Healing

Generally, you will find me waxing poetic on trailrunning, its difficulty and its beauty. It is where I prefer to be: in the mountains, by myself, suffering up the climbs for the view and downhill on the other side. Scenery and topography are two important parts to enjoying the outdoor experience, but more often than not you'll find me on a back road, dodging school buses and befriending curious dogs. Although the deeper connection that nature brings to a run is diluted on the road, hitting the pavement is not to be ignored for its simplicity and allowances.
I do not know many people who began their running career climbing the sides of mountains and bombing down sun-soaked, rooted switchbacks. Treadmills and paved routes make up the majority of a beginning and experienced runner's repertoire. The road is a readily available, generally forgiving entity. It can provide anything you want: challenge, easy miles, a place to vent or some time to relax.
I have recently had the opportunity to meet a runner who used the road as a form of mental and emotional healing. A tragedy occurred and the road was where he went to make sense of it all, if indeed we can make sense of such occurrences this side of Heaven. His music and muscles moved him through towns and quiet country roads, expelling tension, anger and pain through every footfall. It seems to me, although I'm sure there are times of questioning, that he has at least caught a glimpse of what he was looking for when he first laced up.
This is not a rarity. Many runners I've spoken with about their draw to running site a personal or family event that sent them looking for a release. I believe it is not where you run, your gait style, the clothes on your body or any other outward force that contributes much to a run; it is the simple act of forward locomotion. It is releasing the constraints of not only your own inhibitions and insecurities, but also that of the society we live in. It's the rhythm of feet hitting the pavement, even breathing and personal, physical exertion. Making it farther today than you could last week, climbing that bastard of a hill without walking; little victories. A calm mind and tired muscles go hand in hand.
For this gentleman and countless others, the most basic survival instinct of our ancestors has become the most effective form of survival in our modern world.

So, are you having a bad day? Month? Year? Lace up and get out the door, there is peace out there on the road. You just have to go far enough and often enough to find it.

Summer arrives with a length of light

What we are witnessing outside are the first blows of Spring being delivered to Winter. They are slow, methodical body shots of a welterweight meant to weaken their opponent. You'll see only a quick evidence of them in days like today when you can smell the mud and hear the water from melting snow banks making their way to swell the rivers. Rivers that, unfortunately, will be frozen again by the weekend. 

Winter is a heavyweight and won't go down easy. He is tall and thick and limber and hits like the devil, looking for his young opponent to drop his glove. Right hook, connect, 19 degrees with snow. Spring stumbles back, dazed and shaken.

It is the classic underdog story though. Eventually the Cinderella of the Seasons will land the hits he needs: jab, cross, uppercut, body, body, uppercut. Winter's down for the count.

Not today, however. Today Spring has capitalized on Winter's cocksure winner's attitude that has been built up over the last few months of snowfall and sub-zero temperatures. He underestimated Spring's right cross, left hook combo and took it straight on the chin. A mistake he won't make again soon.

So get out today. Go for a run, take a hike, get a little muddy. Quickly, before Winter has a chance to recover. 

The Wind in the Hollow

There are generally very, very few things that will keep me in. Growing up living on top of Valley Forge Rd in Duncansville, I am very used to the wind coming down through the hollow. Especially in Winter time. However, living on top of the hill in Pensyl Hollow is a different beast. 

I've been woken every morning at 5:30, my normal weekly run time, and then pulled immediately back into bed by the wind actively trying to huff and puff and blow the house in. Wind is the enemy, especially at these temperatures. Obviously, while thunder and lightning, heavy snow storms and other natural disasters (I swear to you I ran through a tornado once whilst in college! It was Spring though, so the wind was welcomed then... I'm a bit of a hypocrite.) don't keep me in, cold + wind does. Do you share my hatred for frozen face masks/buffs during the run? The group run through the Cove on Saturday was a perfect example of the conditions I despise. 

Now, you may ask, how much of that is actually the wind and how much is Wintertime Blues? And on top of that, how much is it Adam just being a REAL big baby? I'm still trying to figure that out myself. I'd say equal parts Blues and Baby. The wind has always been, it's just recently I refuse to play outside in it. Being the beginning of February, and having run and survived the past few weeks in single degree, negative wind chill conditions, I believe I may just be tired of this white stuff crap. 

