En-June-ment

 Oh, June..

With your extra dramatic sunsets

I can't say that spring or summer is my favourite season, but I think June might actually be my favourite month.

Something I've only just realised - you'd think I'd have known!

Snow is finally a thing of the past, and you can peel off all the layers that can feel so restrictive during the colder months. 

You can often find some natural accessories for an outfit, too

You'll seldom have to worry about getting chilled after a run, either, so can forego needing to bring along a change of clothes if you're running place-to-place.

Though I do recommend a change of shoes if you go for a cool-down dip at the end

I love that there are flowers everywhere..

Along the trailsides

Carpeting the riverbanks

In the catwalks

Even in gardens around the city, helping our native pollinators as they do their important work

The air is scented with ever-changing flower fragrances: first the lilacs and lily of the valley, then phlox and peonies, and on to roses and clover and blossom-laden trees.

I have no idea what this is, but it smells divine!

The trees that don't burst forth with luscious petals - or that have already dropped them - stretch canopies of leaves overhead to shelter you from the scorching sun.

Nothing more pleasant than some cooling shade on a hot day.

Once barren-looking, monotone brown trails explode into a riot of green.

This was nothing much to look at  a bare few weeks before.

With it still being spring until the latter third of the month, you can feel the whole summer stretching out in front of you, full of possibilities. 

Though I'm not sure anyone will enjoy it quite as much as Esme

The best part of all (as long as you're not a goofy kitty who just wants to wriggle in the grass), though?

It's the start of TRAIL SNACK SEASON!

Awww, yiss!

I was just bopping along a trail I'd only recently come to know, and was midway down a steep hill when I dug in my heels to come to a screeching halt. I'd spotted that patch above and needed to investigate more thoroughly. Sure enough - hundreds of perfectly ripe, wild strawberries!

I only ate 4, but you can bet I'll be back for more!

The raspberries along the singletrack to the pollinator preserve - not to mention the ones that suddenly showed up in our backyard last year - are coming along nicely, and should be ready for mid-run munching within a week or so. As the summer presses on, I hope to get myself further north or to higher elevations where I might find wild blueberries as well!

In the meantime, you'll find me with a flower in my hat, just eating my way around the landscape..

..and completely unable to wipe that smile off my face.

The solstice is this Sunday, so happy summer to all of you!

Taking it back

 No, not something I've said.

I stand firmly behind all of my blitherings!

I'm taking back a term that has been used in derogatory fashion by certain folks who often think quite highly of themselves, regardless of whether or not their esteem is deserved.

I might get a bit salty, but I promise there will still be pretty photos.

The term? Hobby jogger.

*cue dramatic sky* Dun dun DUUUUUUN

If you're sitting there wondering what it's supposed to mean, I'll reference the Urban Dictionary for you (for the first and - if we're all lucky - last time on this blog):

"Term of mild abuse describing recreational runners. Normally invoked by more experienced and accomplished athletes.

I watched the New York Marathon on TV last week and after the first couple of hundred went by it was wall to wall hobby joggers."

Because why shouldn't everything be subject to elitism, right?

Here's the thing: if you want to be that guy (or girl, or possibly small ornamental teapot - you do you, folks!) who is hyper-focused on squeezing every drop of performance out of the meat suit you wear, that's heckin' awesome. If you find success and get showered in glorious podium finishes, I am absolutely stoked for you! 

You know there's a giant "however" coming..

HOWEVER (see? Look how smart you are!), if you think for one hot second - maybe that second you just shaved off your mile PR - that your results give you the right to look down on other people who may not care as much about being the best & fastest, you're dead wrong. 

There's so much more to life than "get faster"

I've been known to push myself pretty hard in races from time to time, and occasionally even get lucky when the fast people stayed home; I've stepped up on a few podiums myself here and there, though typically with times that would make the sort of person who uses "hobby jogger" like an epithet sneer. What keeps me running, though - day in, day out, week after week and year after year - is the joy it brings, through the things I get to see and experience along the way.

