Mustache Mountain Running

(I cannot even mask my pain. How great it was to reach
the top but the way up really did...hurt.  Pearl Izumi -
we put their name to the test and these amazing trail
shoes passed with flying colors!)

I've rarely run mountains and I've never had a Lady Gaga song stuck in my head while running.  But this week gave me both.  I was "on the edge of glory," and literally running on the edge of mountain trails designed for hiking.

I have now done three runs with Ben.  Ben is an ultra-runner who loves to do hills and mountain running.  Even in my minimal mountain running, I have never done anything like what I did in the past few days.

The soreness was already somewhat there after a decently long hike the first day in Queenstown with my wife, Miriam, and Gordon.  Then I went on the first run Ben had convinced me to do.  "It's only a 10k loop basically."  And he did not lie as we were back to the apartment in around six to seven miles.

But after the first few ascents up this mountain and I was hurting.

Breathing hard, my heart wondering what game I was playing, my quads weary after a mile of uphill, it was only my hardened will from years of running that kept me going after Ben, and slowly I will add.

(The views really do make it worth all of the fuss.  I mean, it's not that easy
to just stop and see something like this when I'm running around town.
There are towns that have these views but pretty rare.)

Then we descended... I. Have. Never. Seen. A. Man. Run. Downhill. Like. That.

I cannot explain the feeling of shock I had when Ben set off down hill at a reckless and obscene pace.  Roots, rocks, trees, and other obstacles jutted into the steep path I barely made it up, and Ben is actually having fun descending at what I deemed to be a "I want to die or be injured badly" sort of pace.  Worse yet, it's his favorite part.

We finished the run, him waiting for me at various places on the way up and down, and already with our jog back through town he is talking about tomorrow's run... uh, what?  He is describing the same run we just did only going past all that and to the summit of the mountain above.  Damn.

Somehow I started the run the next day with him to summit the mountain Ben Lomond.

(Here is Ben in all of his crazy - shamefully waiting on me to catch up)

My quads were already insanely sore and I seriously doubted the adventure. And honestly I did more walking fast while climbing than running because I just could not make my legs go. How did I make it up? It took every trick I know.  It even took Lady Gaga in my head, oddly enough helping me to enjoy the views even more with that...song.

In just over two hours we summited (around 6.2 miles up - my Garmin had a bad day) and rested briefly.  I doubted my body would be able to safely descend, especially because I knew now how Ben liked to do it.  Somehow the stillness of the mountain and peaceful lack of wind only further made me wonder - I could hear my heartbeat smashing against my ears and head.

We began our descent.  My body happily surprised me, and outside of my two adductor muscles

(It was pretty sweet watching as the other guy would
disappear into the cloud.  Here Ben took my camera
and got a shot of me ascending out of a cloud!)

cramping up routinely and a necessary stretch break to make them release, somehow I found myself enjoying downhill running/controlled falling.  Not enjoying it, but falling in love with it. How strange?

The view.  The still air.  The feeling of summiting.  The exhaustion.  The dampness that clung to us as we ran through clouds.  The risk.  The strange enjoyment of moving past fear and into thrilling excitement.  Quick stepping.  Rock leaping.  Heaving clean air.  The few faces of hikers going up as we screamed past them going down.

I've always had trouble trusting my body after that first major injury.  The injury.  It changed everything.  Limits decreased and the body was proven mortal.

This week I can honestly say that I have never been more happily surprised by my body's response to pain and endurance.  I asked so much of it, especially in ways for which it was not prepared.  Maybe tomorrow I'll pay, but for now the soreness of the summit feels amazing.  The new love for flying downhill is too real.

Perhaps the trails and I will have a new sort of love affair, one that the roads has deemed impossible. Maybe that's fine with me.  I'll tell you one thing, roads have rarely offered me the breathtaking views and wonderful joy that running these trails in the mountains of Queenstown bathed us in this week.

(It's always hard to capture how steep hills are in a picture. The lower
climb and descent was equally as beautiful but in a more woodsy way)

Ben is crazy and, as I told him, he should come with a warning label, but he has somehow exposed me to a new joy within running.  I will either be immensely thankful in a few years.... or broken.  But I am signing up today for the mountain marathon that traverses much of the same mountain ranges.

I just can't help myself.  "I'm on the edge of glory, and I'm hanging on a moment of truth."  Just maybe that truth is that my body has a lot of surprises left in it.  Maybe yours does too!  Wouldn't it be amazing if post aged 33 running eclipsed the accomplishments of pre aged 23 running?!  Maybe I really am on the edge of glory.

I might just fall off... but I'll be running that edge to see just how far it goes.

(Ya so I wasn't joking about maybe not having the energy to safely make it down...)