A walk in the park

Last Monday, between arrival in New York City and the first business meeting of the week lay a chance to run in Central Park, something that had always seemed appealing as a great destination run. Maybe I pictured myself as a New York Road Runner’s Club kind of guy—fit, busy, urbane.

My colleague Curt (photo, left) was pleased to be able to squeeze in a quick training session with me for his upcoming Iron Man Triathlon. And wow that’s another story….

So we took a cab from midtown Manhattan to save time and my energy.  The idea was for a brisk five or six miles in the park, then a quick return to business.

It was all going to plan. Except that I had to walk--twice.

I’d rather have not had to do that in front of Curt and the Columbia University women’s cross-country team. 

But, I’m trying to give myself a pardon. The excuses quickly collected:

Central Park is hilly, which I didn’t realize; it was cold and raining; I’m feeling chilled; and I’m still recovering from a diabolical virus.  Haven’t I arrived at a point in my life where I don’t have to prove anything to Curt and  Columbia?  Give that virus another chance and you’ll spend a week here in New York feeling like the devil again.

Sure, I could have pushed through those relatively thin walls of fatigue on the hills and kept my Central Park memory free of an asterisk. 

But isn’t there finally a bit of wisdom in taking a break when you want?  Shouldn't life ultimately allow a walk in the park?

A wind-aided run--and life

Yesterday, on a blustery morning, I finagled things so I could run with the wind at my back. Over the hour, there were a few occasions when I caught a crosswind and even a head wind a time or two, but basically I bounced along with 15-20 miles per hour of Nature helping out. 

The wind-aided 10K was a pleasant change of pace on a winter’s day; with the wind an ally, you can kind of glide along and work on your form.

With lesser strain, perhaps you have more energy for thought. I pondered the meaning of the whole thing. Is wind-aided running fair? Does the day deserve an asterisk?

One could salvage the thought, too, that the trip was a good metaphor for my life. The day before, I stumbled upon an unmarked file in my office and opened it to find a bunch of notes and clippings from early and mid career that had encouraged me in some form. Most of the materials were hand-written notes or more formal memos from bosses, colleagues, and sources from the industry of agriculture I have covered  all of my career. 

During the run, it dawned on me, if it hadn't registered before, how those people had a great deal to do with any success I achieved in those years and that they helped bring me home to this place I am now in life. Then I jumped to the next level of appreciation of all the friends and family who have helped push me along, too. Words for those people would reach to the ineffable.

I've had a wonderfully wind-aided career, and life.  And I should take some time now to try to play that role more often in the lives of others.

 The answer for this day, forgive me, was blowin’ in the wind.

Image: Agriculture.com

A big zero on a business trip

How hard is it to keep running when you’re traveling on business? 

For me, I guess,  it can be like facing the wrong way entrance of a one-way street. In this week’s experience, it dawned on me how cities, convention locations in particular, can be an especially alien environment for running.

So I just went four days without stretching my legs. Zero miles, not a minute. 

There are plenty of excuses and here they are:

The location. Downtown big city. Hilly, heavy traffic in places, surrounded by interstate highways and some sketchy neighborhoods.  And how does one manage all the stoplights?

The meetings. Sometimes early morning, sometimes after hours.  Sometimes at the drop of a hat in the hallway.

The bar. Yes, the hotel had a fitness room, but it was about the size of a rather generous prison cell.  And it was situated about fifty feet from the hotel bar. I did try out the bar.

The food. Trade show food, in particular. There’s something about giving in to a lukewarm hot dog that takes the fight out of you. 

The weather. First there was freezing rain, turning to snow with high winds. Return to fitness room next to bar, if you can.

Sitting. You can do a lot of walking at a convention and trade show, but if you attend meetings and write reports, you’re likely spending a lot of time sitting on your duff. 

Night life. Well, only one night out in this case. But like a trade show hot dog, a couple late-night toddies and a fine, rich meal can sap your will the next day.  (Is this where I admit that I know what it’s like to run with a hangover?)

Lots of excuses, as you can see.  The forces of entropy are easy to summon.

So do you just give in, lower your expectations, maybe just run the hotel stairs a couple times? Jog around the convention center in your street shoes?

Next trip, though, I’ll pack my running togs again, and hope to kick those big city meeting blues.