From Personal Crisis to Industry Mission: A Data-Driven Call for Wilderness Medicine Education

 

The Perfect Storm: When Personal Experience Meets Statistical Reality

In 2004, when I broke my femur during what should have been a routine adventure at Lake Powell, I became one small data point in a much larger story—one that I wouldn't fully understand until two decades later when I joined AdventureMed. That harrowing three-hour boat ride to safety, where our friend's father—a certified Wilderness First Responder—literally saved my life using what I now know as M.A.R.C.H. protocols, wasn't just a personal turning point. It was my introduction to a growing trend in outdoor safety that the data now makes impossible to ignore.

The Numbers Tell a Sobering Story

My 30-year career in technology has taught me that behind every compelling personal story lies data that reveals broader patterns. The statistics surrounding outdoor recreation injuries paint a picture that should concern anyone who cares about human safety in wilderness settings:

The NIH's comprehensive 5-year study (2007-2011) analyzing EMS reports across 7 National Park regions revealed a baseline of 45.9 emergency events per 1 million visitors. These weren't minor incidents—29% were medical emergencies, 28% traumatic injuries, and 43% required immediate first aid. Most sobering of all, 61.4% of fatalities were traumatic in nature.

But here's where the story becomes urgent: these baseline numbers preceded the outdoor recreation boom.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, as everyone flocked to the outdoors seeking solace and adventure, injury rates increased by 20% in 2021. By 2022, the outdoor participant base had grown 2.3% to a record 168.1 million participants—representing 55% of the US population aged six and older. Even more striking, 80% of outdoor activity categories experienced growth, from large segments like camping and fishing to specialized pursuits like sport climbing and skateboarding.

The Demographic Amplifier

The demographic trends add another layer of complexity to this challenge. Millennials became the largest generation in the U.S. in 2019, numbering 72.1 million compared to 71.6 million Baby Boomers. This generation, raised in an increasingly digital world, is seeking authentic outdoor experiences—often without the wilderness skills and medical knowledge that previous generations might have possessed.

When I analyze this data through my technology lens, I see a classic scaling problem: rapidly increasing demand (outdoor participation) meeting insufficient supply (wilderness medicine education and preparedness).

Where Technology Meets Human Performance Under Pressure

My journey from that broken femur in 2004 to fighting a life-threatening staph infection in 2010 taught me something profound about the intersection of data and human resilience. During my recovery, I essentially became a data scientist of my own healing process, tracking wound healing rates, medication schedules, physical therapy progress, and crucially, mental and emotional resilience markers.

This experience fundamentally changed how I approached leadership in technology. At AWS, where I grew and guided teams through major reorganizations, I learned that leading through corporate transformation isn't fundamentally different from leading through medical crisis—both require honest communication, genuine care for your team, and the courage to make decisions when everything is on the line.

The wilderness medicine community embodies this same principle. Whether coordinating care during my own medical emergency or helping customers generate meteoric growth in data and analytics services at AWS, the core challenge remains constant: how do we help people perform better and achieve outcomes they didn't think were possible, especially under pressure?

Why the WMS Summer Conference Resonates So Deeply

Looking at the Wilderness Medical Society Summer Conference schedule for July 20-24, I’m excited for everyone who’s gathering and the ensuing camaraderie and conversations! I'm also looking forward to some of the sessions that align with both my personal journey and the statistical reality we're facing:

"Human Reaction to Critical Events & Psychological Resilience" speaks directly to my experience of processing trauma while maintaining leadership capacity. The psychological component of wilderness emergencies—both for patients and responders—is often overlooked but critically important.

"Event Medicine: Keeping the Races Running & the Festivals Festive" connects to my experience as the Director of Volunteers for the 2002 Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon and as an ultra-runner who completed Leadville 100 just 18 months after nearly losing my leg. Having been on both sides of event medical emergencies, I understand the complex logistics of keeping people safe during the very activities that are growing exponentially.

