Chi Running Update Update

Waterton Canyon is open!

This is great cause for celebration among runners who live in the southwest corner of town. The canyon is scenic, nearby, and most importantly, a place where you can run a long ways on dirt roads without dealing with the noise and pollution of city traffic. Very cool.

The canyon has been closed for months, due to a sludge-draining project at the Strontia Springs Dam. Apparently the reservoir was getting clogged with silt from higher mountain runoff, so the Denver Water engineers figured out a way to pump the crud from the bottom of the lake down to the lowland roadway where it could be recycled into fertile soil that can be used to grow rutabagas for the starving children in Latveria.

Or something like that. Maybe they're just dumping it in somebody else's river. I don't know. But I do know that the pipes and pumping stations are impressive, and that it's darn good to be able to run in the canyon again.

The plan was that a group of us would meet at the entrance at sunrise, and begin the run up to the dam the moment they opened the gates to let us in. Unfortunately, I didn't arrive early enough to warm up before the gates opened...and without being warmed up, there is no way I could keep up with anyone. The rest of the group had vanished out of sight before I even reached the half-mile marker. Oh well, so much for my planned morning of "social running".

So, the "Chi Running" update is this: Even though my knees are handling this new running form with grace and fluidity, the instructions of Master Po, et al, have not taught me a way to loosen up quickly, especially when the ambient temperature is in the sullen teens. I knew that I'd eventually warm up to the point where each stride would carry me more than a couple of inches...but as I watched my friends disappear into the distance, I felt like the dorky kid who always gets chosen last in gym class.

And believe me, I know what that feels like.

Yes, it's true, my friends. Despite my current Ricardo Montalban sophistication and Bill Bixby muscularity, there was a time when I was a skinny dweeb with no apparent aptitude for sports. I say "apparent" aptitude, because I think I was probably not that horrid...but because I got straight A's and looked like Barney Fife, the cool kids assumed I was a total klutz. Nobody ever asked me to diagram plays in the dirt, or to run back kickoffs, or even to deal the cards in a poker game.

The worst insult to my athletic ability was when I played in the company slow-pitch softball league in my early years at the rocket ranch. We had one session of batting practice before the season started, and since my "fungo" distance was the shortest of all the guys on the team, I was assigned to bat last. The guy with the most power was put in at "cleanup". The irony was that while I couldn't hit the ball very far, I could place it with pretty good accuracy. I never hit for extra bases, but my batting average for the season was over .800. Mr Big-Arm Smash Hitter went oh-fer the season. He hit very very long outs, but they were always outs.

But I digress. My point is that I was really struggling when we began to run in the canyon. Plus, the feed hose from my hydration pack was frozen solid within the first few hundred meters. As much as I was happy about being back in the long-forbidden canyon, I can't say I was enjoying my latest chi run all that much.

Everyone else seemed to be having a good time, though. And despite the gigantic pipe snaking alongside the entire road, the canyon was looking pretty good. And sure enough, by continuing to concentrate on my form I was eventually able to run in true chi fashion. I still couldn't keep up with any of my friends, but at least I was able to put in a good solid 9 miles.

The only members of the group who were still around when I finished were only there because of a, um, dietary issue. Seems that one young fellow (who shall remain nameless) found himself possessed by an urgent need to stop at every single outhouse along the way. He was much faster than me, but with his long stops at each waystation, I was able to emerge from the canyon while he and his mom were still in the parking lot. So, I did have a couple of minutes of social contact, I guess.

Anyway, the eductational point of today's posting is this: A hot bath feels really good after running 9 miles all alone in an ice-cold windy canyon. That's all I really wanted to say. You should try it.

I do intend to run in the canyon as much as I can during its brief open season. It closes again at the end of January, and they'll be shooting sludge down the tubes for the next year or so. Therefore, we might as well all take advantage of the time we have out there the best we can. Perhaps I'll see you out there next weekend. In the meantime, have a great day!