Like the weird light of an overcast winter day

If my primary goal were performance, I'd likely have a training plan set out that would prescribe certain paces and times I'd have to try to hit every week, rather than simply listening to my body and mind and letting myself run according to the day. 

I almost certainly couldn't just decide to throw down a snowshoe run because the conditions happened to be perfect that afternoon.

I'd have to be focused on staying in my target heart rate zone, paying attention to my watch's display of my metrics rather than to the world around me.

Which would mean I might miss the beauty of this creative and eco-friendly ornament..

..or the frosty beauty of one of summer's forgotten fungi.

I'd have to choose places to train that would let me dictate my pace by my effort, rather than flowing with the lay of the land as it rolls over roots and rocks, and flows in frozen streams.

How am I supposed to do 3 x 5mins at 5k pace through this?

I'm delighted that there are people out there who push the limits of human performance to ever-higher marks - I respect their dedication and effort, but even if I were to focus my energies to the same degree and fulfill 100% of my true running potential, I'd still be left in the dust of almost anyone but the most average of athletes. I don't have much talent, and made poor choices in my youth that further impaired my chances of ever lighting the world on fire with my athleticism. So, instead I run for joy.

And sometimes stop and tuck myself into a hollow tree, just because.

I jog. As a hobby. Hobby...jogger. I'm owning it, but I'll never think myself less for doing so. Running might not mean the same thing to me as it does to someone else, but what a bore it would be if we were all the same. I certainly can't say that I enjoy it every single run - there are times when I just want to laze on the couch instead, and days when the best thing about running is that I eventually got to stop - but it's good more often than it's not, so I'll just keep trotting around with my phone camera handy, until age or injuries prevent me, or it ceases to be fun.

After all, it's just a hobby, right?

I hope you never encounter anyone who tries to make you feel like you're lesser because you approach something differently than they do, but if you do I 100% have your back. Just run your own run, and know that you're probably having more fun!

Just goofin' around

Running can be tough to keep up during the winter.

It's definitely not all blue skies and sunshine.

When the wind howls and it seems like it's been weeks since you've felt the sun on your face, it can be difficult to motivate yourself to get out and chug around in the cold. Add in the pandemic restrictions making life more complicated, and the couch seems like a much more attractive option.

Well, more comfortable anyway - it's definitely prettier out in the woods!

So, here's my suggestion. Don't go out for a run - go out for play instead.

No really - hear me out.

I've had a tough week - putting in a lot of overtime to finish off some projects, and trying to solve all the problems that come across my desk. Sometimes I hardly take lunch, or do so late enough that it can't really be considered "lunch" at all.

Call it a late afternoon run and big snack?

I have more than enough work in my life without making running seem like a chore, so I choose to play instead. How do I do that? Same way that you can, and it starts by noticing what's around you.

Oh look!

For most normal humans, that's an informative plaque about plantation forests and a prime example of forest management. If you're willing to be a bit of a goof about it, though..

The perfect posing chäir!
(It may help to be a fan of @ultrarunningmemes here)

You can stop and swing from a handy branch - by your hands, or try from your knees if you're braver (and more flexible). You don't have to be on a trail, either; most suburban and urban areas have parks, and playgrounds, and maybe fitness equipment. Who says you have to be under highschool age to have a go on the slide, or swing on the swingset?

Like my hot new motorcycle?
(NB: use caution if you're over 100lbs and try something on a spring.
There may or may not have been a near-faceplant)

Even something as mundane as shoveling your driveway can be a little more fun if you include random dance breaks - why shouldn't you do the same while running?

Everyday I'm shovelin'..

You can stop to build a snowman or other snow-sculpture, roll down a hill instead of running down, or just blanket your neighbourhood with snow angels.

Snowy dead-end street? SNOW ANGEL TIME!

Of course, you're going to need to be bundled up for all of this, and I absolutely do not recommend doing anything near traffic or on private property that could get you fined, hurt, or even just yelled at.

