Training Log Archive: Orunner

I was concerned about running today. I ran yesterday and Steve plans to do 10 miles tomorrow. I want to do a challenging course. But the Brown is too short and the Green too long. Something about mid way would have been perfect. I did not want to be out and on the run for more than an hour.

I chose the Green and hoped for a easy course. Oh my.

The navigation was challenging and fun. But the forest is thick. right from the git-go I am ducking and arm blocking Honey Suckle and saplings. Visibility was poor. Run-ability was negligible.

I ran out of gas at about 45 minutes. With another 24 to go my running slowed, my mind failed. Yet I enjoyed the experience and have no regrets. It was fun.

While cooling down, not hard to to in chilled rain, I conversed with my fellow Orienteering friends, ate a couple cookies, and changed into dry cloths. Then, heading back home, I drove directly into a convoy of police vehicles, black SUVs, and raincoat clad traffic cops. For about five minutes I sat watching the parade come directly at me and turn into the rear Withrow Court. I presume it was the arrival of the First Lady. Fun stuff.

OCIN_MUNA_Nov_2012_Green - Splits

Wednesday as we turned south off the west end of Black Street Bridge we encountered road closed signs. Not knowing the details and having few other options we continued South in the dark through the 19th century industrial canyon of the former Champion Paper facility. The buildings lining both the west and east sides of the street once housed the worlds first and foremost coated paper manufacturer in the world. At one time most of the Great Smoky Mountains was owned and slated for lumbering by a titan form Hamilton. Now the buildings are quiet. The machinery antiquated and idle. Several investors have made scavenging moves to profit from the final days of a once great enterprise.

Steve mentioned he may have read that a business was removing equipment. We jokingly ran down the center of B Street. With no traffic, no people, no nature, it was serene and peaceful. Way ahead in the dark I made out an over-sized forklift drive across the road with a huge bundled load. As we got closer I could see that the load consisted of large pipe; 20 feet long and one and two feet in diameter. I glanced about and realized that the ladder bridge which ran parallel with the street and crossed over supporting steam, process, and electrical piping, was now missing. 18 years ago, during a prior time in my life, my company was involved in assembly portions of this structure which carried power and data betwixt the various areas of the plant. Now it was coming down. I quietly hoped that it was sold to be reused in a new birth somewhere to the ultimate profit and improvement of our economy. I also hoped we did not encounter a red neck obstacle demanding to limit our path back to the center of town.

Perhaps we were lucky that day. We passed by without conflict. And I duly forgot the incident until this morning.

Today, two days later, we crossed over the bridge and saw the road closure signs. Again it was predawn and quite dark. But a quarter mile south we could see a crane sitting in the center of the road. Other heavy trucks were parked to the right and left. Initially I saw no movement. The path to the right was tight. But to the left there was 40 or so feet of open space between the trucks and the building. We swerved left and planted our feet along the rail tracks. Shadows emerged from behind the trucks. Hard hats. Padded jackets. Steel tip boots. A hand went up and toward us like a school crossing guard with no other purpose in life.

Dialog erupted. And although I disagreed with the need, it was obvious the men would not let us pass. And so we double backed with no choices but to return the way came, retracing our steps to and across the bridge. We run measured routes. We keep our times. We record our improvement or lack there of each day we run. But today we would run an unknown distance. Steve and I analyzed the detour and adjusted the return as best we could until we once again were back on familiar ground.

We may have nailed it exactly, but surely it was very close.

The ankle pain was very minor today. Of course, its all relative. First of all it has been these past two weeks fairly severe. But second, I could feel my arthritic hips this morning. I have not noticed them since before the ankle sprain. So "Good News" world. I can feel my arthritis again. Hallelujah.

Steve was feeling poorly this morning. We might have done a bit faster running otherwise. I was feeling game. But he was taking my normal role of checking our pace. Its about time that he was the gimp. :)

What should be an easy run took some effort. The ankle is heeling. But as the roar of ankle pain lightens up, undertones of otherwise unnoticed melodies come forward. A muscle or tendon aches from my ankle, up the shin, past the knee, through the hamstring, and into the ham itself. I suspect the injury has been there for three weeks; occurring during one of the three turns the ankle took at the Niagara Escarpment. But only now do I hear its voice and consider its opinions. Unfortunately it speaks with every footfall. Like my love of the political Robocalls, I want to say, "I've heard you. stop already!"