Nice Place to Run: Cedar Hill State Park

GWB, not at Cedar Hill.

After last week's failed attempt to run at Cedar Hill State Park, I decided to return to check out these trails.  I have heard first-hand accounts of other runners meeting George W. Bush out here.  Apparently this is a favorite mountain biking trail for him.

Picture credit: havingfuninthetexassun.com

The trails are well maintained by DORBA, and perfectly suited for mountain biking.  That is mostly a plus for trail runners.  The surfaces are generally smooth, with a few rocks and roots to keep you alert, but not too many.  There are a few climbs and drops that keep things interesting on a bike.  For runners, there is nothing that gets very technical.  Unlike other popular mountain biking trails I've run on, like Lake Grapvine's north shore or Cameron Park in Waco, and on the neighboring this trail never had me pulling up with my hands or jumping down stair-like rocks.

At some points in the trail, the mountain bike nature of the trail got to me.  At some of the winding portions, the trail banks, which is great going downhill on a bike, but not as much fun running.  I felt like someone driving the family minivan on the curves at Texas Motor Speeday; when the race cars take the curve at 180, they stay right up there, but when a minivan tries, topped out at 65, it runs the danger of flipping or slipping to its doom.  Also, some portions of the trail are in a deep vee, which, again, is probably perfect for 2 inch bike tires, but puts the runner in a position between carefully lining up his feet in single-file, or running along the edges.

Picture credit: cedarhillstatepark.org

Sorry, that sounds like I'm whining.  I don't mean to.  All in all, I really like this trail.  Almost all single track, all runnable, views of the lake, thick woods, meadows, easy to get to.  It's a great place.  This should definitely top your list if you're looking for a spot for a long training run to get in some good miles without too much technical trail.  There are 3 loops, posted as 3, 8, and 12 miles (my Garmin said 11.17, but I suspect there was some tree interference).  And when you visit, tell the nice dude at the ranger station I said hi!

Memo to the dude at Cedar Hill S.P.

Hey, I'm really glad you're there.  I love the state parks, and love the commitment that state parks employees like you have for keeping these strongholds of nature and recreation up and running for regular city people like me. 

Last night when I stopped in to visit Cedar Hill State Park, you were very friendly and efficient in renewing my state park pass.  Then when I told you this was my first visit to CHSP, and asked directions to the trail head for the DORBA trails, you gave clear, efficient directions. 

Image stolen from DallasHiker.com

So I drove the 2 1/2 miles or so to the trail head, only to discover that the trails were closed!  Couldn't you have told me that when I told you I was there for the trails?  Maybe you could have mentioned that the trails were closed when I asked directions to the trail head? 

It's not that big a deal.  I drove over to Cedar Ridge, thinking I might still get a run in.  But Cedar Ridge closes at 8:30, so I would only have had time to run for 20-25 minutes.  So I went to Chipotle instead.

I'll go back to Cedar Ridge sometime.  It looks lovely, with views of Joe Pool Lake, the hills, and of course the DORBA trails.  Now that my state park pass is renewed, I'll definitely pay you a visit. And maybe next time I'll call the automated line, (972) 291-3900, for trail conditions first!

See you then!

A kick in the butt from the Grit Doctor

Sometimes we need someone to kick us in the behind and get us moving.  If we are to believe the news reports of the ever-growing problem of obesity in the United States, many of us need some encouragement.  That's exactly what Ruth Field, a.k.a., The Grit Doctor, gives the readers of her book Get Off Your A-- and Run! A Tough-Love Running Program for Losing the Excuses and the Weight.  (This is the U.S version of her U.K. release, Run Fat B---h Run.) (She doesn't obscure the naughty words.  This is a family blog, so I have chosen to redact her words. . . .)

Field takes a basic, no-nonsense approach to get the non-runner out the door.  Her premise is that anyone can do it.  Her plan is pretty basic: start walking for an hour and a half, several days a week.  Eventually start jogging part of it.  She's realistic about the fact that it won't be easy to get started: "Embracing the fact that this is going to be hard is the only cure for the terminally unmotivated."  And she's not out to make you into a speed demon: "Go slow.  Go slower.  As slowly as is humanly possible.  The aim is to go as slowly as you can for as long as you can without having to stop.  As soon as you have to stop, it is time to walk, not to sit down . . ."  Sound advice for beginning runners who give up too quickly because they go too fast.

Her focus is on women who are inactive, especially those who want to lose some weight.  Her basic formula: "run, eat less junk, lose weight."  I totally agree with her.  Too many weight loss plans focus on a special diet, and underemphasize physical activity.  She writes that as we become more active, we will naturally gravitate toward better foods.  I think she's overly simplistic on this point, but then I was pretty convicted on the hard line she takes on candy and soft drinks: "Frankly, as an adult, you should be ashamed of yourself if you are still buying candy and soda on a weekly basis.  Stop it now."

