Training and Fitness

I was a runt. As a sophomore in high school, I was 5 foot 3 inches and weighed a whopping 89 lbs. Little tiny guy. I started to grow but weight didn't keep up with length. By the time I was in my early twenties I had stretched out to 6 foot 2 inches but was skinny, like 130 lbs skinny. I thought I ate a lot and mom would warn me to be careful because as you get older you will gain weight. I didn't believe her. I was active. I played a lot of basketball, golf (walking the courses, not riding carts), and I meandered up rivers and streams all day without eating. Weight wasn't a problem. Those who knew me said I could use a few pounds.

Well, mom was right (don't you hate that--moms are always right). I started to put weight on at age 30, but like people had told me, I could use a little. At 40 more of it came. I had given up playing competitive basketball and only golf a few times a year. I was a fly fishing nut and that is where I concentrated my efforts. But fly fishing doesn't really get the heart rate going--except, the anticipation of going and hooking a nice trout. Other than that, fly fishing wasn't burning the calories.

A few years back, I took up running and mountain biking. My highest weight was 206 lbs (still not bad but more than I wanted). I worked down to about 180 lbs a few years back and was able to maintain that for some time. This year I wanted to get down to 175 lbs and stay there. I rode my bike and ran more. Before I knew it I was down to 164 lbs--maybe a little too skinny again? I have felt good. I am able to run 11 miles fairly easy and 3 to 5 mile runs are very easy. I guess in a way I'm bragging. I just feel good for a 52 year old man.

My beautiful wife decided to get into the fitness act too.  She has always played soccer so it's not like she wasn't fit. I am so proud of her. She has been working out, stretching, and watching her diet too. Today, she announced to me that she has lost 30 lbs! She looks (and feels) wonderful. I remember telling her when we first got married that I loved her for who she was and not necessarily how she looks (although looks are important to us guys--don't deny it). I told her that I would love her even if she struggled with weight. I still believe that. But, I do have to brag, she looks fit! Hopefully, for both of us, the training and fitness will pay dividends of strong hearts and lungs and add a few years to our lives.

FOOTHILLS

SHE ROCKS!

The foothills of the Wasatch in Utah are hot, dry places of sweat in late July. Salt and water drip from the skin and soak clothing. The urge to rip the stickiness from the skin and run sunburned and naked for the shade plays upon the mind. A constant, moaning voice speaks from inside. It calls out for water. Water to drink and water to splash in. Open-mouth breathing dries the tongue and throat. Lips shrivel and chap. If not prepared the heat will stop you in your tracks, turn you back, or keep you from hiking all together. Stay home.

I have always loved the heat. As a young boy, I ran through hot sagebrush hills. Most days I was a jackrabbit, twisting, turning, stopping on a dime. I could leap over junipers. Some days, I was a hawk. I soared on warm, rising air high over rocky cliffs, then up and out of sight over mountain peaks. I wouldn't come back until I opened my eyes, stood up, and brushed the dirt off my backside.

While laying there in my dreams, I could feel the sun. It tanned my face and arms. It baked me into the earth. I remember staying outside all day, the scorching brightness dehydrating me until my head pounded. Too young, and as I got older, too dumb to take water, I spent hours melting. I would fish for hours, tempted by the clear water to drop to my knees and sip.The only thing stopping me was the threat of giardia. Eventually, with age, I smartened up enough to carry a bottle of water or two.

My wife and I started out on a local foothill trail right in the middle of the afternoon a few days ago. Cicada were whining loudly only stopping when we got close to their hiding place. Yes, I'm talking July in Utah! We were in a searching mood. We planned to explore the first part of the trail to test its difficulty. After a mile of hiking, we decided that the trail was not as difficult as we suspected. We had sucked down our water bottles (see wisdom with age) and talked about plans to do the complete trail on another day, either early or late to avoid the heat (see more wisdom with age). This particular trail takes about 4 hours one way. Most people who hike the trail will leave a car at one end and then drive to the other end, make the hike, and then drive back to the trail head for the other car. We decided that's what we will do.

From the top of the trail we will be able to see most of Ogden and surrounding towns. Someone told me that from the top, we will be able to see all the way to Nevada. I'm excited to return. I think I'll run up the foothills, twisting, turning and stopping on a dime. When I get to the top, I'll rise on a thermal wind, up over the cliffs and then soar out over the peak.

SHY POETS' SOCIETY

I've always been a little nervous and shy in sharing poetry. Here are the reasons:

1. Macho men don't read or write poetry--especially while eating quiche.
2. Is it written correctly?
3. Is it any good?
4. People who can misinterpret the meaning or epiphany.
5. Don't I have anything better to ponder or do?


MOMENTS

Leaf shadows dance on concrete walks
Waiting to leap into my eyes as sunbeams on clear water
South winds, warm with magic, create the setting
Appreciating the moment creates the mood

ADAMS CANYON

I run into babes like this while hiking--note to self--hike more!

The water mist was wonderful

Dave Alvin "Everett Ruess"

I was born Everett Ruess
I been dead for sixty years
I was just a young boy in my twenties
The day I disappeared.

Into the Grand Escalante Badlands
Near the Utah and Arizona line
And they never found my body, boys
Or understood my mind.

I grew up in California
And I loved my family and my home
But I ran away to the High Sierra
Where I could live free and alone.

And folks said “He’s just another wild kid
And he’ll grow out of it in time,”
But they never found my body, boys
Or understood my mind.

I broke broncos with the cowboys
I  sang healing songs with the Navajo
I did the snake dance with the Hopi
And I drew pictures everywhere I go.

Then I swapped all my drawings for provisions
To get what I needed to get by
And they never found my body, boys
Or understood my mind.

Well I hate your crowded cities
With your sad and hopeless mobs
And I hate your grand cathedrals
Where you try to trap God.

‘Cause I know God is here in the canyons
With the rattlesnakes and the pinon pines
And they never found my body, boys
Or understood my mind.

They say I was killed by a drifter
Or I froze to death in the snow
Maybe mauled by a wildcat
Or I’m livin’ down in Mexico.

But my end, it doesn’t really matter
All that counts is how you live your life
And they never found my body, boys
Or understood my mind.

You give your dreams away as you get older
Oh, but I never gave up mine
And they’ll never find my body, boys
Or understand my mind.