So I loaded up my posse in the truck tonight and headed out to North Charleston’s Riverfront Park. Built on a section of the old Charleston Navy Base this park is a not entirely hidden gem of North Chuck. This was my third time running this park. After all, there are only so many times in a row I can traverse the Greenway.
I should have known something was up with my imaginary friends when Fudo Myo-o offered to ride in the back, as did Alecto- who normally prefers roof rack skiing. OK, I can handle a peaceful drive with St. Sebastian and the Monk in the cab with me. We parked the truck a bit away from the park itself near Storehouse Row. The whole place has the feel of a decrepit dystopia. The promised economic development of the area has been spotty at best, but this will lead to some really great run sites as my endurance improves. I started to stretch and open the evening’s run program on my phone. That’s when I saw Fudo Myo-o and Alecto unloading my mountain bike from the truck. I hesitated to even ask, but how could I not?
“So, what’s the story with the bike?”
“Alecto thought it might make you run faster if you had something to chase.” Alecto nodded agreeably. When the fury of constant anger is agreeable…
“You’ve added a rear fender to my bike. Why?”
“I need a place to sit.”
“So let me get this straight, you’re going to ride on the back fender and hang on to Alecto while she pedals, and I’m going to chase after you?” I don’t remember this being in any write up of my training schedule.
“Nope. I’m going to be sitting turned around backwards facing you. I won’t fall off. I’m the Immovable One.”
“And this will motivate me how? Are you planning to dangle a carrot from a stick?”
“A carrot wouldn’t motivate you.” He was right about that.
“Unless there was a vat of Ranch dressing to dip it in.” Alecto added, swapping high-fives with Fudo Myo-o. Great. The Fury is displaying a sense of humor. St. Sebastian said nothing and gave his calm martyr look, the Monk just looked serene. “OK, let’s get this show on the road.”
I let the biking duo take the lead. At first, they contented themselves with riding circles around me while I did what should have been a five minute warm up walk. At about two minutes Fudo Myo-o whips out a bullhorn (who knows what else he has hidden in that cloak) and booms, “This is FM radio; the FM standing for Fudo Myo-o of course…” I won’t repeat was I was thinking at this point, as it was not terribly polite. “Let’s get started with our running segment with this cheerful upbeat music!”
“I’m supposed to walk for five minutes first.”
“Alecto, what is that word that rhymes with ‘walk’?”
“Is it WUS, F.M.?”
“Yep, that was the word I was thinking of, now let’s get running!”
So I did what seemed to be the easiest thing at the time, and I started jogging. I was not going into an all out sprint at this point and I ran for a good two minutes. I know this doesn’t seem like much, but for me three minutes at a stretch is about my limit at this point. FM noticed me lagging.
“That’s OK, go ahead and catch your breath for a minute, and we’ll start running again. I figure you can hear me better while you’re walking, so I’ll take this time to share a word from our sponsors.”
We have sponsors?
“Oh wait, that’s right, we don’t have any sponsors because no one would want to sponsor anyone who MOVES THIS SLOW.”
Who gave this guy a bull horn? After about a minute I started jogging again. At least he was playing some decent music which ironically, is from the same playlist that I used when I first started running. Back then I found it more than mildly annoying. Tonight I found it oddly motivating. What gives? After a little over two minutes I slowed back down to a walk. I kept a brisk pace until it was time for the first set of knee lifts, which precede each round of interval training which tonight was a minute jogging followed by a minute walking. I got through the first few sets with no issue, except for the “cheering section” in front of me.
I tried to tune out the running commentary and instead focused on the music, which I was actually enjoying. There are lots of different surfaces to run over- boardwalks, concrete, hard pack trails, rubberized pathways, and thick lush turf. There are also various architectural elements and statues to enjoy, as well as varied lighting which has a tendency to alter the way things appear. I particularly enjoy the contrast of the concrete and steel with the Live oaks dripping Spanish Moss. I was trying to think about relevant metaphors when I was ripped out of my pleasant reverie by, “Move it 42! It’s time for the running portion of this run. I’m calling you your age instead of your weight which is much longer to say and is 4.71 times as much…”
And here I was thinking I was doing well for having broken 200 pounds. Shows you what I know. But, it was time for the running portion. That involves thirty seconds of fast running (for me at least) followed by a minute of walking. I took off after the furiously pedaling Alecto. I really put a lot into that segment, not knowing how I was going to fare with the fifteen minute “free form run” that follows. The idea is to run as much of that segment as you can. Even during my last walk my legs felt heavy, I had a cramp in my ribs, I was out of breath, and could tell it was definitely time to replace my shoes. Even though I was being circled by a Buddhist deity and a Fury on a bicycle humming the Jaws theme and coming ever closer to running into me I kept walking. I decided I would walk the first four minutes, and then see what I could accomplish. As I shifted into a jog the Monk came up next to me.
“Run in the grass.”
“Excuse me?”
“Run in the grass, especially where the sprinklers have been on. Just run back and forth in the grass for a while.”
So I did. And soon, it was just the Monk, St. S, and I jogging along peacefully. Still, my legs felt so heavy. I was starting to look down. Then the monk spoke to me again. This was the most I had ever heard him say. “When you run keep your eyes focused about 100 feet ahead, keep your head level, your shoulders relaxed, and your back straight.”
Sebastian chimed in, “I’ll let you in on a tip. How I got through the firing squad that should have killed me was by acknowledging the pain. That, and faith. I actually focused on how it felt, and then allowed my mind to release that. I was in tune with everything around me, my body, the environment, God- I know that one’s a little tough for you, but you can roll with the other two, right? What you are feeling is temporary. It will pass.”
So we ran and walked through the grass, but I was able to do more. All the while the cycling duo was on the more durable surfaces balancing on handlebars and trying silly stunts. It was quite amusing, actually. With five minutes of my workout to go I started back to the truck, and I jogged the last three of those. Yep, at the end of the workout. Three minutes. Go me.
Once I stopped I checked the timer and GPS. 50 minutes, three miles. Three miles! That’s almost a 5K! I’m glad there was no one around to see me jumping up and down. Sure, it’s about a 17 minute mile which I’m sure power walkers could easily cover, but it felt like a big achievement to me. Fudo Myo-o was smug. “See, our motivation technique worked.” I did not grace him with a response.
We loaded back up in the truck, and once I was in the cab with the Monk and Sebastian I thanked them both. I would eventually thank Alecto and Fudo Myo-o as well, but that would take more time. We were almost back home when I heard a pounding from the back, and a chant of, “Fourth Meal, Fourth Meal, Fourth Meal!” I was admittedly feeling a little peckish, and quite thirsty, so I promptly undid all the good I had just done by a trip through the Taco Bell drive through.
Hey, progress, not perfection, right?
A special “Thank you” to my friend Diane. See, you didn’t even need the bull horn and bicycle, and we can still laugh about it.
Late Night Running 