I might have to try one of her motivational methods: "When I want to lost a few pounds urgently, I look in the mirror early in the morning--pre-shower, no makeup, and with my entire naked body in view--and I repeat to myself over and over again, 'You fat b---h.'  I then glance immediately at Cameron Diaz or another equally buff celeb in a bikini. . . and the mantra begins to take on a life of its own."  Whatever works, right?

Get Off Your A-- and Run! is certainly geared toward the beginner runner.  I guess she figures there are plenty of books on the market that go into more detail about splits and training plans.  She talks about running intervals, and long runs, but is pretty casual about times.  "Fooling around with stopwatches is generally better for wasting time than tracking it.  Just mix up your speed during your regular runs and don't worry about the exact times."  I enjoyed her breezy, get-to-it style.  She leaves the non-runner with no excuses.

She sums it up nicely: "If you take only three things from this book, let it be these: Run. Drink more water. Eat less crap.  You. Can. Do. It."  If most long-time runners are anything like me, it doesn't hurt to be reminded of these three basic rules.  Field is a motivational running coach with attitude, and has little patience for those of us who can't seem to get off the couch.  Run!

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!

The Ghost Runner, by Bill Jones

There are runners, and there are people obsessed with running, and then there are the runners who go way beyond what any other runner can and will do.  I am not sure I have ever read of anyone as committed to running as John Tarrant, and who gave up so much for the sport.  In The Ghost Runner: The Epic Journey of the Man They Couldn't Stop, Bill Jones tells Tarrant's story, a tragic tale of a guy whose way to short life had way too much frustration and loss for one runner to bear.

Well, maybe that's overstating the case.  But read The Ghost Runner and you'll see what I'm talking about.  After being sent away to a grim boarding school during WW2, and losing his mother shortly after the war, the teenage Tarrant took up, among other things, boxing.  He had decent athleticism and enjoyed modest success.  In less than two year, "he'd fought just eight times, pocketing a grand total of seventeen pounds."  His "informal recompense fell way short of the costs Tarrant was incurring" traveling by bus to a nearby town to train.  "It was pocket money and nothing more. . . . John's boxing had already cost him far more than he'd ever earned from it."

Later, as John began running, he revealed that "professional" boxing career when asked whether he had ever competed professionally in athletics.  Honest to a fault, Tarrant dutifully revealed his compensation.  Thus began a decades-long battle against amateur athletic officials.  A world-class runner, Tarrant dreamed of the Olympics.  He ran in races around England, but, prohibited from entering due to his "professional" status, he arrived in disguise, throwing off his coat and hat and jumping into the fray just as the race began.  Race officials tried to chase him down, but Tarrant was too fast (and in at least one case, Tarrant's brother Victor aggressively drove officials away, nearly running them down with his motorcycle).

No number for the ghost runner, and no official recognition, even when he won.

Determined to win, thinking that, even when race officials and results refuse to acknowledge his presence, they can't ignore him if he crosses the line first, Tarrant trained constantly.  He ran to work, ran at lunch, ran after work, ran monster runs on the weekends.  He eventually began to enter longer races, setting world records in the 40 mile and 100 mile distances.  The Comrades ultramarathon in South Africa became his obsession, leading to him living there for months at a time in order to train and enter the race.

British authorities eventually gave him status to race officially in the U.K., but international racing was out.  He ghost ran Comrades, a race in New York, and countless races in England and South Africa.  His faithful wife was a running widow, allowing him room to train continually, use their limited money and time to travel to races, and even to live abroad to pursue his dream of winning Comrades.  (I feel bad leaving for the day to run a race; I can't imagine leaving for a year.)

His life was marked by frustration.  His battle with the amateur athletics authorities went on and on.  Some of his fellow runners and friends said he talked of nothing else, and talked about it a lot.  He would have loved nothing more than to run for his country in international races, but he never could, officially.  He battled stomach problems that crippled him, knocking him out of several races (yet he would win races and set course records sometimes, in spite of his having to take breaks to drop his pants in the bushes beside the course!).  And after four attempts, he never did win Comrades.

Yet the man did love to run.  His drive and commitment simply to run are inspiring.  I would love to run like Tarrant: In the hilly countryside around his home, "there were days when he never even felt tired, when he felt he could run forever, never happier than when climbing steeply, . . . his thoughts a whir of self-imposed times and challenges, the landscape a succession of gateposts, junctions, and landmarks which he reached faster, and with less effort, every time he wrenched on his pumps and braved the hilly air."

Jones captures Tarrant's joy and frustration in The Ghost Runner.  He doesn't dwell on conclusions about Tarrant's treatment by athletic officials; the reader can clearly see that Tarrant's cause was just, his treatment was deplorable, and times quickly changed.  Tarrant died in 1975 at the tragically young age of 42.  With a few short years, the farce of amateurism had ended.  What a shame that Tarrant did not live to see it.  On many levels, Jones inspires awe and admiration for a great runner and a great man.

Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!

