Missouri River Trail

Run Time: 59:40 + 2-minute kick

Tried for a run when I got into town, but the thunderstorms were discouraging. Ran the next afternoon instead, and again the morning after that. A rare 3-night stay in one hotel, the inglorious Extended Stay America, which had no coffee maker in the room, and coffee available in the lobby only until 9:30 a.m. This is a crime in states other than Montana.

I have been to Great Falls a few times, and possibly posted before about running here. The last time I was at the Holiday Inn Express along the highway, and I ran up hilly streets. This time the River Trail ran right past my hotel, and who can resist running along the river, even if a busy street runs parallel? The HIEs have gone batshit crazy with their pricing in the wilds of Montana, which is why I ended up in Extended No Coffee America.

I first tried the trail to the south, but that didn’t go far before it peeled away from the river with the road. So then I headed north. You divert away from the river to go around a railroad bridge that is too close to the water for the trail to go under, then you wind along the river for a half-mile or so, then across River Drive and up onto an old railroad grade. After a mile or so of that, it is back down across River Drive and alongside the river again.

I ended up here for 3 nights because I am on a 2-week trip through Montana, Alberta, and Saskatchewan, and I spent the first Friday here on sales calls, and then most of the weekend before I cross into Canada. On Wednesday and Friday of this week I accompanied outside sales reps from a new distributor with branches in Missoula and Great Falls on visits to potential customers, which was a nice break from the standard long drive followed by a cluster of solo sales visits. It was also nice to just be a passenger for a few hours, and to learn about the local areas from a native resident. By native, of course I mean a descendant of imperialist conquerors, not actual natives.

My drives this week have been amazing. Billings to Bozeman to Dillon to Butte to Helena; Helena to Missoula; Missoula to Kalispell to Columbia Falls to Great Falls. The drive from West Glacier to East Glacier alone was spellbinding. The sky actually does appear to be larger here. Thunderstorms in the afternoon and evening were a welcome addition.

My beautiful and thoughtful wife sent me a list of sights to see, and the next day I drove to Giant Spring and to Ryan’s Dam. Giant Spring is, you guessed it, a giant spring right above the Missouri River that pours out 54-degree water year-round. Ryan’s Dam is right above the main Great Falls of the Missouri. The footbridge to the island just below the falls does not open till Mother’s Day, but I got a good look at the falls from the parking area. Then it was on to the Roadside Diner for a Sin City burger and fries.

I seem to cross paths with the Missouri River a lot. It runs all through my sales territory. Helena, Great Falls, Bismarck, Pierre, Chamberlain, Sioux City, Omaha, St. Louis. I am basically the Lewis & Clark of Outside Sales.

That’s a hell of a long way for a river to run. As I ran alongside it yesterday and today, I wondered how long it would take a molecule of water to flow the whole distance of the river. If I spit in the river in Great Falls, could I drive to Omaha and arrive before my DNA? The great questions often remain unanswered. But I suppose if you knew the flow rates of the river at various intervals, you could scientifically estimate it.

In the 40+ year history of the company I work for, we have never shipped a stock order of products to a distributor in Montana. We shipped our first week before last, and we will ship 3 more in the next two weeks. We now have two new distributors here, one with 3 branch locations. More possibly on the way in the near future. So my time here has been fruitful in more than one way.

Next territory to conquer: Wyoming.

Billings Bench Water Association Canal

Run time: 59:36 + 2-minute kick

Hello, Sunshine. Hello, Warmth. Hello, Montana. Who knew I would have to go to Montana to find warm weather? We have had the odd semi-warm day in Michigan this “Spring,” and we have seen the sun a few times, but this was a glorious change.

I found this run just a block or so away from the hotel. I could see a dirt road running along the canal on the phone map. It cut behind some businesses, and when the canal crossed a road, I saw a bicyclist going the other way on a similar dirt road on the other side of the canal, so I hopped over there. Then I continued west, and it was a perfect route. Soft dirt/sod, no one around, beautiful scenery, a mixture of sun and shade, mild inclines and declines – everything you want in a trail run.

You can challenge the merits of dedicating 30% of your life to work, and I do continually when I am on the road, but the merits of a serendipitous run go a long way to mitigating the indignities of selling one’s time and effort for money. That, plus driving through the river valleys of Montana on glorious sunny days, can sprinkle a little meaning on the emptiness of capitalism.

As one gets closer to the end of the prime of one’s life, one tends to become keenly aware of the preciousness of time. I am fond of saying that there is nothing we have more of than time, because everything else we have must fit into the time that we have. Therefore, it is by definition the thing of which we have the greatest amount, and yet we have less every day, every hour, every minute, every moment. That I am spending this precious half-hour posting this blog post that few, if any, will read, is a poignant example of the sometimes cruel reality that only the tiniest fraction of the time we have will be spent on activity with value and meaning. This blog post has value and meaning to me, but not to the universe. IMHO.