"Tactical Emergency Casualty Care" represents the kind of high-stakes team leadership I've experienced in both corporate transformations and medical crises. When I was connected to a wound VAC and PICC line for weeks, I witnessed firsthand how medical teams coordinate care, make critical decisions under pressure, and maintain both technical excellence and human compassion. Not to mention my life partner, Annie, and her composure and care during my recoveries in 2004 and 2010.

"Collapse at the Finish Line" particularly resonates because it represents the intersection of human performance optimization and emergency medicine—the exact space where my personal passions for endurance sports and wilderness medicine coupled with my professional experience converge with AdventureMed's mission.

I’m excited to attend these sessions and participate in so many more opportunities for Wilderness Medical Society members to learn from one another! Thanks to the entire WMS team who puts these together multiple times a year!

AdventureMed: Where Mission Meets Market Reality

This brings me to why I'm so passionate about my role with AdventureMed. The organization sits at the intersection of foundational wilderness medicine education and human learning through a combination of invaluable in-person, hands-on experience with a hybrid on-line learning experience option —exactly where my four development paths converge of authentic leadership, technology enablement, life-long learning, and a deep connection with he outdoors.

The data makes our mission unmistakable: With 168.1 million Americans participating in outdoor activities and injury rates increasing 20% during peak participation periods, we're not just talking about a niche medical specialty. We're talking about a critical public health infrastructure that needs to scale rapidly and effectively.

AdventureMed isn't just developing and delivering better wilderness medicine curriculum; we're supporting a community of practitioners who must lead authentically in some of the most challenging environments on Earth. They can't rely on simply formal authority alone—they must earn trust through competence, character, and genuine care for others, just like that Wilderness First Responder who saved my life in 2004.

The Fireside Chat: Authentic Leadership When Lives Depend on It

This context makes my WMS upcoming fireside chat, "Authentic Leadership in the Wild: How Your Personal Brand Shapes Powerful Presentations," more than just a professional development session in how to create and deliver meaningful presentations to large groups. In wilderness medicine, your brand is what happens when someone is injured, scared, and looking to you for help.

As Jeff Bezos once said, "A brand is what people say about you when you're not around." In wilderness medicine, your brand is built through countless moments of authentic action under pressure—moments that are becoming statistically more frequent and more critical as outdoor participation continues its unprecedented growth.

The wilderness strips away pretense and reveals character. With Millennials now representing the largest adult generation and driving much of the outdoor participation growth, we need wilderness medicine practitioners who can not only master protocols and procedures, but who can communicate effectively with a generation that values authenticity over authority.

Looking Forward: The Convergence of Personal Purpose and Statistical Imperative

As I prepare for the WMS Summer Conference, I'm reminded that my personal journey from corporate boardrooms to mountain summits isn't unique—it's representative of a broader cultural shift toward outdoor recreation that the data validates. What is unique is having the privilege to apply 30 years of technology experience, personal resilience learning, and authentic leadership development to an organization like AdventureMed at exactly the moment when wilderness medicine education has never been more critical.

The statistics don't lie: more people are going outside, injury rates are increasing, and we need skilled practitioners who can lead authentically under pressure. My broken femur at Lake Powell in 2004 was just one data point, but it connected me to a mission that has never been more urgent or more aligned with both personal purpose and market reality.

The question isn't whether outdoor participation will continue growing—the data makes that clear. The question is whether we'll build the wilderness medicine education infrastructure to keep people safe during their pursuit of authentic outdoor experiences.

That's exactly what AdventureMed is built to address, and exactly why the Wilderness Medical Society as an organization and the Summer Conference conversations matter so much.

See you on the trails, and at the conference!

It's only been a few days, Mom...but I miss you.

 

As I was struggling during the transition from high school to college, my Mom wrote me a letter I still have and read from time to time. This will be my letter to her.

There are two things my Mom had lying around her apartment, notepads and bibles…I’ll just use the iPad we shared for COVID communication…

 

Dear Mom,

Thank you. … Thank you for being you.

Thank you for birthing me … and always reminding me and anyone else, …you did!

Thank you to both you and Dad for raising me. …

I learned some hard lessons early in life, they shaped the human I am today. I have gratitude for you both and those experiences.

Personal growth stems from a willingness to step into the uncomfortable, rather than clinging to the comfortable. We shared some discomfort, didn’t we?