My affinity for sweet things has not dwindled, however, and so I earnestly await Spring. Spring with all her mud and water and birds and trail runs and cool mornings warming to beautiful afternoons. A perfect time of year for a campfire, second only to Fall when we foolishly welcome the chillier months back into our lives. (Summer really is too dang hot for a fire; I blame movies for making this foolish practice seem like a good idea.) 

So here I sit, mapping out a run through some new territory. I'm praying there's trees up there to break the wind this evening. 

Freezing Rain and Farewell to a Good Hill.

January is a harsh month. Generally it starts off with hopes and goals set for the new year, they taper to hopes by the 15th and by the time we've muddled through a short 27 days, most hope has died in a grey scale, cold, bleak fall into the abyss.
I say harsh on the personal and the business level. January is our slowest month at the shop, where there are days like today that I wonder why I even put pants on. Training is under way for Spring marathons, but we only get that blessed group run interaction on Saturday morning until this weather breaks. It's cold, it's dark, and I am reminded why the suicide rate is so high in Seattle.
Even the dog won't play. There she lays on the rug, hoping to have the opportunity to great (maul) the next unsuspecting customer. And yet she stays asleep, lulled by the ticking of keys as orders are placed for next Fall.

It began as a good morning, however. My wife, pup and I have recently moved further into the dark recesses of Bedford County. I fear that soon we will become one of "them". I kid. Bedford's a beautiful county, the house we bought is pretty awesome and the view we have is hard to rival. I think, I don't really stand outside in this crap weather to look for too long. From what I gather though, it'll be great on Summer nights!

I got to check out the area this morning, getting a feel for the hills and roads I've only previously driven. The roads we frozen and lightly traveled and it was 25*, prefect chance to try out the new Salomon Sense Mantras. I like establishing new routes. I like it even more that I have a 3.1 and a 5.5 mile loop straight out of the door, with much, much more exploring to be done. The house sets at the top of a hill with three possible access point: a long hill, a long hill or a gradual back road climb that also uses a section of the latter long hill. I do like to climb, which makes this perfect!

These two climbs, though, are nothing like my previous normal routes. Sawmill Road in Fishertown was a good darn hill. Coming up the western side was a nice warm up beginning at the half mile mark. It was just enough to wake you up but not not enough to have you sucking wind. The eastern side, however, was a longer, more gradual climb with a steep kick up at the very end which always had me suffering up and over the top. The road "Ts" at the top, with another road climbing slightly then dropping down to Fishertown Market, where the men would sit in the mornings and, I'm sure, debate my level of sanity and orientation of physical attraction. That's a sweet hill. Go do hill repeats on that sucker: 5 up hard, 3 down easy, 1 down hard and finish the loop. That's a rough morning that'll make you strong in no time!
I've moved four times since I began running. My original running routes, where I left half a person melted somewhere on the pavement, were in Maryland, 16 miles from Ocean City. I had a 3 mile, a 2 mile, a 6 mile, a 10 and somewhere around a 12. I worked nights, had a screwed up sleep schedule, got the bug and ran after work each morning, before work each evening and on days of would either walk or yog the 2 mile loop after dinner. It's odd to think, but the area down there was all farm land. Corn, horses and the most awful smell you'll ever encounter in 90* heat: chicken farms. Man were they bad! Not only could you smell the farms a half mile away, but they transported chickens almost every day in tractor trailers, going Heaven knows where. How could they move 18 wheelers full of chickens and yet still have chickens at the farms?? Every time one of those bad boys rolled on by, you would've thought you got punch in the face with a fist made out of garbage. There were people I got to know, some who handed me water, some who cursed me out, some who pushed me off the roads, but these routes are still very special. Even now thinking about it I'm getting nostalgic.
For instance, there was one farm that had a Colt that I would talk to almost every day. He would meet me at one end of the fence and run with me to the other end. It was awesome in the old sense of the word. That's still probably one of the coolest things I've experienced during a run.
Moving back from Maryland to Pa was a kick in the lungs. Maryland is flat in that area, and Pa is anything but flat. I found that my 5 milers here felt like my 10 milers there, even in the cool fall temps in Waynesburg. College is where I really started having fun, doing long runs out to WalMart for 10 miles in the mornings (which impressed people who hated driving out there) and "racing" on the weekends in Pittsburgh. I say "racing" but I'm in no way competitive, I do these races for shirts and fun. I'd love to see the area's running community grow to what they've got going down there in the 'Burg. We've got a good base, we just need to convert more runners!!
I won't bore you anymore, what I'm getting at here is that routes are like your girlfriend. You get to know every inch of them, even navigating them in the pitch dark. You know where the hurt climbs are, when you can relax, where the blind turns are, the difference in temperatures on top of the ridge and in the valleys. You are connected with them on a friendship level. It's like choosing who to go out with on Friday night. Do I want to party? The guys. Do I want a hard run? Hominy Hill loop. Oh well. Things change, life carries you around, and new friends are made.