There's plenty of fun to be had in public spaces, as long as you don't mind looking like a bit of an idiot!

I just don't think we get enough chances in our adult lives to play, but running is an excellent chance to change that...and you never know, you might actually start to look forward to getting out there in the cold!

Give it a try, and let me know about the antics you get up to!

I've not been able to find an attribution for it, but there's a fantastic quote that really embodies all of this:

"If you choose not to find joy in the snow, you will have less joy in your life, but still the same amount of snow."

Me? I'll choose joy every time, and I hope you do, too! 

Going beyond

 So last week I went off about how awesome timed races are, despite a few disadvantages.

One of which I'm going to explore a little more deeply.

A friend recently posed the question to me: if you have a certain goal you'd like to reach in a timed race, and you achieve that goal with time to spare, is it considered quitting if you don't keep going?

If you feel like I'm gonna go off into the weeds here, you may very well be right.

Obviously we all have our own ideas about what constitutes an "acceptable" outcome for a race, so what follows are just my own opinions. There's no use in getting bent out of shape about what some idiot on the internet thinks, and I guarantee I will be just as friendly and goofy toward you as I've always been even if you vehemently disagree with me. 

That said, I think there are only three situations in which it's acceptable to stop while there's still time on the clock:

Let's pick our way through them, shall we?

1. You are gravely injured or it is otherwise medically inadvisable to continue.

This one really ought to go without saying, but I am exactly the kind of knob who will just carry on regardless. See: multiple Horror Hill 6-hours, and definitely the inaugural Tally in the Valley 12-hour night race. I definitely don't advocate for people to continue running when they could do long-term damage - I'm just too dumb to stop. Follow the example of other people who are way brighter (and more talented) than I will ever be, and shut'er down if things go fruit-shaped. No shade here.

Darkness here, but no shade.

2. It's not possible to complete another reasonable unit of distance before time elapses.

This only really applies in the last hour or so of a long race. If partial laps don't count and you don't figure you'll be able to complete another full one, I'm not going to fault you for deciding against a fool's errand. Same goes if you don't think you can make it to the next checkpoint on a course; I've come through the start/finish with ~20mins to make 2km, and known there was no way I'd actually get it done in time for it to count. Even if partial laps count and you might have time to make the next checkpoint, if it'll put you far from the finish area I am 100% fine with saying "screw it" and stopping somewhere convenient; I'm sure I could have make another kilometer (which would have counted) at Sunburn Solstice last year, but then I'd just have had to limp my worn-out, possibly-broken-foot'ed way that whole kilometer back again, and after 15hrs of pretty much constant forward motion that was a hearty nope.

The river might keep flowin', but I wasn't goin'

3. You're using it as a training run and continuing might jeopardize your goal race.

This one might sort of seem like it overlaps with having a goal distance and stopping once you've achieved it, but the mentality is different: if you go into (let's say) a 12-hour race thinking you hope you can run 50mi before the time elapses, that - to me, anyway - is distinct from going into a 12-hour race with the idea that you'll run for 8 hours or 40mi and then call it a day because you have a 100km race in 6 weeks and this is your long training run. I have seen friends do almost exactly that: run precisely 4 hours out of a 6-hour because that's what their training plan calls for, or stop after a prescribed number of laps. I partly include this as a legitimate reason because I don't think I'd ever personally have the discipline to stop myself if there was still time left on the clock.

I'm really just a bit of a puppy dog at heart, and will run as long as I'm able.

The whole concept of setting a goal for a non-distance-specific race can be dicey: once you have made it to your goal, the motivation to continue (particularly if you've pushed hard, or for many hours, or both) can be tough to maintain. It's something that has been highlighted recently with the explosion in popularity of backyard-style ultras: 2018 winner of Big's Backyard Ultra (the grandaddy of them all) Guillame Calmettes is reported as saying "You should never set a goal for yourself at this race. Because if you do, when you hit that goal, you feel successful and stop." That's obviously a problem in a last-man-standing event, but also applies to timed racing. 