You’ll always be with me, Mom.  You always have been; even when you weren’t sure … and called a few times in a day to remind me you were “there” and “loved me”.

We had a unique relationship over the decades. … I played many roles … but you were always my mother … and I was always your son.

Through our relationship I learned to be both strong and soft; to be resilient and compassionate.  You instilled within me a deep appreciation for empathy; … first in our early years and later indirectly as your care-giver. … We learned how to stretch; how to do and say the hard things and grow closer through those challenges. We both practiced unconditional love, always.

Friends from high school and college have been sending me messages of all they remembered and cherished about you, … it is easily summed up as a proud mother with a BIG HEART who loved her sons deeply.

I am grateful for all the traits I inherited from you and Dad, … my BIG HEART .. will always be … your gift to me. Big hearts can be hurt easily, so to be strong I learned to protect it, … something you never did. On more than one occasion you took in those in need.

I learned too late in life that asking for help is not a sign of weakness. When I met Annie, I learned a servant’s heart does not have to be an enduring solo mission. It was you Mom, I spoke of, on an early date with Annie in San Francisco, that broadened my human experience with her.

Always, when you saw Annie, you would smile widely and say, “it’s no wonder you married her”; … it seemed somehow you knew that I needed her, even though we never spoke of it. … You loved Annie for many things, among them, deeply caring for me.

My deepest hope these past few years has been to create experiences to share with you my inner child, who only came out to “play” occasionally … that part of me was often overshadowed by the very intense and “adulting” version of me from adolescence onward. 

I endeavored often to bring you joy and laughter; … more than anything I just liked to see your wry smile when I was goofy with you; … contorting my face over video or telling a fib…like when we hopped in the car in 2016 to make the journey to Pittsburgh to be closer to Matt and I told you we were driving to Canada so I could escape the law, … and you responded, … “well, you better drive faster”.

More recently, we and the care-givers had fun with the more mundane things like ice cream cravings, snack bags, Lester Holt, and of course Burger Boy (aka McDonalds).

You’d ask what I do for work and somehow my answer that I was a construction worker on the internet translated through you to the care-givers as “My son John works for Hallmark and he makes the commercials we are watching!”

You were always proud of both Matt and me, no matter how small the achievement. Your pride helped me believe … I could do … anything; … our shared experiences taught me the mental and emotional endurance to run 100 miles and race by bike with a team from coast to coast. … Of course, my love of fitness began with the crush on Jane Fonda you started for me with all your aerobic tapes and jazzercise classes.

There have been two meditations since you left us on Friday, that I have reflected on. First …

Today, in each moment, I have the power to choose. …

I choose to believe your soul is in a better place.

A place without pain, fear, and anxiety.

I choose to believe you are surrounded by boundless beauty, love, and joy.

I choose to remember you as the person I needed you to be with the biggest and purest heart.

I choose to keep you always in my heart driving me up every mountain top and carrying me through every valley in between.

The second meditation is,  

 “The soul is the purest expression of an individual and is not bound by physical forms or fleeting emotions.”  

 … Which reminds me of the Sanskrit phrase “Namaste”.

To you Mother, Namaste, I honor the Place in You in which the entire universe dwells.

I honor the Place in You which is of love, … of truth, … of light, … and of Peace.

When you are in that Place in You … and I am in that Place in Me, … we are one.

In our final moments together before you drifted away into a peaceful sleep, you said, “we got along famously”…  and yes, I agree, we did.

Thank you. … I love you. … Rest in Peace,

Your Son, John

 

Chapters

After nearly three years of battling injuries, you just have to stop and ask yourself,"What aren't you doing?"  I asked myself that very question towards the end of 2013 and made a decision not to run for 8 weeks straight and just focus on everything else.  There's a reason why my body continues to fall trap to never making forward progress and getting back to the shape I was in during the 2011 running season, which seems so long ago now.  It wasn't just about running, this is a metaphor for many things in life for me.