Here's to a change of scenery.

The Cold, the Dark and the Silence...

Pennsylvanians have lost their edge. We were spoiled for two or three years with crazy mild winters that had everyone screaming "Climate change!" or "Gore was right!". When you hear the latter, you know people have begun to go insane. 

I can remember going to school on mornings that the car thermometer (we were lower-upper-middle class) read 0* because I don't think it could read into the negatives. When we got to school, the furnace didn't work so we had to wear our coats to class. Although the cold kept us awake, I think it made us all a little more surly too. 

Now we're touching down close to where temps were in the good ole days, topping out at a balmy 12* today, and you'd think we were moving into the new ice age. Kids are off school or on delay!

Bull. Malarkey.

I'm not tooting my own horn here, but I laced on my Salomon Speedcross for extra traction, threw on a face mask, 37 pairs of gloves and headed out. It was -15* with the wind, or so the news said. The route I took is my original long-run hill course, a 4 mile out 'n back on Dry Run Road. It's fairly downhill on the way out and has you running down the hollow headed east, or with the jet streams. (Isn't it funny looking back at how difficult your original running routes were when you started out?) I had on my hunting face mask and the only skin open to the wind was a little mask around my eyes. It was great headed out! I was fairly warm, especially my face. The use of the fleece and lycra face mask was an obvious testament to my running experience and prowess.

Always remember, what goes down the hollow, and doesn't continue onto the loop, must come back the hollow. The wind is fierce coming off of Steel Mountain and funneling down through Dry Run hollow. It fought me the entire way back. It also didn't help that my awesome face mask was now restricting my oxygen intake as I sucked air coming back up the hills. I was uncomfortable, but I thought the extra difficulty would make up for the shorter distance. "Ah, this is good anaerobic training! I'll have to do this more often to get ready for trail racing!" Until I got back onto Valley Forge Rd and had to make the climb. About a quarter of the way up I was getting almost no air and yanked the mask down around my neck. 

I knew I was building up moisture from my breath inside the mask, and I knew taking it off was a poor idea, but I did it. Immediately, and I mean within about 4 seconds of pulling down the mask, my poor excuse for facial hair was frozen stiff. Fearing frostbite, I know it was maybe a little ridiculous, I pulled it back up and tried not to blackout as I trudged up the rest of the hill towards the end point. 

Moral of this story: When it's this cold, cross train. That or use a buff, they're much more forgiving than your hunting mask. 

That being said, we're heading out again at 5:30p. Want to join?? 

Second moral: It's not stupid if you can talk other people into going with you. Then it's fun!

Eat, Sleep, Run, Grow, Hike, Explore, Trespass & A Shoe Review

This weekend, the Kel and I headed down to Chambersburg, Pa for the inaugural Eat, Sleep, Run, Grow (http://www.eatsleeprungrow.com/) women's conference and expo. Let me get it out there early that we were working the event for Achiva and Foxtrot. I was not attending. The event was organized and executed by Brenda Miller and a great group of volunteers. The conference consisted of mini-seminars on topics from self defense to nutrition to chi running. Fruit, coffee and lunch were all provided and everything was delicious! This event was so well organized and the help so good that one couldn't have guessed this was a first year event. Ladies, if you're looking for a girl-only weekend, I suggest you hit this up next year! We will definitely be headed back down!