My schedule is what one might call packed. I have thousands of podcasts episodes in my listening queue, to fill time between other activities. I have a few hundred books on my library e-shelf, to read during meals and visits to the bathroom. I am a creature of habit, scheduling daily reminders for tasks, affirmations, appointments, and activities. To keep from procrastinating or giving up, I try to act without thinking. Just write when the reminder to work on the novel comes up. Just pull out the guitar when the reminder to practice comes up. Just run when the reminder to run comes up.

It all has value to me, or at least, I have convinced myself that it does. Will it matter, when I die, all of the experiences I have accumulated? No, I think not.

But I suppose that experiences are not accumulated. You pass through them, or they pass through you, or both. No one holds on to an experience. Memories are accumulated, but memories are not experiences. We could say that one of the goals of life is to experience. We can choose to imbue experience with meaning, with value. It might be a pathway to those things.

I experienced value and meaning on this run. I experienced value and meaning writing this blog post. Let’s not overthink it.

Gay Lea Wilson Trail

Run Time: 59:08 + 2-minute kick

This was an unexpected find. I was planning to run at a local high school, but there was track practice. The middle school track across the street was all locked up. A paved trail around a lake on the nearby community college campus looked promising, but it was all permit parking. There was an overpass right by the hotel. It looked like a reclaimed railroad. I drove back a different way from the schools and saw it was a newly paved path.

There was room to run alongside the trail most of the way. A few hikers, a few bikes, but mostly empty. Once I got away from the main road the hotel was on, it was primarily wooded. The trail ran past some wetlands. It actually diverged from the old railroad path, which I tried to take, but that trail was a little overgrown. It had probably been a walking path before they put in the new one.

These urban trail runs are a crapshoot. Since this trail was newly paved, it was safe. Safely is a concern. To the north, the trail ran past some old homeless encampments, as well as a sketchy mobile home park. Fortunately, the ground water had created a moat on both sides of the path. I never felt like I was in peril, but it is not a path I would run after dark.

Most of my meals on this trip were home leftovers, which was a pleasant change. Barb sent me with St. Patrick’s Day corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, and carrots (enough for 2 meals); cajun pasta; Graydon’s Crossing omelette; taco meat, and chile verde. I bought some snacks for the daytime and no dinners. Breakfasts were hotel freebies (other than the omelette).

I have found that I prefer to not eat a large lunch when I am driving between sales calls. I usually will eat a meat stick and some chips at some point during the day, maybe a cookie as well, or a macaroon bar. This leads to pronounced hunger in the afternoon. If I run after getting to the hotel, I am really hungry by the time I eat dinner, which leads to eating too much, usually. The leftovers strategy mitigated that effect slightly.

Next week I am on the road in North Dakota, with outside temperatures down to below zero, so running will be on the treadmill only, unfortunately, if at all. I was glad to sneak this trail run in when it looked like all of my options were depleted.

Prairie Lake Park

Run Time: 59:06 + 2-minute kick

The park was conveniently located about two minutes away from the hotel. The path was paved, but the grass alongside the path was runnable. There were quite a few walkers – I think the relatively spring-like weather brought them out. It was still cool with the wind, but sunny and pleasant.

I did not see much of Cedar Falls – it was just a stopover on my way to a potential new distributor in nearby Fairbank, IA. I purposely avoided Waterloo, because that is where I was when I tested positive for Covid last May. Bad memories, bad juju, whatever. No need to revisit that Holiday Inn Express. My foggy memories notwithstanding, the Cedar Falls locale seemed more picturesque and less urban.

This will be my last driving (as in no flying) trip for awhile. Next week I fly to Minneapolis and drive through North Dakota. Then there will be a serious of trips out west – flights to Denver, Salt Lake City, Seattle, maybe Omaha. It has been good to stay off jets, but I am putting a lot of miles on our Honda. My expenses for this Iowa trip will be low – fuel, hotels, a minimum of food. I brought enough leftovers for four full dinners and one breakfast.

I just found out that I won’t be going to an industry trade show in Vegas this year, which is a blessing. Trade shows are a good place to network, but they are a scourge upon humanity and a scam upon business. Trade shows are how trade show organizers and venues make money. Beyond that, they are superfluous.

One nice thing about driving from home is bringing my guitar with me, so that I can noodle around in the hotel room – exercises, songs, writing songs, etc. With my upcoming flight trips, I will lose out on a lot of practice time. It’s all brainwork – the running, the writing, the guitaring, the work. Gots to keep the brain firing properly.

Use your brain while it works. You never know when it will stop working.