My take on the whole thing is that achieving your goal is awesome, but if there's still time remaining on the clock and you're reasonably able to continue, why wouldn't you go for it to see how much you're really capable of accomplishing? You registered for an event that takes place over a set number of hours, so why not take advantage of the time you've been given, even if you just end up walking it in? 

You might get to appreciate the scenery a little more, as well as giving your body a welcome cool-down.

Perhaps that's just my own version of self-flagellation: I don't permit myself to end my day until I've done the thing I set out to do. Or perhaps it's something to do with the practice of setting A, B, and C goals for races that started back in my triathlon years; the C goal might be just "finish upright without hurting myself", the B goal might be "finish faster than last year", and the A goal might be "finish under 2 hours if all goes right"...but there's always the possibility that I surprise myself, and if I'm 2mins away from running through the finish and it's only been 1h50m, I'm definitely not going to drop to a walk and try to run the clock out to 1h59m before crossing the line! So the A+ goal is always out there, and since most of my endurance sport career has been an attempt to find out what I'm capable of, I will never shy away from the opportunity to surpass my own expectations and aspirations. Goals should be set to help you push yourself along; they shouldn't hold you back from discovering your true limits.

But then again, what do I know?

I'm just some idiot on the internet.
(With amazing taste in coffee, as evidenced by my snazzy new hat. 
Go try some of Monigram's magic for yourself!
They don't sponsor me or anything - they're just awesome!)

Really, though, just get out there and have fun - as long as you're not hurting anyone else, I'll cheer you on just the same for setting a goal and going for it!

Got the time?

 ..tickin' in your head?

The link above has nothing to do with this post, but I'll never not throw it out there it if given half a chance.

Apart from a few notable exceptions, there are basically two race formats: the most common is a set distance, like a 5k, 10k, marathon (42.2k), 50k, 50 mile, or 100 mile. The idea with those is to cover the set distance in the shortest possible elapsed time, assuming that's your jam - there's almost always a clock of some kind, though, and some recording of how quickly (or not) you did the thing. 

For the record, I've never been quick, and quite enjoy taking my time to absorb the scenery while "racing".

The other common race format is timed races: you run around a (typically fairly short) course for a set amount of time, seeing how much distance you can cover in the allowed timespan. Great examples include Horror Trail, Frosty Trail, and Stride Inside (with 1hr, 3hr & 6hr options); Tally in the Valley (with 6hr, 12hr day or night, and 24hr options); and Sunburn Solstice, which was a fascinating format in which the times were all based on the period from sunrise to sunset on the longest day of the year (full-, half-, quarter- or eighth-solstice, with the full being 15hrs23mins starting at sunrise at 5:39am and the other events joining in as the day progressed).

You can probably guess which event I chose at Sunburn Solstice.

There are actually a few advantages to the timed format for racing, particularly if you're having a rough day. While distance-based races require that you either make it to the finish line or take a DNF, a friend of mine once insightfully pointed out it's basically impossible to DNF in a timed race: whenever you stop, that's your distance covered. If you stop hours before the event is officially over you're unlikely to place highly, but you'll still be recorded as a finisher.

No matter how early (or late) in the day.

The short loops also mean you have frequent access to not only an aid station but generally your own gear - if you're someone like me who has food allergies or just strong preferences about your on-course nutrition and hydration, or you need to change up shoes or clothing, it can be really nice to see all your kit anywhere from every couple of minutes to once per hour. It definitely can mean carrying less, and less weight to transport around a course basically always translates to faster running if you're pushing yourself.

Particularly if there's a lot of uphill on the loop.

There's also the camaraderie that comes with short-loop races - even quite small differences in pace can lead to you passing or being passed many times over the length of the event, which is a fabulous opportunity to offer or receive a friendly word from fellow runners. This is one of the huge reasons I'm such a fan of the format - it's like a big party with a bit of exercise involved.

We may have different ideas of what constitutes a party - or a pleasant chance to go run.