"All of us every single year, we're a different person. I don't think we're the same person all our lives." -- Stephen Spielberg

That's been my problem all along, not realizing that every single year I will be different.  I don't embrace the possibility of change and flow with the energy it can posses. I revert, I control, I lay in wait for the same efforts, same perspective to shape me.  I took 13 weeks before the end of the year to be "different", take a new "approach", find my peace and banish the darkness within as well as heal physically.  In some ways I found light, but it's a continuous process.

It was harder and easier in different ways throughout the hours, days, and weeks that concluded 2013 for me.  I've never been so challenged by myself before in my entire life. Yet, I still find myself challenged, I've not found the correct "rhythm" of life to feel good more consistently across my various dimensions. It's a struggle.

I tell myself it's hard to maintain momentum and focus over many weeks, I get distracted. Those early days felt good.  I was rejuvenated.  My knee more or less stopped hurting, I started to see changes physically that I hadn't seen in my body since 2001.  I kept reminding myself, "I am not my age, I am not my age!"  I focused on how I felt across all my dimensions.

Targeted inner focus requires visualization of what you want to happen on any given day, so I told myself a little story:

I wake, the morning sun is still below the horizon, the darkness outside is still deep and quiet, there is no escape. I either draw the sheets up and descend into my own warm, sleepy daze or find resolve to venture forth and dare challenge my soul.  Today, I stand up and find my footing. I stand tall, my inner being is at peace, the congestion that was yesterday is behind me, the day in front of me is fresh and new, full of promise. I smile. That's me, I smile because I continue to discover myself even after 40 years or so I think, there is nothing certain in life, except for change.

It's not so easy though, injuries have a way of breaking you down. Each day...it's a little harder, depending on the day and my soul.   F-it, I am, who I am.

On a whim, I went to Phoenix in January to cheer some buds during Rock n' Roll Marathon and ended up running the damn thing, not before signing up for a once in a lifetime opportunity to run "Comrades Marathon" a 90k race in South Africa in June with all of them. 

I ran the Surf City Half Marathon with my brother in February, his return to running after 12 years.  I am proud of him for the dedication he exhibited and his performance that day.

Acceptance?  Realization?  Hope?  Promise?  Fortitude?  Surrender?  All of those things...I am and I will.

I am honestly, and perhaps for the first time looking at my existence on this planet and what it means with a new perspective.  This involves many questions.  Mid-life crisis, maybe.  In the end, I've arrived at a place where I believe if I don't ask those questions of myself, I will stagnate.  So I press on.  It's like sitting in the ocean on a surfboard, among the heaviest kelp bed you've seen, being pulled in all directions as the ocean moves beneath you, while trying to just position yourself for the next set of waves, like the next step in your life. 

Do you want to carry the weight of the past or do you want to release it and be FREE?  I want to be FREE!  Running Free...I am, who I am...So I am here.  Living.  Living as I know it.  Extending myself in ways yet incomprehensible, but that's okay.  I am.  I traveled to California yet again and found a new band of brothers in Solvang, CA for a ride of a lifetime.

It's been nearly 14 years since I rode over 100 miles on one ride.  This was a test of sorts for me.  But what I found wasn't just inside but the camaraderie of a merry band of gentlemen on a chilly morning to start a whole new adventure. I dropped off after mile 65, to ride my tranquil self-reflective 35 miles to the finish.  But those first 65 miles, were AWESOME!  No man left behind, a group/team effort to gather and push everyone to the end. I quickly found in the group a nondescript, total acceptance of our existence together.  Bonds were forged and in the aftermath, I found people I will always consider "friends".
That is life.  Human to human.  The sentient beings of this planet finding ourselves and one another to celebrate life, a life worth living, together.  I am grateful for my recent experiences.  They have spurred me on to find more.  I will continue to re-discover the space among the pillars of my soul and in fact, I am finding new pillars and new spaces to explore.

More recently, as I wrote this post awhile ago, too many people I know have been stricken with some form of cancer.  I don't understand it, comprehension fully eludes me.  It makes all this and me feel small, inconsequential, my concerns in the world; what bigger, more pressing matters should I focus on?  It makes me want to love life and everyone in it with abandon, no regret, no apology.  Every day is a gift.

