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Week 23: Nostalgic Returns, Breaking Up Dogfights and the Act of Becoming

Over the holidays, we spent a week where I grew up in Alabama.

We spent time with my mother and brother, caught up with great friends, ate good meals, relaxed on the beach, and enjoyed the warm weather.

I ran by my childhood home and those of my friends, who have all since moved away as well. I took videos and little messages and sent them to those friends. It was a fun way to make the miles go by quicker.

And it was nostalgic as all hell.

Every hill and clearing held memories, long ago locked away deep in my memories. Images flooded my brain as I remembered things I hadn’t thought of in decades.

We visited parks I played at as a child, now watching my own kids run, laugh, and roughhouse in these places.

We swam in the Gulf of Mexico (for about 3 seconds it was cold). We dipped our toes in Mobile Bay.

We explored the WW2 battleship USS Alabama that I camped on as a boy scout when I was a kid. (tradition with the oldest)

And in the year when I turned 40, I hadn’t considered how much I maybe needed to be reminded of these things, of the things I did and knew when I was young.

Life is funny that way.

Couch to Ultramarathon

Last week while running near my childhood home in Alabama, I ran into a crazy incident.

Jogging along the golf course I grew up on without headphones in since lots of folks were out testing their new golf toys. I approach a cart crossing and hear a lady screaming for help.

“Help! Help! Help!”

As I come around the corner, I see two big pit bulls pinning her considerably smaller dog down (a Corgi I think). With nothing but my running pack, I wasn’t about to grab these dogs, so I looked around for a good stick. Finding a hefty one, I got behind the biggest pit bull to give him a little smack on the behind.

Well, my adrenaline must have been pumping something fierce, because I broke that stick off on that big dog’s ass causing his to yelp and jump.

Which certainly got their attention.

As the two pit bulls circled off the Corgi I realized I was now just holding what was essentially a poker.

NOT GOOD, BOB.

So I went animal kingdom on them, bowing up and yelling and hollering, trying to look as mean as possible.

Just then a couple golfers ran over and some folks had even stopped their car on the street and came running over to help. Just then the pit bull owners also arrived, while to Corgi owner laid into them yelling at them and saying she was going to call the cops.

Seeing that her dog was not injured but just frightened (same could be said for the lady), I let the rest of them argue it out and slipped away quietly to continue my run.

Once I got done that day, my watch sent me a curious notification that a “new max heart rate” was detected. Being that the run wasn’t too strenuous, I was confused, until I remembered the dog incident!

I went back and looked at the heart rate data for the run and saw a huge spike when the dog fight occurred, a literal fight-or-flight response.

Cool to see the data on something like that as well.

Aside from that it was a fun and relaxing Christmas Day.

But here we are.

I’m tired of talking about it.

I’m ready to go get it done.

I’ve written ad nauseum about what this newfound journey of ultrarunning has brought to my life. It’s made me more patient, more empathetic, and helped build confidence to take on even more difficult challenges.

The weather looks like it’ll be terrible. Snowy, rainy, and cold.

Within minutes, it’s going to be a mudfest out there. 31 miles of slogging through a frigid swamp.

But none of it matters.

I’ve trained in the rain. I’ve slipped and fallen in the mud. I’ve been cold and run harder to warm up.

And it’s time.

It’s time to stop shouting those affirmations in the mirror and go get the undeniable proof…the undeniable proof of becoming.

This week I become an ultramarathoner.

Who are you becoming?