clyde Koa Wing)

This image from the 2015 African Youth Championships. (Clyde Koa Wing)

We finished our run and watched the men’s final, cheering on all the athletes. Evan Jager from (one of) my alma mater, UW-Madison, won silver today. A few days ago we saw Emma Coburn from Zebu’s alma mater (UC-Boulder) win bronze. Such inspirational races.

Maybe I should start hurdling the boulders next to the trails!

 

 

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Bras for Dummies

/ Tracy Abell

I’ll be brief.

  1. Are you a female runner? Yes? Invest in a good sports bra.
  2. Make sure it fits correctly. (There’s lots of good info on the intertubes re proper fit)
  3. Replace said bra more regularly than, say, every 12 years or so.
  4. Own a bra, any bra, that’s too snug? Save yourself $10 bucks and make your own extender using hooks from an old bra.
  5. Watch this video for instructions:

    6. You’re welcome.

 

 

Sharing the Trail

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

I just got back from a run on the trails.
This sign is at the trailhead:
CoyoteCountry sign

I knew I wouldn’t be lucky enough to see coyotes because I didn’t get out there until about 8:00 when they’d already be on people-alert. I did, however, see and hear many birds. Western meadowlarks, orioles, and magpies. I also saw a friend and her dog.

A few minutes after passing my friend, I was on a downhill. Running “fast.” And I heard a LOUD hissing, rattling sound off to the left of the trail. 

I startled, kind of screamed, did a little side-hop, and kept running. But it wasn’t until I’d taken a bunch more steps that my brain made the connection: rattlesnake. And then my first thought was:

How many times before I hear that sound
 and know it’s a snake,
and NOT lawn sprinklers turning on?

IMG_9421

In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous. ~ Aristotle

Can’t Say I’m Sorry to See You Go

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

We’re in the last few hours of 2015, one of the most difficult years of my life.
But not only am I still standing, I’m still running.
Despite the frigid temperatures (about 30 degrees in the sun),
Zippy and I went for a run around the neighborhood.
Cold yet life-affirming.

And now a friend is coming over to hoop with me.
That will be a warmer yet also life-affirming activity.

This morning some of my favorite kinds of birds showed up

Crows and Magpie 012

Crows and Magpie 019

A lovely way to say close out 2015.
Wishing everyone a Happy New Year and a glorious, life-affirming 2016!

Crows and Magpie 020

 

Running Fashionista

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Zippy and I went for a run this morning and it wasn’t until our cool-down walk that I noticed this:
Spit trail

A spit trail down my thigh. Apparently the wind caught my saliva rocket and returned it to me.

When I got home and started my stretches, I realized I’m basically an all-around rag-tag runner gal wearing holey socks and a ripped 20+-year-old polypro long underwear shirt:
Running socks   Torn polypro sleeve

I do, however, have a fairly new Garmin watch in fashionista chartreuse:
Garmin watch

Look for me on the nearest runway. I’ll be the one rockin’ the groovy watch and sweat-stained togs. I promise not to spit.

Writing, Running, & Ruminating

/ Tracy Abell

Yesterday I sent off the manuscript for the first book of mine that will be published. It’s a short work-for-hire book about composting and how to build a compost tumbler. (One of my critique partners (yo, LP!) is a nonfiction goddess who guided me every step of the way as I applied to the editorial company. Thank you, friend!)

One of the hardest parts of that writing process was switching from my fiction brain to my nonfiction brain. Plus there was the research that triggered my ADD tendencies, writing to a lower reading level, explaining complex concepts in a simplified format, footnoting and formatting, glossary terms and pronunciation keys . . . Suffice to say there was a steep learning curve and a few tears of frustration.

learning curve back and forth

But I put my head down to push through the doubts and nasty voices, and I prevailed. Plus, I (mostly) kept to my promise to myself and worked on my middle-grade novel revisions every day. I learned to bounce from fiction to nonfiction and back again. And it felt like a real accomplishment to hit SEND when I emailed my manuscript yesterday.

