Anatomy of a Run
The Joggers made me do it
I ran this morning, as I do most Tuesdays and Fridays, with the Mt. Joggers of Mt. Maunganui. http://www.eventday.co.nz/Mt_Joggers_and_Walkers_Half_Marathon.php This is my "serious" runners group, as opposed to my "raunchy" runners group, the Mount Hash House Harriers. http://pickendawn.blogspot.com/2011/03/on-on-at-hash-part-2.html When I show up to the scout hall for Joggers at 9:15, I know I'm in for it. The run usually involves multiple hills. I've always been a road warrior, logging nearly all my miles on asphalt or cement on a fairly flat road. I ran hills only to train for a race like Spokane's Bloomsday (one of the world's largest timed road races, it's 12 km long and features heaps of hills). http://www.bloomsdayrun.org/
Now that I live in the shadow of a 761 foot-high extinct volcano poised between ocean and harbor, there's no escaping its slopes. Mt. Maunganui (Mauao, in Maori, "The Mount" for short) beckons. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mauao When I first arrived here, I asked a runner who'd paused where the kids and I were walking, "Do you run the mountain?" She said, "I don't know if anyone runs the mountain. You can hike up the mountain and run around the base" (this was before dozens of mudslides closed the track encircling the Mount). I did walk to the Mount's summit by myself during our first week here, huffing and sweating in the January sun. I thought, "No wonder no one runs up this hill. Too steep."
That was before I joined the Mt. Joggers. I found the group after walking with a lovely group of Kiwi seniors I'd found online. I told a couple of them, "I like walking, but I'm really keen to run." They told me where and when the joggers meet, and I've been running with a pack of trail fliers ever since. The group's comprised almost entirely of women and includes beginners, intermediates (like me) and advanced runners who kick butt with one skinny arm tied behind their backs. At least one woman is an ultramarathoner who competes in trail races upwards of 50 miles. Many runners are mums who speed through a 5 mile hill workout before collecting their toddlers or preschoolers from on-site sitters (several mums have told me the running group has saved their sanity!).
I stood among the group this morning as the leader, Jill, outlined the run. "We're going to start at Pilot Bay, do the base track until you reach the fence where it's closed; run up that side until the water tower, or keep going to the gate, then around to the North face and up to the gate, then down to Leisure Island (more hills on this small peninsula off The Mount's Main Beach), and then do Mt. Drury. If there's time after that..." The runners are looking at each other at this point, saying, "No way there's time for anything else. That's a lot!" I thought, "I'll do everything but Mt. Drury. Screw Mt. Drury." It's really just a hill, but after running up and down 4 times during one of my first Joggers' workouts, I wasn't a big fan of Dreary, I mean, Drury.
We're off, cruising the flat along Pilot Bay, looking at the Mount's green slopes, enjoying a break from the rain. We reach the base track and cruise around. "No worries here," I thought. Then, we wind to the uphill track, where the work starts. I can hear a lone male, a guy wearing black socks and white running shoes, huffing and coughing. Should I call 1-1-1 for an ambulance? His footfall's so heavy, I wonder if we're being chased by elephants. I gotta lose this guy. The trail pitches more steeply, and my hope of escaping Black Sock Guy (BSG) fades. Forget it. Just go. I can turn around at the water tower instead of running another quarter mile to the gate. "Are you running to the gate?" asks BSG. "I think I'm gonna turn around at the water tower," I said. "Come on," said BSG. "It's only another 200 meters." Bugger. He's right. "Since you put it that way, I'll go." I thought to myself, "At least I can skip Mt. Drury." I tag the gate and turn around. I can feel a smile returning to my face as I regain my breath and run down, down, down. Each time I see the fast runners heading towards me, on their way down, I think, "Look how happy they are." Now, I'm happy, too. For the moment. Before it's time to dig in again.
We dodge sheep shit en route to the Mount's North face. Sheep still graze here, in effect mowing the mountain's grass. It's part of what makes Mauao, Mauao. Once again, we're heading up. After several minutes, the fast pack is running downhill towards us, smiling. I'm still trudging up. "At least I can skip Mr. Drury," I thought. "Screw Mt. Drury." I tag the gate, turn and fly downhill, encouraging other runners along the way who are still fighting the uphill battle. "Good on you!" I say. "Way to go!" I'm free to talk and cheer because I'm soaring, no longer burdened by the hard work of shuffling up, up, up...
After cruising down the Mount, BSG and I run the flat boardwalk en route to the "last" hill of this run, Leisure Island. We cross the soft sand and hit the peninsula's trail, running first on the flat, then stairs, then a pitched dirt track. The end of this trail rewards you with stunning views of The Mount and the ocean. We can see surfers bobbing in the sea, waiting for the next wave. I turn around and think, "Yay! That's it...last hill." I head back, tossing out one or two "Good on you"'s en route. BSG runs beside me. We cross the sand to the road that'll take us back to the scout lodge, where we start and finish. We're directly across from Mt. Drury - the last hill of the route I gave myself permission to skip. Screw Mt. Drury.
Then I see them: The fast runners. They're flying down Drury, chatting and smiling. They've tackled every hill. No one skipped the last part. Bugger. I'll have to do this, won't I? BSG and I start up Drury. The path becomes a mix of paving stone and grass. Halfway to the top, I'm thinking, "This doesn't feel as hard as I thought it would. And it's such a small hill. I can do this."
We reach the summit, where I stretch out my arms and let loose a little, "Whoo-hoo!" Screw Mt. Drury. The Joggers (including BSG - Good on you, mate) made me do it.