     While we were there, we introduced our newest shoe from Mizuno, the Wave Evo Lvitas with a great response. Up until now, Mizuno has stuck to their guns on staying far away from the minimalist footwear market. They put in the time and research, feeling out how the market would trend and finally struck with this sweet little deal. For a while there it seemed like every company was dumping out a lightweight, low lifespan, exposed EVA soled shoe and calling it minimalist. These models have quickly gone by the wayside and are being phased out.
     What I like so much about the Levitas is the thought that was put into it. I always tell people who balk at shoe prices that they are paying for the technology and research as much as the materials used to make them.  Mizuno's technology has long been the Wave Plate located in the heels of all their shoes. This plate is meant to absorb and disperse the force of impact when your heel strikes the ground. Mizuno has taken this idea and transferred it to the forefoot of the Levitas to perform the same task: disperse impact forces. This allows your foot to work while still providing your body with cushion and a little extra protection and support. Genius.
     The uppers of this shoe are very, very thin, making it a three-season go getter. Mizuno has gone to great lengths to lighten their shoes while maintaining costs and midsole materials. To do this, all of the 2013 models have gone through a very drastic stripping of the uppers, lightening the shoes by as much as an ounce.
My only negative so far has been the toe box, which is much tighter than I personally enjoy. However, if you are a normal human being, you'll be fine with it. The shoe has the great Mizuno midfoot fit and feel that people love.
   If you're new to the world of minimalism, think of this one as your PR maker. Use it for speed work, track work, races and shorter distances. If you're tried and true in the art of midfoot-forefoot running, think of this as your new best friend and tear the soles off!

Evo Levitas Men

Evo Levitas Women

     Switching gears, I wanted to touch on a subject that people who own land might find offensive. I have a problem that I equate to being born in the wrong century: I have a need to find out what is on the other side of the ridge. With so much technology and google maps and the like, I feel like people's sense of adventure and curiosity about the world around us has dwindled to all but nothing.
I enjoy running for many reasons, but we'll start with consciousness. The road, and especially the trail, makes you ultra-aware yet also tuned out. The mind just works better while propelling your body down a path using its own machinery. Problems are solved, ideas are born, smells (usually dead possums) are vibrant and little things are more easily noticed. Also, some of the best prayers are prayed while enjoying sunrises. You run and think about nothing when all at once your stride syncs with your surroundings, your mind is completely calm and you're just happy to be alive and have this gift of running ability. You know what I mean.
However, this awareness also helps me to notice little paths that I've never seen and ignore that bright yellow POSTED sign as I hop off of the pavement and into the dirt.
     Four-wheeler trails are my vice. Usually I'll use my better judgement and stay away, but that all depends on how long ago I watched Deliverance. Today, I didn't think about squealing in the woods as I climbed up the side of the ridge and wandered around past deer stands, through brush, up and down power lines and above people'a houses, just behind the tree line. I respect people and their right to privacy, and i don't trudge through anyone's back yards. But, when hunting season is over and most of the "outdoorsmen" have returned to the comfort of the recliner, I poke around and see how I can get to Foot of Ten from Dry Run.
Lewis and Clark had it made. They discovered and mapped 3/4 of an entire continent, had an Indian guide and camped in Cape Disappointment! In a world with not much left to discover, I am left to explore uncharted territory. When my foot prints are the only thing left, and only Sacagawea could see them anyway, I'll take the chance and find out where these paths go.

New Year, New Goals, Not A Lot of Time

My name is Adam McGinnis, also known as "That Guy from Foxtrot" among other aliases.

This will be a quick, to the point post. Welcome to The Fox Trot Runner's corner, where you'll get rambling race reports, musings on training, food and life in general and the like! I truly hope that something you read on here will brighten your day, give you a goal or at the very least not offend you... too much.

This year ushers in three very exciting things for me: Fox Trot Runners' second year of operation(!!), two confirmed ultra distance races including a 70 and 100 mile "race" and my wife and I's first home! The latter of the three being why this post is concise: we must pack!

So I hope to entertain as I expound on my days on the run, and I truly appreciate your loyal readership! Until then, I bid you good day and happy running!!