This morning Zippy and I went out for our run on the trails. As we took off, I mentioned how I wished we could take a different route out there in the open space. I love the trails and they’re kinder to my body than pavement as I pound out the miles, but lately I’ve noticed my mind wanders when I run. And my mind shouldn’t wander when there are rocks and knapweed and eroded trail segments to navigate. But it wanders because I’m comfortable with my route; I’ve run it so often I can close my eyes and visualize exactly where the rabbit brush stalk sticks out onto the trail and how far up the trail past the turn-off it is that I need to side-step a cluster of partially submerged rocks.

So today Zippy took the lead and he mixed it up. He took us on side trails and detours, but the biggest change was we ran parts of the route in reverse. Which meant I was running downhill where I’m usually straining to run uphill, and struggling up the steep inclines where I’m used to flying down the trail.

TrulyErgonomic_LearningCurve

Talk about a learning curve. I thought my brain was going to explode! (Not to mention the other very real concern that I was about to barf up a lung).

Well, I eventually made it home and recovered enough to have today’s deep thought:

It’s good to step outside my comfort zone because doing so allows me to learn new skills and expand my muscles (whether brain or brawn). Becoming more flexible ain’t always pretty, but it’s necessary.

Friday Five: The Random Edition

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

(1) I used to be kinda indifferent about Led Zeppelin, but for the past couple months have been mainlining it at a LOUD volume.

(2) I’m still having to run back and forth on the one flat street in my neighborhood due to glute issues and yesterday did three miles with the help of Sly & the Family Stone.

(3) I’ve started working part time as a substitute library page which means I shelve books at various local libraries, and have developed a love-hate relationship with the Dewey Decimal System.

(4) I’m revising a manuscript and enjoying the process which I call a WIN.

(5) If this rain doesn’t let up soon, I’m gonna scream loud enough to be heard over the Led Zeppelin.
screaming-quotes-1

Don’t Let the Door Hit You On the Way Out

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

I tend to withdraw when things get rough, which explains why this has probably been the year I’ve blogged least frequently. 2014 has been a non-stop year of challenges for me and the people closest to me (and a whole lot of people I only know via the news). More than once I’ve threatened to stab 2014 between the eyes. And way more than that, I’ve screamed at 2014 to go fuck itself.

Did 2014 care? Not in the least. Were my threats of violence and profanity healthy responses to a year that closed out by kicking my family squarely in the ‘nads? I’d say that’s an affirmative, but your mileage may vary.

Looking back on the past year, I’m struck by how I kept expecting things to improve. Starting in January with my glute/hip/lower back issues that kept me from running and lifting weights and yoga and hooping and all the other stuff that helps keep me sane, I was positive that in the next week or so I’d regain my physical self and, therefore, also my emotional equilibrium. But it never happened, at least, not 100 percent. However, the shit kept coming and I had to make-do with what my body could handle. And when that wasn’t enough to raise my endorphin levels, my thoughts turned stabby. So maybe that’s why I’m feeling especially worn down right now: in hindsight, that optimism feels so naive and pathetic. I didn’t get all better and it never got easier.

Which is why I’m torn about welcoming a new year. This last one sucked sucked sucked and the next might, too. On the other hand, 2015 is still shiny and full of hope and no one’s had a chance yet to stab it between the eyes. I’d call dibs, but maybe me and mine will catch a break this time around and there won’t be any need.

Happy New Year.
fitnessjog

What I Saw While Running to Nowhere

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

When I woke up this morning it was cold and wet, the streets covered in an icy, slushy mess. My plan had been to run outside, but the moisture plus 40 degree temperature convinced me to have a “boring” run on the treadmill.

HA! It was anything but boring. And no, I didn’t fall overboard or go flying off the back.