Timed races also have their disadvantages, too. Some people find them mentally difficult because they get bored easily with the scenery, in which case I absolutely recommend avoiding any indoor track races. Ok, I actually recommend avoiding indoor tracks at all until this pandemic business is history, but you know what I mean. At 8km, the now-defunct Dirty Girls race has about the longest course I've personally done for a timed race (it was the site of my first 12-hour back in 2016), while at 2km the Frosty Trail course is the shortest of the outdoor loops I've seen, though I do know that there are multiple timed races (like That Dam Hill and Three Days at the Fair) that use a 1 mile path. If you're at it for more than an hour, you're going to cover the same ground a fair number of times, and not everyone likes the sensation of running around in circles. I've been asked how I manage not to get bored, and my answer is pretty simple: even if the loop is technically the same each time, I won't perceive it in the same way. Outdoors, the light and temperature will change with the passing hours. Indoors, my own points of focus will change: something may start to hurt, or cease to be troublesome, or I may be hungry or thirsty or tired or energetic depending on the moment. 

It's a bit like a river: it is born anew every moment, as the same water never flows past twice.

Those same short loops can be a bit demoralizing at times, particularly in the later hours of an indoor track race. The only indoor tracks on which I've run are both under 250m in length, and you pass the clock with each lap. When you're hurting and see 4:27:36 and know you've got just over an hour and a half to go, it can be tough to put in another lap and still have over mins 'til the sweet release of the finishing horn.

Assuming you make it that far.

For some people, the constant proximity to the finish area may lead them to stop early if they're starting to tire or hurt - folks who might have no trouble pushing themselves to a distant finish may find the temptation of their crew, car, and/or home a little too alluring when they see their exit every few minutes. 

It can also be a good thing if a medical issue crops up, though.

That same constant access to your own food, drink, and gear can also cause trouble if you're pushing for maximum performance: it can take discipline to keep your stops as minimal as possible, as it's easy to waste a great deal of precious time if you're picking up nutrition too often (hint: pockets are good - use them!) or tend to dawdle over refilling or changing clothing. Stopping every 2.5km over the course of 6 hours (versus every 5-8km between aid stations at your average race) can cost you several minutes, and is seldom necessary...but oh, so tempting if your stuff is right there.

Speaking of discipline, your own ability to push yourself becomes a larger factor in timed races than it necessarily does in distance-based events, as there's no bar set for achievement. It can be all too easy to fall into the trap of lazing your way along to run the clock out, particularly if it's a rough day and you're just hanging on. It can begin to feel like there's nothing to be gained by working hard; you won't be done any more quickly, so why not just walk a bunch, or spend a half-hour chatting it up with the aid station volunteers? 

Of course, only you can decide whether or not that constitutes a problem. For me personally, though, I have a tendency to measure my success in a race by the effort I put in - I'm not quick enough to win awards in most races, but I know whether or not I've given it an honest go, and I'd be disappointed in myself if I gave in too much to the allure of sandbagging just to kill time.

Completely unrelated image of someone's Christmas decorations - don't they look pretty in the snow?

Despite the disadvantages seemingly outweighing the advantages, I'm a huge proponent of racing for time, and would seriously suggest it to anyone looking to dip their toe into the world of ultras, or just pushing their limits to run further than they have before. The short loops allow you plenty of bail-out opportunities if you truly need them, and the sense of community among runners is always at its best when you are given so many chances for interaction along the way.

It's like the antithesis of all the socially distanced events this year.
Speaking of which, I finally caught Sputnik on Saturday the 28th of November!

For those who balk at the idea due to their expectations of boredom with a short loop, or the required mental toughness to run in circles for hours, I'd say that your very hesitations should be considered enticements to give it a try. No better way to build mental resilience than to confront something that makes you balk head-on, and I guarantee the strategies you'll develop to cope with the unique challenges of a timed event will serve you well in many areas of life both on and off a race course.

So which do you prefer - time or distance? If you've never done a time-based race, do you think you'd try one? Let me know in the comments below!