It's now April and this post has stagnated for a couple months...there continues to be promise and growth in various dimensions, while still experiencing setbacks of sorts.  My character has been tested, I look forward to further growth in spaces I know and the spaces I have yet to find.

"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved." -- Helen Keller

Playlists and the Inner Child

I don't have an exhaustive music library, nor an interesting one, but it does invoke certain memories of my past from junior high to college and beyond.  I can remember running to a particular song in the past and my inner child smiles large.  I think that's what running does for me, it touches my inner child. Whether bounding down a mountain side at break neck speed bouncing from boulder to boulder or hitting the high school track for a workout, my inner child has come out to play.


I have thought a lot about races this year and training for that matter, but nothing has really stuck.  I've had a lot of discussions with Annie about what it all really means to me.  I've been trying to distill the essence and capture the mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects of running for me: letting my inner child out to play.  He is elusive and rarely comes out and I want him to more often in non-running scenarios to share his joy, enthusiasm, zest for life with others around him outside of epic runs.  

It's no secret I love the epic runs.  I am transitioning my state of being to reflect differently on what that means in two ways.  The first is that nature, mountain passes, and mountain peaks are my journey; no matter the speed or whether I have a race number on or not.  This summer we will find those adventures.

The second is that I have an undeniable desire to hit a certain feeling of exhaustion and accomplishment.  That magic zone seemed in the past to hover around 4 hours of running the mountains and plains around Boulder, but I've since found a way to shorten the time spent on my feet and encounter the same level of near joyful hallucination, which is excellent with all things considered.

All of this has become more meaningful to me after the Boston Marathon bombing.  Many friends are working towards qualifying for 2014, running for unity and support of our collective passion, people, and for those that lost their lives or were forever marred by the craziness that is our world around us and across the globe. 

These recent events and possibilities have been the motivation I've sought.  A few weeks ago I decided to qualify for an early wave in the BolderBoulder 10k and start working on speed again.  It's been an exhilarating, yet humbling experience to hit the track after 2 years.  

I've been jetting back and forth from Colorado to California for work and running on the Fairview H.S. track (above) and the Burligame H.S. track (below).  Interestingly, these workouts have seemed to help with some of the injury related issues I've had resurfacing and I am all for that, of course.  

For me, track practice is all about preparation, mental and physical.  If neither or one is not present, I suffer.  I learned early on that I need 20-25 minutes of warming up, stretching, and finding a mental focus.  Once complete, the inner child roars with exuberance as I toe the line and accelerate for the interval.  As I hit the first turn the breathing becomes labored, shortened, muscle fibers strain and I find my stride. I hurt, I hurt all over, the entire time...but it feels good oddly enough.  My chest heaves with empty air to suck whatever oxygen it can into my ailing muscles.  For me the two best intervals are the first and the last.  When complete, I kick off my shoes and socks, bare foot I traipse around the inner field on the turf and feel weightless and carefree, yes, the inner child is at peace again.

We'll see what the year holds in the second half as far as ultra races are concerned, I have no expectations.  I would like to run a WS100 qualifier this year so I can participate in the lottery for a 2014 bid, but we'll see.  I am just enjoying life right now, rediscovering and exploring.  I have constant reminders around me of my 2011 race season to never let me forget what I found that year in the space between the pillars of my soul.  

Will I run, will I run all day, will I run no matter what...always.

Finding my Way...

Spiriting down the rabbit hole. Will I, if not now, when? Confluence.  Can I?  A desire so deep, ingrained, unshakable, sometimes inexplicable...tortures me, just let me run.

I haven't posted in months, it feels weird.  This is a blog about running, and I've not been doing a lot of that this year, but since I seem to be recovering, it was necessary to feed my soul and capture some thoughts and experiences.  Many of my past posts, particularly around Leadville have helped my to keep the fire alive and not lose hope this year.

For the entire year of 2012, I've attempted to return to the trails and find myself again.  A few weeks ago, I ran past the old sage that touched my soul in the early months of 2011.  A sign of good fortune; perhaps.