My treadmill looks out onto my backyard that is planted with native shrubs and covered in mulch. There are bird feeders and bath, squirrel nut munch, and an ear of corn that yesterday I harvested from the volunteer corn stalk growing against the house. In the 35 minutes I was on the treadmill, going nowhere fast(ish), I saw:

  • a flock of European Starlings swooping up and away from the wild plum bush growing behind the fence, only to return and line up on the fence in front of me
  • oodles of House Finches exploring the leaves and mulch
  • a Goldfinch moving from sunflower to sunflower, in search of seeds
  • a Black-billed Magpie alighting on the fence and allowing me two whole seconds to admire its gorgeous plumage
  • Mourning Doves and Eurasian-collared Doves, wings spread wide as they descended in the yard
  • a whole slew of Dark-eyed Juncos acting like bullies on a playground
  • a male Northern Flicker that popped up from behind the fence with his dapper ‘tude
  • a squirrel and a Western Scrub Jay working to extract kernels from the corn cob (although not at the same time)

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have seen a fraction of this activity on the street, so I wanted to document this treadmill workout for later in the season when I’m longing to be outside. I need to remember that, sometimes, running in place is where it’s at.

View from my treadmill.

View from my treadmill.

Running Sly, Running Free

/ Tracy Abell

I didn’t used to listen to music while running because I didn’t like how the earbuds force-fed my brain the music. The sound felt too close and too loud. Too much.

Then in January I began what turned out to be six months of PT that, for most of that time, kept me from running. And then once I could start running again, I ran on the one “flat” street in my entire neighborhood, the same street I’d walked twice a day for the past six months. Up and back and up and back and oh-my-goddess-am-I-really-traveling-this-same-stretch-of-street-AGAIN?

So I started listening to music while I ran. Fortunately, it didn’t feel as close and loud as before, probably because I knew the music was the only thing that could keep me motivated.

This morning it was Sly & the Family Stone. Even while slogging up a half-mile hill (today was my first day all year that I attempted running from the bottom of my neighborhood to the top!), I had a big ol’ smile on my face. That’s pretty damned impressive.

Sly & Family Stone album cover

If you don’t own any Sly Stone, I highly recommend it. Smiles at no additional charge.

Updates: Reading, Writing & Running

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

READING: After giving up on The Portrait of a Lady, I went back to my shelves and selected Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser. I’m happy to report I read the entire novel and, when I was able to push aside my prejudice against authors who explain-explain-explain their characters’ emotional landscapes, found myself pulled into the story. Hooray!

However, I then started another book (this one published in 1998) and read 90 pages 2515913-lbefore I’d had enough. I absolutely loved this author’s debut novel, but now wonder if it was equally bad and that I didn’t realize it because I wasn’t reading as critically at that point in my writing life. The one I quit today is nearly 900 pages (!) and narrated by someone I find unlikable and whose dialogue is not-at-all believable. Reading it made me angry on several levels (for one, knowing many trees died for this New York Times bestselling book), and when I get angry at the writing, it’s time to look for another book.


WRITING: I’m plugging away at my YA and have, at least momentarily, quit beating myself up for working at such a slow pace. SONY DSCI’m essentially now writing the first draft because these later scenes are all new to the story, but because I’m being thoughtful and deliberate in my writing I’m confident I’m not driving the story into the ditch (or cornfield).
Also? Thoughtful + deliberate = doesn’t read like a first draft.

 

RUNNING: Per my PT/rehab instructions, I’m easing back into my running. The rules are (1) that runs must always have at least one day in between and (2) I can add 5 minutes to the run after having at least two solidly good runs at the previous time length. “Good runs” translates to reasonable pain (that can be addressed via stretching, massage, rest) and feeling halfway decent energy-wise. For my last three runs, I ran for 35 minutes each time. This whole thing has been such an adjustment for me, not just physically but also psychologically. I’m learning to cut myself some slack, to celebrate the gains and to not beat myself up when I don’t perform as well as the previous run. The key word here is “learning.” This is all very much a work in progress. Zippy encouraged me to run a 5k with him this past weekend, but because I knew I wouldn’t run nearly as well as I had last year, I declined.

Running hard as I can, but not yet flying . . .

Running hard as I can, but not yet flying . . .

I Am Not My Brain (and Other Insights)

/ Tracy Abell / 8 Comments

Three weeks ago today I wrote about going on my first run in a long, long time.
Today I am writing about not being able to run. Again.