The Joggers made me do it
I ran this morning, as I do most Tuesdays and Fridays, with the Mt. Joggers of Mt. Maunganui. http://www.eventday.co.nz/Mt_Joggers_and_Walkers_Half_Marathon.php This is my "serious" runners group, as opposed to my "raunchy" runners group, the Mount Hash House Harriers. http://pickendawn.blogspot.com/2011/03/on-on-at-hash-part-2.html When I show up to the scout hall for Joggers at 9:15, I know I'm in for it. The run usually involves multiple hills. I've always been a road warrior, logging nearly all my miles on asphalt or cement on a fairly flat road. I ran hills only to train for a race like Spokane's Bloomsday (one of the world's largest timed road races, it's 12 km long and features heaps of hills). http://www.bloomsdayrun.org/
Now that I live in the shadow of a 761 foot-high extinct volcano poised between ocean and harbor, there's no escaping its slopes. Mt. Maunganui (Mauao, in Maori, "The Mount" for short) beckons. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mauao When I first arrived here, I asked a runner who'd paused where the kids and I were walking, "Do you run the mountain?" She said, "I don't know if anyone runs the mountain. You can hike up the mountain and run around the base" (this was before dozens of mudslides closed the track encircling the Mount). I did walk to the Mount's summit by myself during our first week here, huffing and sweating in the January sun. I thought, "No wonder no one runs up this hill. Too steep."
That was before I joined the Mt. Joggers. I found the group after walking with a lovely group of Kiwi seniors I'd found online. I told a couple of them, "I like walking, but I'm really keen to run." They told me where and when the joggers meet, and I've been running with a pack of trail fliers ever since. The group's comprised almost entirely of women and includes beginners, intermediates (like me) and advanced runners who kick butt with one skinny arm tied behind their backs. At least one woman is an ultramarathoner who competes in trail races upwards of 50 miles. Many runners are mums who speed through a 5 mile hill workout before collecting their toddlers or preschoolers from on-site sitters (several mums have told me the running group has saved their sanity!).
I stood among the group this morning as the leader, Jill, outlined the run. "We're going to start at Pilot Bay, do the base track until you reach the fence where it's closed; run up that side until the water tower, or keep going to the gate, then around to the North face and up to the gate, then down to Leisure Island (more hills on this small peninsula off The Mount's Main Beach), and then do Mt. Drury. If there's time after that..." The runners are looking at each other at this point, saying, "No way there's time for anything else. That's a lot!" I thought, "I'll do everything but Mt. Drury. Screw Mt. Drury." It's really just a hill, but after running up and down 4 times during one of my first Joggers' workouts, I wasn't a big fan of Dreary, I mean, Drury.
We're off, cruising the flat along Pilot Bay, looking at the Mount's green slopes, enjoying a break from the rain. We reach the base track and cruise around. "No worries here," I thought. Then, we wind to the uphill track, where the work starts. I can hear a lone male, a guy wearing black socks and white running shoes, huffing and coughing. Should I call 1-1-1 for an ambulance? His footfall's so heavy, I wonder if we're being chased by elephants. I gotta lose this guy. The trail pitches more steeply, and my hope of escaping Black Sock Guy (BSG) fades. Forget it. Just go. I can turn around at the water tower instead of running another quarter mile to the gate. "Are you running to the gate?" asks BSG. "I think I'm gonna turn around at the water tower," I said. "Come on," said BSG. "It's only another 200 meters." Bugger. He's right. "Since you put it that way, I'll go." I thought to myself, "At least I can skip Mt. Drury." I tag the gate and turn around. I can feel a smile returning to my face as I regain my breath and run down, down, down. Each time I see the fast runners heading towards me, on their way down, I think, "Look how happy they are." Now, I'm happy, too. For the moment. Before it's time to dig in again.
We dodge sheep shit en route to the Mount's North face. Sheep still graze here, in effect mowing the mountain's grass. It's part of what makes Mauao, Mauao. Once again, we're heading up. After several minutes, the fast pack is running downhill towards us, smiling. I'm still trudging up. "At least I can skip Mr. Drury," I thought. "Screw Mt. Drury." I tag the gate, turn and fly downhill, encouraging other runners along the way who are still fighting the uphill battle. "Good on you!" I say. "Way to go!" I'm free to talk and cheer because I'm soaring, no longer burdened by the hard work of shuffling up, up, up...
After cruising down the Mount, BSG and I run the flat boardwalk en route to the "last" hill of this run, Leisure Island. We cross the soft sand and hit the peninsula's trail, running first on the flat, then stairs, then a pitched dirt track. The end of this trail rewards you with stunning views of The Mount and the ocean. We can see surfers bobbing in the sea, waiting for the next wave. I turn around and think, "Yay! That's it...last hill." I head back, tossing out one or two "Good on you"'s en route. BSG runs beside me. We cross the sand to the road that'll take us back to the scout lodge, where we start and finish. We're directly across from Mt. Drury - the last hill of the route I gave myself permission to skip. Screw Mt. Drury.
Then I see them: The fast runners. They're flying down Drury, chatting and smiling. They've tackled every hill. No one skipped the last part. Bugger. I'll have to do this, won't I? BSG and I start up Drury. The path becomes a mix of paving stone and grass. Halfway to the top, I'm thinking, "This doesn't feel as hard as I thought it would. And it's such a small hill. I can do this."
We reach the summit, where I stretch out my arms and let loose a little, "Whoo-hoo!" Screw Mt. Drury. The Joggers (including BSG - Good on you, mate) made me do it.
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