Tag Archives: karma

Volunteering: Pride Goeth Before

Philosophical question for you all: If a guy falls off his bike in the woods, and there’s no one around to see it, does it still hurt?

The answer in my case is, yes.

I’ve been enjoying my new role this year as a volunteer Ambassador for the Sleeping Bear Heritage Trail (SBHT), which runs along the National Lakeshore from Empire to Glen Arbor, then northeast though the Port Oneida Historic District. The current total length is 22 miles, with one more five-mile segment to go, which will reach the end of the National Lakeshore property near the Good Harbor Trail.

Being an Ambassador means traveling the SBHT on foot or by bike in a fancy orange vest, picking up litter, checking trail conditions, and answering questions from people on the trail. I get to choose my hours and which parts of the trail I want to cover.

On the job at the Dune Climb.

I’ve done this many times this summer, and believe me, I’m worth every penny they pay me. Which is none. I haven’t even found a penny on the trail yet, so this is truly a labor of love.

I make up for this by giving people at least one incorrect piece of information every time I’m out there. Like last weekend, when I told someone the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive was still closed – only to find they’d opened it for three days behind my back. Why don’t they TELL ME these things?

Not that I’m complaining. I’m out on the trail anyway when I go up north, so why not get some volunteering done at the same time?

And thus I found myself cruising the section near the Dune Climb one afternoon, and passed by a bright red piece of plastic I took to be trash. I slowed down and put my bike into a tight left turn to go back and fetch said trash. But I’d unclipped only my right foot, and thus when I began to tip too much during the turn, my still clipped-in left foot was unable to save me.

What followed was that helpless feeling I’ve written about before – you know you’re going down and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. I suffered bruises to my left elbow, left hip, and ego, not necessarily in that order. Otherwise intact, I remounted and continued the ride. So no lasting harm done.

And the red trash? Actually a marker flag. Probably a utility indicator. So I left it there, and it remains there still. Fool me once and all that.

Other than the occasional unfortunate incident, I’m having a great time. The trail is beautiful and a great way to get in a long ride without getting on M109 and M22, both of which can feature heavy, fast-moving traffic, including logging trucks and other such monstrosities. And stopping in Glen Arbor for coffee and/or ice cream is a great way to take a break from my hot, sweaty, trail labors.

And for those of you wondering how I’m recovering from said fall? Just fine, thank you. In fact, this morning I tripped during my morning run and bruised elbow and hip on my right side. I suppose it was inevitable – the karma was achieving balance.

P.S. This time I was with other people. And it also hurt. Just another data point.

The Perils of Pacing: Race Recap, ShamRock ‘n Roll

KARMIC RETRIBUTION. That must be it.

As payback for my perfect-weather Dances With Dirt race last week in Florida, Nature turned the polar vortex back on for this morning’s ShamRock ‘n Roll 10K. In another tweak of cruel irony, the race is part of the Kona Running series – hardly a name that evokes sub-zero wind chills.

But I’d volunteered to pace it, so I pulled on two pairs of tights, slipped a green shirt over my Heater Hog and wind jacket, and headed to Kellogg Park in Plymouth. And to my surprise (well, not really) the turnout was as strong as ever and the costumes just as wild. There were so many runners that wave starts were used for both the 10K and 5K.

I warned you.

I warned you.

Larry, the pace organizer (among other duties) gave us some advice before the start. “We know there’s black ice out there,” he said. “So don’t worry so much about sticking to your time. Just line up in the proper spot and be safe out there.”

I was grateful he said that. Because I apparently wasn’t done paying for the great experience last week.

Cold - No problem - we're PR Fitness!

Cold? No problem – we’re PR Fitness!

For the first time in a Kona race, I paced solo. Usually Larry assigns two or three people per time, but understandably he was a few pacers short today. So I took the 52 minute sign and assumed my place in the starting queue. The horn sounded at 7:30 and off we went.

I started in the back of the first wave, so I had to work through the crowd for about a half mile to get to my target pace of 8:23 per mile. And just as I was settling in, my right shoe came untied. I’ve run with an untied shoe before – even set a 5K PR that way – and my hands were numb despite the double gloves, so I stuck it out a while.

By the end of mile 2 my hands had thawed, so I pulled over. Procedure: Put sign down. Take off two sets of gloves. Tie shoe, with double knot. Put gloves back on. Pick up sign. Resume running, faster, so I can catch up. This wasn’t a problem for me, but it meant I was passing a lot of people. “I thought you were [already] ahead of me,” a woman said as I went by.

Now I felt guilty; the runners around me may not have been as fast or as fit as I am, but they were working hard. It couldn’t have been encouraging to see a pacer pass them. But it was only until I got back on target. As the end of mile 4 approached, I was just about there – and then my left shoe came untied.

This time I stopped right away and duplicated the above routine, except for jamming on the gloves rather than fitting them on right. And I was determined not to embarrass more runners, so I lowered the sign and took off in a sprint. After a bit I glanced at my watch to see when to slow down – and it had shut off. Battery failure.

Bundled up but rarin' to go! The 5K starts.

Bundled up but rarin’ to go! The 5K starts.

Now there was nothing for it but to make it look good. So I slowed down and just winged it, and headed toward the finish line with head and sign held high. And after all that, I finished at the 53:26 mark. Given I’d crossed the start line over a minute after the gun, I was remarkably close to target. Maybe the cosmic spirit likes me after all.

Right afterward, someone came up to me. “Thanks for keeping the pace,” he said.

“Hey, no problem,” I replied.

Me with another famous "Shoelace", Denard Robinson. Taught him everything he knows about running with untied shoes.

Me with another famous “Shoelace”, Denard Robinson. Taught him everything he knows about running with untied shoes.