When I received the go-ahead from my PT dude to ease back into running, I ran a total of four times. The first two runs were completely pain-free. During the third and fourth runs, my left Achilles tendon was sore. Not excruciatingly sore, but it did hurt. I backed off, but I should’ve backed off sooner.

Shoulda-woulda-coulda.

I’m now on forced rest and cannot even take walks because that’s enough to fire up
the ol’ tendon. Joy in the land. Last week during my PT appointment I was so discouraged
by what felt like a never-ending cycle of injury jumping from one body part to another, that I smacked my kind PT dude in frustration.

Yesterday I had another appointment, and I started with an apology. I then explained that while my tendon was still giving me trouble, I had a better attitude.

What happened? YOU ARE NOT YOUR BRAIN happened.

You Are Not Your Brain cover image

YOU ARE NOT YOUR BRAIN is a book that’s helped me recognize the false messages my brain sends me, messages I’ve internalized over the years until they were hard-wired in my circuitry. The book is helping me rewire my brain so I’m not held hostage by that nasty voice. Basically, YOU ARE NOT YOUR BRAIN is a highly readable how-to on neuroplasticity. (Say it with me, people: neuroplasticity!)

Testimonial: Monday afternoon I lifted weights (an activity I’m easing back into) and as I stood in front of the full-length mirror that helps me maintain good form while lifting, I felt a wave of all sorts of yucky thoughts and feelings around the fact that I’m weak and now must lift much lighter weights and have put on some pounds and don’t look so hot in my workout togs. The thought of starting over to get back to my strong and fit self felt like too much; I felt ugly and weak and worthless and overwhelmed by the entire situation.

And then I reined myself in and talked to my brain. I followed the steps and began the process of rewiring my brain by lifting weights while maintaining eye contact in the mirror. I didn’t look anywhere but in my eyes, because that’s where my true self was evident. Not in my waist or thighs or arms. My eyes. I smiled into my blue peepers and lifted those weights, knowing that by taking action I was drowning out that voice and making it harder for it to reappear. It will come back, it always does, but each time I take positive action while that voice yammers at me, the voice loses power over me.

Tracy taped tendonIn the meanwhile, I’m rocking the RockTape and trying to focus on how far I’ve come. I won’t be running the Bolder Boulder next month and am still royally frustrated with my limitations, but I’m trying hard not to take those personally.

One step at a time.

 

 

Running Wild, Running Free

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

The last time I went for a run was 81 days ago. Today, with the full blessing of my physical therapist, I ran again.

It’s been a hard bunch of months around here as I went from being someone who did yoga almost every morning plus ran a couple times per week plus lifted weights three times per week plus sneaking in a hooping session or two, to a woman who couldn’t do much of anything.

How did that happen? It was the strangest thing but apparently my old gluteal muscle aka left butt cheek issue didn’t like how I ignored it and let it get tighter and tighter, and so triggered other tight points in my body which culminated in my back getting so tight and painful that it hurt to move. I literally went from being able to put my palms flat on the floor to the next day not being able to reach much past my knees. It was bizarre.

Depression ensued. As did loss of muscle and weight gain. Many tears were shed as I wallowed in what I was afraid would be a permanent condition. I went on my first job interview in about twenty years (with the hope I’d be better by the time the job started) and was hired to work at the library, but ended up having to tell them I couldn’t take the position due to my physical limitations. I never, ever would’ve guessed I’d have to turn down a job for that reason, and it was humbling.

But my physical therapist and I persevered, and then I started getting massages from a genius therapist who focused on trigger points which then allowed me to do more of the stretching and strengthening exercises without pain. We saw light at the end of the tunnel.

Today I came out of that tunnel. I walked for ten minutes then ran (slowly) for fifteen minutes then walked another ten, ran another fifteen, and walked ten more minutes for a whopping total of 60 minutes of exercise! All I’ve done over the last several months was walk for about thirty minutes at a time, and when I walked home this afternoon I wept tears of gratitude and happiness and oh-my-goddess-I’ve-missed-running-so-very-much-tears.

