Getting Better

Getting Better
by Monte Riggs

As these mornings get gradually colder I strangely no longer look for excuses to stay home. In fact it has become a kind of test of strength that I've begun to relish in a way I haven’t as a runner in a long time. Why this kind of insanity? For several years I began to think my body was in steady decline and allowed myself to slip into sad acceptance of that apparent deterioration. After 3 decades in which running had become a big part of my life I started to wonder if my running days might be over. I had seen it happen to friends. Perhaps my time had come as well. But now, for the first time in a long time, I am seeing evidence of improvement in both strength and endurance. I realized it is my mental outlook that changed the most.

I moved to Presidio County in June, coming from an altitude of less than 100 ft. to almost 5000 ft. When I first started running here I quickly started to dread the morning run. The modest hills on Mimm’s Ranch road combined with the altitude left me wheezing and walking before I reached the top. The rough washboard texture of the road made my ankles and knees hurt and finding a comfortable place to step difficult at best. I had grown accustomed to a well worn foot path whose 3 mile loop I had long ago memorized.

This morning is cold by my standards, at least running north where the rough gravel road takes me into the teeth of a north wind for half of my run. The return is warmer with a slight tail wind and brilliant sunshine heating me enough that I often have to shed a layer of running gear. Waves of sparrows or chickadees in silhouette against the bright morning sunlight break away before me, launching themselves from the tall grasses and creosote bush to scatter across the road ahead of me, their flight pattern a rhythm of rising and falling just above the tops of the grasses surfing on the slowly warming air. I find that regardless of the conditions, my focus is more on the beauty of my surroundings rather than any discomfort from running. Occasionally I am so moved I feel compelled to stop and watch a small raptor gliding low across the pasture or the color of the grasses and sky even on a cloudy day. Because I have bad feet, running for me has always been accompanied by some level of discomfort and pain realizing that at age 63 I can get better makes the daily ritual of exercise fun again.

Well, HELLO there triceps! So good to know you again!

"Ayyyyyhhhhh!"

Mornings?  Lovely here in the Chihuahuan Desert.  The birds sing; soft breezes rustle the curtains.  But stand outside my window this morning, and you wonder, "what the heck is going ON in there?" 

Oh, that's just ME.  I'm working out.

"Grrrrrrmph."  (bicep curl)  "Pffffft."  (ab crunch)  "Ayyyhhhhhh!"   (tricep extension)
 
See, I'd let things slack.  While I'd added much more to my plate in the past couple of years--more adventure (cycling, trail running, mountain biking) and more responsibilities (new work duties and volunteer efforts)--I'd let something important slide.  For some reason, I stopped my regular workouts with weights.

I credit lifting with reshaping my body when I first got fit ten years ago, but more than that, it gave me power.  The weights made me step away from the weakling self-image I'd held since grade school sports jamborees, where it was a documented fact I never measured up.  No fancy equipment or gym was required for this change; I used hand weights to build muscle.  It wasn't long before I stood taller.  My running stride got stronger. My often-sore back stopped hurting.  I felt more confident all the way around.

I'm almost back to square one.  When I started ten years ago, I started light...just 2-and 3-lbs.  This time around, my starting point was 8-lbs.  Some of the old workout was a breeze right away, and I know I can easily double that weight in short order.  Some exercises  are hard, and I'm grunting my way through my workouts.

But, I'm having fun getting back into shape, grunts and groans notwithstanding.  I know the effort and the  soreness is getting me somewhere.  The burn I feel on those triceps are going to lead to toned, but more importantly, STRONGER arms.

Where I've hiked, but not yet been bouldering....Hueco Tanks State Park and Historic Site in Far West Texas, one of the best bouldering sites in the world.
This year, I'll get strong enough to go bouldering there!

See, I've got a goal beyond sleek triceps.  I've been in Far West Texas for seven years now, and it is about time I get my 54 year old body onto the rocks of Hueco Tanks and start bouldering.  Sure, I've been hiking there.  I've scrambled up rocks and explored pictographs on the overhangs and in the caves.  But now's the time to build upper body strength and try one of the best bouldering sites in the world.  Why wait?

So while all this exercise makes my tummy flatter and my behind a bit smaller, what really matters to me is the strength and the power.  I'm not very muscly even at my fittest.  Lifting, even lifting just hand weights ramps up the confidence level another notch.  I'll be facing a fear of heights (although you don't go THAT high in bouldering) and conquering some epic rock!

That gentle burn in the triceps?  That's the signal I'm looking for: validation that I'm working hard enough to get a little closer to my goal.  So while I freely admit I like to look good, what I can DO is much more important.  I'm going to get out and climb that rock!