All I can muster is to focus on next year.  Getting "right" enough to conquer some new endeavors.  Starting over again after a year, is in a word, daunting.  I'm so far off my game...2011 is almost erased in terms of gain and I'm a year older.  But I have my spirit, my drive, my desire, I have hope.  For most, this is the end of the season, for me I'm just getting started.

After a successful tune-up run a couple of weeks earlier with Stephen and Clint, I threw caution to the wind and rallied for the "Basic Boulder" the annual group run, unofficial in nature, yet with a very competitive field last weekend.  It was a gathering of locals, legends, and friends.  After a stressful week in West Virginia, I needed an escape that brought me back to the peace found among the mountains.   

Boulder had just received a good dumping of early season snow during the week and with the colder than normal temperatures, it stuck around for our jaunt and made the run all that more epic.  There is a quietness that surrounds you as the trail, earlier concealed by the snow appears from previous occupants.  It's exhilarating.  Some, as myself, but not all, bring loads of gear for runs like this.  You feel alive in your preparation for all that may come your way. Needless to say after three and a half hours, I was cooked and skipped the last ascent to Bear Mountain and hobbled my way to the car and went home, exhausted.

I went back out this weekend for a confirmation that while I still have the cyst in my knee and it's bothersome, it's not debilitating. I continued the dry needling and PT this week, with less success from the dry needling than the prior session, but apparently that is to be expected.  Speaking of expectations and how rewarding or troublesome they can be...I am certainly at a cross roads for some decisions around next year.

I am in my 40th year, yes I know I am 39, not 40...but those that know me and have tripped into this conversation with me, for all intents and purposes my body is 39 + however many days since July 5, 2012.  At times I can be morose regarding this topic, but I do want to break through some new barriers in these remaining 243 days.  The WS100 lottery is coming up at the end off the month, that's goal race #1.  If that's all I do, I'll be satisfied to a certain extent.  It's been a dream for a long time as was Leadville and I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to complete Leadville last year.  If I get selected, I've decided to remove any pressure for this race and just enjoy it as I did the NYC Marathon last year and find peace in the journey.  Unfortunately, there is a part of me that wants to set a goal and push for a time I know I can achieve with the right mind, body, and spirit preparation as I did at Leadville.  All things being equal, folks that have run both, usually run a faster time at WS100.

So there's that...then there's the Badwater 135, my ultimate dream, the race I read about on January 1, 2001 that ignited this spark and now raging fire inside of me to run far, for hours, to lose myself, discover, and explore my soul.  Badwater is run in August and starts at the lowest point of Death Valley and finishes at the Portal on Mt Whitney, 135 miles away over two mountain ranges and yes, it is very hot the entire time.  It is very difficult to get "invited" to Badwater.  You have to have a pretty impressive resume of experience and a minimum of three sanctioned 100 mile race finishes under your belt.  You have to complete an extensive application process, you need a crew, you need a big heart, and you need a level of fortitude I am just not sure I've found yet. This is all due in March each year...which means I have to run two more 100 milers before then...a tall order, given where I am currently at in my fitness.  So Badwater maybe a couple of years out still, but it's something I think about, dream about.  A life defining experience like none other.

Then there's Leadville and Leadman...this is also a tough proposition for next year.  Five events starting in July that includes the 100 mile mountain bike race the weekend before the 100 mile running race.  I vacillate between simply focusing on WS100 as I did with Leadville last year to ensure healthy, reduced injury training and be as prepared as possible or to just go for it.  I miss Leadville and I've been thinking about it a lot.  So we'll see.

It's back to basics for now.  Lots of cross training, solid training runs, continuing to nurse my ankle and knee, and finding balance in it all.

All that aside, Annie has thrown herself into finishing the house. We moved back in at the end of August to the basement bedroom while we figured out the main level floor issues.  She is almost finished and we will soon host family and friends in our new home, which is very exciting.  The infamous Katalpa tree we tried to keep through this whole process is in dire straits and we won't know it's status until next spring/summer.  It will be a very sorrowful lose, but we are preparing ourselves, while being as hopeful as possible. 