I’d left a note for Zebu letting him know when I took off and when to expect me home, asking him to drive up the street to find me if I hadn’t returned by then. Just as I walked into the driveway, the garage door went up. There was my son, the one who’s been so sad on my behalf as I struggled to regain my mobility, getting ready to come haul his sad mama home. He smiled when he saw me there and his smile got bigger when I told him I felt great.

Here I am, fresh out of the shower, so very happy to be back:Tracy after run on April 9 2014 (for blog post)

 

Getting a Grip on the Trail

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

I just got back from my first run wearing my new trail shoes. My new FREE trail shoes that I won for being the Overall Female Champion last month. I’ve never worn trail shoes before, and while out there today experienced one of those “why didn’t I do this sooner?” moments. These new shoes gave me better traction and helped me get up the hills faster. I love me some faster.

I felt so good when I got home I wanted to document the maiden voyage.Tracy's new trail shoes 001

Tracy's new trail shoes 020Pretty spiffy, huh?

And the best part is, I now run so fast I’m a blur . . .Trail shoes in motion 034

A funny thing happened on the way to the finish line…

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Our local high school holds a 5k fundraising run in August, orchestrated by the cross country coach and team. We started running it the year Wildebeest ran cross country. It’s a tough course with some downhill early on and then the ups and downs that follow the neighborhood topography before a brutal uphill starting on the street and then over rocks and grass to finish up on the soccer field. It’s the kind of finish you don’t want anyone seeing you complete because you’re sure a lung will pop out of your chest or that you’re moving so slowly spectators will think you’re frozen in time.

I don’t like that kind of humiliation so last summer I trained on that last half-mile a bunch of times, pushing up the hill as hard as I could then jogging down before doing it again. I felt confident I’d finish strong when I ran that course in August. Except I ended up not being able to run because my mom needed assistance out of town. Oy.

So today was my third time running the course. I’ve been running consistently all summer but never went back to work that hill again. I regretted that. Today, after running two strong miles, I began to fade on the third. By the time I hit that last bit, I was whupped. And after looking at my watch and seeing the slow time, I decided “What the hell, I’m walking.” One of the other school’s cross country coaches** was there to cheer on his kids and when he saw me walking, ran up alongside me, exhorting me to run again. Which I did. Until he dropped off and then I walked again. Until he came up next to me again and got me running some more. Until he dropped back.

I think I walked two or three times in that race, something I NEVER do. And when I crossed the finish line I thought two things: Glad that race is over! AND The only thing that will redeem this race is if I win one of the raffle prizes.

Fast forward to the raffle portion of the post-race festivities when the cross country coach announced the top male and female racers in the Citizen category (Citizens are anyone over 18 years). The cross country coach announced my name and after a stunned moment, I walked to the front and said, “There’s no way. This was my slowest time on this course.”*** I convinced the officials they’d made a mistake and went back to my place in the crowd while they checked data again. But a few minutes later, the coach was next to me. “Can you come look at this? I think you’re our top female finisher.”

And I was.Tracy's Ram Run trophy 002

** this coach was formerly at our school and is responsible for Wildebeest’s knee problem after having him run 17 miles on concrete so I have some, what shall I call them, mixed feelings about the coach’s enthusiasm for running. 

*** this year was indeed my slowest time but after checking I realized it was only 41 seconds slower than my fastest time. Huh.

Oh yeah, and I also won a free jersey and pair of running shoes. Score!

Feet On the Ground

/ Tracy Abell

Out on the trails at 6:45 this morning,
concentrating on where I place my feet
as I run along the rocky, rutted paths.

Lifting my knees that are scarred from various falls,
repeating my internal mantra that keeps me focused and upright:
Feet on the ground, feet on the ground.
Head down and pumping arms as I push against the wind.
Feet on the ground, feet on the ground.

Running down into a ravine and up the other side,
calling out to the young rabbits I see there most days.
No bunnies.
I run past, slightly deflated by the missed interaction.
Slightly puzzled.

