ksilcox sayeth (in part): I'd be really interested in hearing other folks stories in terms of what

draws them to what distances of races - whether physical inclination or attitudes and atmosphere

of races and what keeps one going back to races.

-----

"It comes down to reality, and its fine with me cause I've let it slide."
---Billy Joel - New York State of Mind

or

"Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and daffodils
Catch the breeze and winter chills
In colors of the snowy linen land

Now I understand what you tried to say to me
..."
---Don McLean - Vincent

-------------------------

The coming dawn drives me out the door to run. An intrusive entry blank
might drive me to a distance, but not this year, not yet. This morning the
pull of the curtain reveals the wind tugging at branches; moving them aside
so I can see the trail across the prairie. The dark stripe at the edge of the

green of this spring's first crops is a string tied to me that pulls me out the

door each day.

The richness of the prairie soil shows in the deep brown, almost black color

of the soil. Each trip to the bluff takes me next to the darkening green of the

wheat that is pushing higher each day. On these late winter mornings, when

only those who read know spring is not here yet, there are new sights and

sounds--calves, barely a week old follow their mother to a pasture that will be

home. Mooing that is almost braying causes me to pause. One calf has

decided a puddle is a lake and its loud complaint is heard in the morning's

air. A morning's first lesson is about to be learned.

We heard the first song of the red-winged blackbirds a few days ago. The males

are here; flying to this perch or that, staking claims to territories for the females

that will arrive soon. The songs will be louder. The yellow, red, and orange patches

on the wings will be brighter, more brilliant in display. They are driven in their

behavior by the turn of a page on an unseen calendar.

Our whales are back. Technology gives us a Web site to glance at just before

heading out the door. If our black and white panda-like orcas are along our part

of the coast, today's route might be revised. The decision driven by the chance

of seeing some, or even just one, of Gaia's wondrous creations. Our routes are

influenced by wanting, needing, to know which nests will be occupied this year.

There are three bald eagle nests in our maze of trails. They are up there, a hundred

feet or more above us in tall Douglas firs. We have seen the occupants in two of

them placing sticks, doing maintenance from all the winter's wind damage. One

already has a white head visible on almost every trip. The nest will become a

nursery and we will await, not patiently, for a partly pink headed, poorly feathered,

clumsy baby to appear. By July it will be almost three feet tall and will fly,

assuming its role as a dominant species in our Pacific Northwest sky.

We are driven to drive to the flat trail alongside Padilla Bay where duck like birds

(dlbs) are pausing on their northerly flight to their breeding grounds. Monday there

were mergansers, buffleheads, pin tails, ruddy ducks, widgeons, and the many

resident great blue herons. They were there by the thousands. They know the tide

tables better than we do. They have no computer printout to consult, only an

unexplained clock that drives them to dinner with each season's turning.

As laziness has set in and the disciplined drive needed to train for races has ebbed,

we have become satisfied with seeing other things that are driven by unseen clocks

and calendars along our runs.

rgot

John, might be the first time someone fit Billy Joel, Don McLean and Greek Mythology into the same thread.

Like most of us, my exploration of running started with physical fitness.  This lead next to physical challenge, to see how fast and then how far I could push myself.  This continued on for a while even after I made the change to mostly trail races.  Somewhere on the way, it then turned into psychological fitness.  Much of that psychological part has to do with the community of trail runners and the events themselves, and a great deal has to do with escaping civilization for a while, whether alone of with a group of like minded friends.