“Think now history has many
cunning passages, contrived corridors, and issues, deceives with whispering
ambitions, guides us by vanities. …The tiger springs in the
new year. Us he devours.” another new year startled us
today. somewhere between the late night meandering into a warm bed, after the
clock already struck a replayed chime marking the change of calendar (for, we
can DVR the change of year and play it in every time zone,) and after the
morning coffee, sunrise, prayers, or routines—the time has changed, and so have
we. the Wasatch is a flurry, the
new recreational pursuits settling into it as the heavy snow settles onto it.
it has been a dense year of both snow and increased use of the snow. although this mountain range
sits above a major metropolitan area, it retains pockets of wild refuge still
hidden from its’ own mountain refugees. these pockets of frozen time are still
filled with change. no man steps into the same Wasatch twice, for it is not the
same Wasatch, nor is it the…
It's been said to us climbers that what we do is dangerous, and irresponsible. How could we risk our lives like this? And distance trail running, if it compromises our health why do it? How dare we take that time away from our families? And yet, to even make mention about a different lifestyle, one of weight, obesity, and all of the very dangerous and risky components it involves is socially disgraceful, insensitive, and cruel. I bring this up only to show how much weight, in general, is not "ok" to talk about. It's a sensitive subject, even, no, especially, for those of us already at a healthy weight who use our bodies to their fullest daily...
Now, this blog is about running, ain't it? Yep. So while there's a lot of "weight" we could cover in this "weighty" area, we'll just go over one. Running.
Running and weight are intertwined. I'd like to say that this post is primarily for the ladies, because we typically store more weight t…
it seems like the last few years I've aged, and I've grown. I lost my identity as a runner. if I didn't run frequently, if I wasn't in the mountains, if I wasn't pushing my own limits, what was I?
I'd retained the identity as a mother, daughter, sibling, friend, student of literature and wilderness. this was a shift - less time, less comments, less messages with the running community that I didn't know well, a deepening of friendships and relationships with those closest to me.
it felt odd, going into standhope. I didn't have goals, I wasn't sure where I was at with running, I wasn't in shape for racing. I had this idealism, that if I raced hard, I could inspire others, not to run, but to pursue life with passion. but, what about when I can't race hard? when life is racing too hard for me to train?
earlier this year my Dad was diagnosed with mantle cell lymphoma. visits to the hunstman increased, my mileage decreased. when looking at anoth…