Then movement to my left and I think
Ah, they’re over on that side today.
I turn.
Two coyotes startled by my voice, leaping sideways
from where they’d been lying alongside the trail.
Just feet from me and my brain that’s focused on bunnies.
I lift my head and look around, spotting a third coyote farther away.

The four of us watch each other, uncertainty heavy in the air.
What’s the next move?

I offer a quiet apology and continue running,
my grin wide as I watch where I place my feet.

I’m still smiling fiifteen minutes farther along the trail
when a full-grown bunny jumps out in front of me and
races ahead, leaving me in her dust.

Feet on the ground, feet on the ground.

New Running and Writing Perspectives

/ Tracy Abell

           

I'm developing new perspectives 
regarding running and writing,
perspectives I hope will sustain me.

I am a creature of habit
and while there's no harm in my many years 
of ordering aloo gobi at Indian restaurants
or my drawer filled with black shirts,
black shirt   black shirt   black shirt

I'm realizing I do myself a disservice when I,
for example, get so focused on how fast I can run a certain
trail that I get locked into that one workout.

Last summer I ran three or four times a week
on the trails in the open space,
trails that include lots of rocks and inclines.
When it came time for the annual road race 5k to benefit my kids'
high school I was sure I'd kick butt.
Well, I did cut some time but nothing close to what I'd hoped for,
and I didn't know why.

Now I think I do.

Every run was on the same couple loops,
starting from the same place 
and ending at the same point.
My muscles got used to those runs and settled in at that level.

Here's what the trail system looks like where I run:
Hayden Green Mountain trail map
image from BigDaddyMaps.com

While it's true there are many trails, 
not all those trails are great for running.
Many are so steep I'd be faster hiking them than "running."
So I gravitated to the trails that had long sections of tolerable inclines,
wanting a decent-length workout. 

This summer I'm trying something new:
I go off on tangents, even if those trails are short or quickly turn steep.
I'm keeping my muscles on their proverbial toes as I mix up my workouts.
As a result, I'm not obsessed with my time and allow myself the luxury of 
watching coyotes or jumping sideways at the sight of a snake.

Jim Fixx cover
Every step I take is a good step.

So what does this lengthy screed have to do with my writing?
I'm back working on the project I set aside in April in order to focus
on other revisions, the project that's different from any other book I've written.

This project intimidates me and I really have no clue whether I'm hitting the mark.
But I'm using new writing muscles and that can only make me a stronger writer 
(assuming I don't run screaming into the night).

Something else I've learned?
New perspectives are not only good for the muscles but nourish the soul.

                       

Nature Nurtures

/ Tracy Abell

            

It's crazy hot and windy here in Colorado.
Wildfires burning
air quality ever-changing
and frequently poor.

Woke to a smoky house in middle of the night
so shut off swamp cooler and closed windows.

Air was decent on Saturday and Sunday mornings
and I hit the trails early.
Saturday I was treated to coyote sightings – three in all
so stopped to watch them watch me.
I smiled the rest of the run (even on the uphill).

Because I don't run with a camera here's a coyote cousin from somewhere else:
Coyote - Hollingsworth, John and Karen - NCTC
Image by: John and Karen – NCTC

Nature most definitely nurtures my soul.

And on days like today 
when I don't want to pollute my lungs
I stay inside and look out my window.  

Mystery bird 014
© Tracy Abell 2012

What have you seen today?

               

My Secret to Mental Health

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

        

As mentioned (ahem) a time or two before,
I don't do well with the short, dark days of winter
and try all sorts of things to keep myself from
collapsing into a weeping sack of Tracy.

My current favorite weapon for deflecting the winter blues
is to do a 20-minute cardio workout on the treadmill
(walk, jog, stride, sprint, repeat x 4).
I know, I know…big deal, right?

Wrong.
I don't do the workout just any old time: I do the workout
so it coincides with the sun disappearing behind the foothills.

Why? 
Because even though the sun is leaving me for the day,
I don't really mind because at that very moment my system is flooded with endorphins.


                                                                                   image from morguefile.com

Take that, Winter!