Toughest in Texas 20 mile race report

I've said it before and I'll say it again: residents of Waco are lucky to have Cameron Park right there in the city.  The park boasts miles and miles of trails, making it a playground for trail runners, mountain bikers, hikers, horseback riders, as well as casual walkers and nature lovers.  The trails are well-maintained single track, and the views from the bluff are terrific.  So I was delighted to return today for the Toughest in Texas Trail Runs.  I ran the 50K there 2 years ago; today the 20 mile race was more than enough for me.

The TNT Trail Runs, hosted by Waco native and Houston-based running coach Tim Neckar (runnerone.com), feature the best of the Cameron Park trails.  Tim puts on a great race, with well-supported aid stations and a clearly marked route.  Tim offers the 50K, 20 mile, 10 mile, and 5 mile distances, so trail runners at any level can enjoy the race.

My brother Mark and I started out together on the 20 mile race at 7:30.  The rather small field of 20 milers took off, with a couple of guys bolting out at the start.  We thought surely they'd falter, but they actually finished well.  The order of finishers, at least for the leaders, seems to have been the same as the order of starters.

I ran with Mark for 3 or four miles, to the first aid station.  But after that he began to put some separation between us.  I was reminded that he is much stronger on the uphills.  He took off ahead of me and ended up finishing over half an hour before me.  I guess there's no shame in losing to my faster, fitter, slimmer, younger brother.  (I still have him beat on the road marathon P.R., though!)

Not the actual snake I saw. Photo credit: http://www.copperhead-snake.com/

Once Mark left me, I ran alone.  A few of the 10 mile runners passed me near the end of the first lap, I passed a couple of 50K walkers early in the second lap, and I saw several other random bikers and hikers.  One other companion on the trail was a copperhead snake (as best I could tell).  He was planted in the middle of the trail.  I figured he would scurry away, but he just sat there looking at me.  I got a very long branch and poked it, again thinking he would flee.  I finally picked it up with the stick and set it beside the trail, then hurried past.  He wasn't too interest in me, thankfully.

After the second trudge up Jacob's Ladder, I finally finished in 4:36, good enough for 5th male overall.  That was about 20 minutes slower than my first 2 laps in 2011.  Today I was quite happy to be done, not heading out for the third lap.  The burgers and beans hit the spot, and there's nothing better than a cold Dr Pepper after 20 miles on the trail on a warm day.

Once again, many thanks to Tim for putting this race together.  Race or not, the trails at Cameron Park are worth a visit.  Here's a video a mountain biker took which shows a bit of the flavor of the trails. (Posted on YouTube by Jim Olmsted.  Thanks, Jim.)

Water bottle etiquette on the trail

The other day when I was running at Cedar Ridge Preserve, my hands got really cold, so I left my water bottle, which was full of ice and water, next to the trail.  I figured I would circle back to my car to get my gloves, then on my next loop on the trail I'd pick up my bottle.

With my hands warmer, and with a pretty good thirst worked up an hour or so later, I came back to that section of trail.  My bottle had disappeared.  Did I forget where I had left it?  Did some other thirsty runner pick it up?  Did the trail patrol throw it in the trash?  I didn't figure there was any way I had missed it, so detoured by the visitor center near the parking area and found it perched on the donation box.

The bottle and I were happily reunited, but it made me wonder about bottle etiquette.

Litter. Throw it away.

If I find a personal item like car keys or a wallet by the side of the trail, I think the best thing to do would be to take it back to the trail head.  Surely someone wouldn't leave something like that out on the trail intentionally.

Not litter.  Leave it there.

If I see an empty, disposable water bottle by the trail, especially if it's empty, picking it up and tossing it in a trash or recycling bin would be the reasonable choice.

But a nearly full, non-disposable bottle, with ice still in it, in a hand-held carrier?  I would not think someone dropped it and didn't notice.  I would not think that someone tossed it as trash.  The only reasonable explanation would seem to be that someone left it there intending to come back for it.  I detest trail litter as much as the next guy, but when something is clearly not litter, I leave it alone.

Am I right or am I wrong?  What do you think?

Running Naked (of electronics)

This morning I headed out to Cedar Ridge Preserve. I hadn't been there in a while, but this is one of my favorites.  It has varied terrain, several technical sections to practice climbs and descents over rocks and roots, as well as some clearer, wider ups and downs you can cruise on.  There are not many level sections to run on!  Plus, there are no mountain bikes allowed!

I strapped on my Garmin, turned it on when I was a few minutes away, and got the "low battery" warning.  By the time I got there, it was completely dead.  I checked my start and stop times, and added up the miles on the map to get a rough idea of the distance I had run, so I could at least have some sort of record.  I also ran without my iPod.  When I run on the streets at home, I usually listed to podcasts or audiobooks.  On a trail run, I usually run without it, so I can hear the animals sneaking up on me.

I know I should be less dependent on electronics. Experienced runners can monitor their pace by perceived effort, without relying on a GPS watch. And true runners don't need to be distracted or preoccupied by an iPod; they they meditatively commune with nature and their own.  I suppose it does me good to run naked every now and then, but I felt, well, naked, without my electronic companions.