I went out afoot in the dirt on Sunday for the first time in more than three weeks. Why so long, you ask. Well, I had been traveling, but mainly it was the result of Pop & Whoosh (see below). Regardless of how I got to this point, I did. Trying to recapture some spark, I decided to do a little exploring to the east. I had seen Sullivan Canyon from the air, it looked inviting, and exploratory events tend to be interesting.
As a result of my sedentary lifestyle for the last few weeks, within the first we steps, I was generating lung butter to beat the band. Seeing as how I was doing an out-and-back type of run, I figured I could mark my trail with the chunks.
Along the way, I saw no people, heard no motors, and only saw birds. During the many times I stopped, the silence was profound, once you eliminated my laborious breathing.
My return route was punctuated with my constant mantra of "Follow The Yellow Phlegm Road" as I watched for my markers, and footprints.
As a result of my sedentary lifestyle for the last few weeks, within the first we steps, I was generating lung butter to beat the band. Seeing as how I was doing an out-and-back type of run, I figured I could mark my trail with the chunks.
Along the way, I saw no people, heard no motors, and only saw birds. During the many times I stopped, the silence was profound, once you eliminated my laborious breathing.
My return route was punctuated with my constant mantra of "Follow The Yellow Phlegm Road" as I watched for my markers, and footprints.
Sullivan Canyon
Sullivan Canyon itself was worth it. Going down was entertaining, and, while making my slow way back up, I though about nonsensical comparisons of canyon to person (in Angela Sullivan) instead of the nagging and incessant pains I was by then experiencing:
Characteristic Fun Sunny Cold Curvy Tough Challenging Quiet Runs east/west Difficult accessibility | Sullivan Canyon Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Can be | Angela Sullivan Yes Yes - always No way! Um, yes, but I tried not to look, I swear! Definitely Have you ever done her yoga class? 'Nuff said. Sometimes :-) If that's the way the trail goes Nope |
I'm sure there are more comparisons that could be made, but that was enough to get me back to the top. If you know Angela, or another Sullivan, feel free to create your own comparison table.
The turn from Eldorado Canyon is not marked, nor obvious. Sullivan Canyon is the right turn.
Sullivan Canyon
Pop & Whoosh
"Pop" and "whoosh" are noises not normally associated with trail running, and in a sense, they still aren't. However, as it relates in this case, they are the sounds I associate to January 21 – the day I lost my already-wavering motivation. Let me describe it. I understand the description might stretch credibility, but whatever. Suspend your disbelief for a few and humor me.
There I was, sitting in a Starbucks with my homies, Motivation, Annual Goal Attainment, and Nascent Existentialist Depression. I was slamming my second (or was it my third?) venti Komodo and working; I can't exactly say what the rest were doing, but they were there with me. Probably eating coffee cake.
Anyway, there we were, and in walks Soul-Crushing Reality.He's a big, ugly brute. Not someone you'd want to meet under any circumstances, let alone working a weekend, two thousand miles from home. He didn't say a word: just glared at me. Motivation saw the look, my reaction, and - as they would have said 40 years ago - split the scene.
Now's the time for a little physics lesson. As something evacuates a space, the air surrounding it collapses to fill the newly created void - the normal process of actualizing a pressure differential. This typically goes unnoticed, except on a large, slow scale, where wind is created or a smaller (yet still large) scale, where lightning rips the atmosphere and the air returning is heard as thunder.
On a small scale, if something evacuates fast enough, the air replacement can be heard as a popping sound. My buddy Motivation disappeared so fast, the pop was plainly audible.
Annual Goal Attainment was quietly picking his nose and examining the results when he heard the pop. He looked up and saw the door swinging shut behind Motivation. "Hey... hey! Wait for me!" and with an audible whoosh, Annual Goal Attainment was likewise gone, leaving me only with Nascent Existential Depression for company. Swell.
I was hoping that getting out again would revitalize my motivation and bring the guys back. The jury's still out on that. If I had turned around at the point when I felt great, and finished strong, I might have had done so. Unfortunately, that point came at around 25% of the total distance. Should have listened. Motivation and mood dissipated as distance increased – lung-butter fun notwithstanding. I walked the last 40% of the journey. That, my friends, is demotivating.
There I was, sitting in a Starbucks with my homies, Motivation, Annual Goal Attainment, and Nascent Existentialist Depression. I was slamming my second (or was it my third?) venti Komodo and working; I can't exactly say what the rest were doing, but they were there with me. Probably eating coffee cake.
Anyway, there we were, and in walks Soul-Crushing Reality.He's a big, ugly brute. Not someone you'd want to meet under any circumstances, let alone working a weekend, two thousand miles from home. He didn't say a word: just glared at me. Motivation saw the look, my reaction, and - as they would have said 40 years ago - split the scene.
Now's the time for a little physics lesson. As something evacuates a space, the air surrounding it collapses to fill the newly created void - the normal process of actualizing a pressure differential. This typically goes unnoticed, except on a large, slow scale, where wind is created or a smaller (yet still large) scale, where lightning rips the atmosphere and the air returning is heard as thunder.
On a small scale, if something evacuates fast enough, the air replacement can be heard as a popping sound. My buddy Motivation disappeared so fast, the pop was plainly audible.
Annual Goal Attainment was quietly picking his nose and examining the results when he heard the pop. He looked up and saw the door swinging shut behind Motivation. "Hey... hey! Wait for me!" and with an audible whoosh, Annual Goal Attainment was likewise gone, leaving me only with Nascent Existential Depression for company. Swell.
I was hoping that getting out again would revitalize my motivation and bring the guys back. The jury's still out on that. If I had turned around at the point when I felt great, and finished strong, I might have had done so. Unfortunately, that point came at around 25% of the total distance. Should have listened. Motivation and mood dissipated as distance increased – lung-butter fun notwithstanding. I walked the last 40% of the journey. That, my friends, is demotivating.
Despite the beauty of the area, the solitude and spectacular weather, be glad you didn't participate in my phlegm-fest, you'd have been frustrated by incessantly waiting for my slow ass, and grossed out by the constant hacking. As for the title, that's how I answered the question of "How did your run go?" upon my return to civilization.
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