Being freed from work, like a wild bird escaping a cage, I fled to the woods. I had almost forgotten how much I love running the trail that follows the Willamette River in the Mollala River State Park. A few years ago I came here nearly every day with my dogs and we would run and hike the trails, play in the water, and explore the underbrush. There was a regular group of us. Funny, I can remember the dogs easily enough: Raven, Shiloh, and Mickey. But it took me a lot of thought to match the human names with their canine companions: Jim, Red, and Carol. Thinking back to those days, with my wolfhound Tonks who I lost to cancer 2 years ago, and my goofball Hugo, it made me a little melancholy for times gone by, and a companion lost. But the park hadn't changed much.
It is a narrow path, more overgrown than it used to be, that twists and turns, dips and rises, over fallen logs, under downed trees. Damp, packed dirt under my favorite running shoes, a canopy of giant trees above my head, rainforest dense underbrush hiding a plethora of small, woodland creatures. The air feels thick with newly produced oxygen, loaded with positive ions from the wind blowing across millions of fir needles. The air is so loaded it acts like a performance enhancing drug in my system. I run slow and easy. The narrow, winding path doesn't allow for anything else. I am so relaxed, yet alert. In my mind I can imagine ultra-endurance trail running, or that I have slipped back in time a thousand years and am running through the woods to carry tribal lore from one small village to the next. I run easy. I feel like I can run forever. But I know better. I know better than to over-do it on my poor body, which has had a helluva time recovering from a continual array of pain and injury. My run was only about three miles, but it was an excellent three miles.
A powerful run left me still wanting to burn energy. Of course I had my swim bag, and had planned to hit the pool. Today I decided to do The One Hour Challenge: How far can you swim in 60 minutes. I warmed up with 500 yards of mixed strokes: breast, back, and crawl. Then I slipped into my I-can-do-this-all-day pace. Lap after lap, letting my mind wander. Today was a good day for this, I had been enjoying being inside my own head from the moment I escaped work. I hadn't even turned on music in the car, enjoying silence instead. Lap after lap. At about lap 55 I was feeling a little bit of fatigue in my shoulders, so, being the weirdo that I am, I decided to pick up the pace a little. Besides, this really does help train for a strong finish when racing, and I thought I was only a few laps from the end. I had expected to swim about 1 minute laps so at lap 60 I checked the clock and was surprised to see that I still had about 10 minutes. So I swam on, still pushing myself, really putting some power behind my strokes. I ended up swimming 70 laps = 3500 yards = 1.989 miles. I was pleased with myself for sure. Finished up with a 250 yard cool-down. Total swim 4250 yards = 2.41 miles. A good swim. I do think I will add this swim into the rotation about every 3rd week, it is a good way to measure progress.
Of course, I followed my swim with the now mandatory 30 minute leg work in the water. I am convinced that this hydro physical therapy is what let me run the Freedom 5K with little joint pain. And it is likely why I am not having joint pain in the days after the race. Yes, It was a slow run for me. My asthma kicked up about mile 2 so I had to slow to a brisk walk a couple of times to get my breathing under control. And it was my first 5K run since the same event last year. I have been too damaged to run in the last year. Now I am thinking/hoping/wishing that I have figured out how to run again without damaging myself. Only time, and more running, will tell. For the moment, I am just stoked to have rediscovered the trail along the river.
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