"I know of no higher fortitude than stubborness in the face of overwhelming odds. " 
- Louis Nizer

Balance

There's a lot to be said for finding balance in one's life.  Leadville consumed me last year, from January to August.  As I look back at those amazing months I wouldn't trade them for anything, but I wasn't balanced.  I was dedicated, disciplined, borderline obsessed.  I can take a deep breathe now and look back on it all and relax.  While I revel in the memories, relive moments, I can step back and disengage.  I can enjoy the simpler aspects of life, find balance in all that surrounds me.


While I had high aspirations for my running in 2012, riding the wave from 2011, it is not to be the story I kept telling myself September through December.  I have a new story to live, I'm not sure what it is yet, but I'll discover it as I discovered new depth and breadth in myself last year.  Yes, it has been a struggle to arrive at this realization.  I've yearned for the mountain peaks and the eastern flats that were my playground last year.  I've beat myself up over not wearing traction when I had it on Dec 18 for the descent of Mt. Sanitas.  I've tried to remain positive when running really just hurts and ended up depressed about "what would have been in 2012".  I'm human and I have some sort of piece of me that isn't as happy if I'm not able to do five or six hour runs over multiple peaks...I wish I knew why.  It doesn't matter where I am, when I look up at the mountains west of Boulder, my insides churn.  I want to jump up, throw on some gear and go.


The doctor seems to think I have six or more months before this injury gets "right" and then I can do all the things I use to do on a whim.  I have to fight the urge to just say to hell with it, I'll go anyway and see what happens, even though I know what will happen and thankfully that keeps the lion in the cage for a few more days until I get another urge.


I have to find balance in 2012.  Hopefully, I'll return in 2013.  I want to enter the lottery for Western States and do Leadville again.  I'll be stronger, hopefully faster and certainly rested.

"Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony." 

- Thomas Merton

Step, Stride, Shuffle, Speed

Last year ended as the previous year did, with an injury.  I had just crested the 2,000 miles  for the year mark (first time in my life) the week of Dec 12th and was feeling very good about getting a head start on 2012 training, running faster over distances from earlier in the year with the same level of effort.  Oh well, perhaps my body needed a break.

We celebrated the Holidays in North Carolina and West Virginia and made it back to Boulder for New Years Eve. I spent three weeks nursing my right lower leg and finally saw the Ortho over a week ago, result: grade 2 high ankle sprain.  It's in these moments I find myself thrown off my natural axis of life, not being able to run does something to me emotionally and mentally, I'm just not the same.

I also find that through injury I can take time to re-evaluate.  The first steps when I get back to running feel amazing, awkward and unusual.  Their slow steps, tenuous and filled with trepidation.  I then start adjusting upper body alignment, stride length and frequency, foot strike, and arm swing.  All in an effort to make it feel good again, even though there is pain.  It's hard to tell what is good pain and what is bad pain.  For example, I went out and ran 5 miles last week, what I thought was good pain was actually bad pain...too much, too soon.   So after another couple weeks of not running, I'll step, stride and start shuffling and I'll probably shuffle a lot over the next few weeks before I can test the speed in my legs.  When I say speed, that's a very relative term in my world, we're not talking 6, 7, or even 8 minute miles.

I was in yoga yesterday and the instructor said something we all know and don't practice much of the time,"Insanity is defined by doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results." I try and remind myself of this often, as I did this time last year.

The hills are calling, but I need to squelch the urge of seeing them in the distance and wanting to spend hours running all over them.
Many I know have made their race plans for 2012.  As difficult as it is, I on the other hand will hold off and wait to see the progress with my ankle and try and enjoy the "no pressure" zone I'm in without dates of impending races looming over me for the year.  I'll just have fun.

I had an epic year in 2011, really nothing before it compares.  I had four goal races and nailed each one.  I ran over 2,000 miles in one year (for me, that's a lot).  I found peace.  I bonded with Earth.  I rediscovered and revisited depth in my soul and created new depth to explore.  I continued to define myself.

My legs start to tingle in the morning after so many weeks of not running, my skin gets itchy, my soul yearns for the feeling I get gliding over the trails and climbing the hills that have helped shape me this past year.  I will find them again, soon enough. 

"The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled.  For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers."  - Unknown