North High School

Run Time: 59:04 + 1-lap kick

Sunny, but cold and windy. Too nice to not run, not too nice to run. The track was deserted – my favorite. I normally do not travel on Sundays, but this week I have to be home Thursday, so I drove to the location of my first sales visit and enjoyed a work-free evening at the hotel.

I got back onto my modified Prefontaine program. For my three running sessions, I ran a little faster each time. For the first 10 minutes, I was just short of 4 laps outer lane. For the second 10 minutes, I was just over 4 laps outer lane. For the third set, I was just over 4 laps outer lane, but the run time was only 9:06. The 1-lap kick was actually a little shower than that set. I was shot at that point.

It felt good to work that hard, to breathe that hard. It felt even better to know I actually ran faster the second set, and even faster the third set. Kicking it up for one lap is one thing. Kicking it up for four laps is tough. I nearly coughed up a lung a few minutes after the run. I think I still have some leftover respiratory matter from my recent cold – or I did, anyway.

I have a lot of travel planned for the next 2 months. After I drive home Thursday from Des Moines, Barb and I drive right back to Storm Lake, Iowa, the next day for a funeral service. After we drive back home Sunday, I fly out the next morning to Minnesota for a week. After I get back from that, we have back-to-back road trips to see the kids – Alex and Rachel in NC, Samantha, Sophie, and Kevin in Ohio. Then I have a few days at home before a 2-week sales trip to WY/MT/SK/AB/ID.

I am just looking forward to the Spring weather. I am looking forward to running in shorts. I am looking forward to driving with the sunroof open. I am looking forward to no piles of dirty snow in the hotel parking lot. I am looking forward to green fields. Road travel in the winter in the Northern U.S. is no fun. I like fun. Bring on the sun.

Scranton Middle School

Run time: 58:14 + 2-minute kick

It was sunny in Brighton. Who could have predicted?

I actually never ran on the Scranton Middle School track, but if I ever stay in Brighton again, I will. It looked very nice. Plus there were trails through the school grounds woods. I thought it was walking distance from the hotel. Turns out it was long distance running distance.

So I cobbled together a run along busy roadways with no sidewalks, around ballparks, through suburban neighborhoods, and down well-manicured ditches. I got to the school over halfway through the run, so I just had to turn around and cobble back toward the hotel. There was actually a guy on a riding lawnmower going over his lawn in one neighborhood. There couldn’t have been much grass to mow, and if he was mowing just to collect the seven leaves that had congregated on his lawn, well, that was overkill.

Random running is not my normal gig. I do not settle in to my run if I do not see the complete setting in my mind. I kept looking at my map app to see how far I was from the school, and what might be the best route to get there, and could I run between two houses to get to a different road. I do not recommend looking at your phone while running.

When the time changes in Spring, I will go back to trail-running. I cannot risk running on a trail in the dark. Track running I can do in the dead of night. I often ran well after dark on the middle school track near our home in Oregon. It is exhilarating to run late at night on a warm summer night, listening to the crickets and the barking of dogs. If you take off the headphones, that is.

Running is a stream-of-consciousness activity. Well, I guess most things are. Running is a freer stream-of-consciousness activity than tasks requiring thought. It’s the body that is doing the work. You can’t let the mind control how to land your foot. Freed from control, it wanders and meanders. It is almost meditative, especially when the breathing is rhythmic. For some reason, meditation is the pursuit of mindfulness, yet also absence of thought. Running is mindlessness.

And the road goes ever on and on.

Avondale High School

Running time: 58:12 + 1-lap kick

A cold, windy track run. No stairs. The bleachers were slick and aluminum and not very accessible. It felt good, though, to just stretch out and run laps, like I used to at the junior high track near our home in Oregon.

I tried Pontiac High School first. It was a mile or so closer to the hotel. Beautiful track, all locked up. What is the harm of leaving a single gate open? Is there going to be rampant vandalism? Are we going to have kids smoking pot in the open, fresh air? If you welcome runners to your school track, you are basically employing a fit, vigilant volunteer security crew. Who appreciates the fact that your track is accessible to them and allowing them to generate endorphins and prolong their life, and they will hunt down and kill anyone who endangers that.

Public schools are community facilities. Never mind that I am not a long-term member of the Pontiac community. I am a temporary member, and I will honor my temporary membership with impeccable behavior. School districts should reach out to community organizations and invite them to use public school facilities, without remuneration, and without a registration and application process that deters and obstructs. Near our house in Oregon, there was a elementary school, the gymnasium of which a local church used every Sunday for services. Never mind about separation of church and state – it was a great partnership. You know they left that gym cleaner than they received it. And more blessed.

The good people of Avondale know this, and they welcomed me to their blustery track with open gates. Kids were coming and going to this or that athletic practice, and a group were kicking a soccer ball around on the adjacent pitch, and SUVs were pulling up and idling for half-hours at a time for pickup and dropoff, and no one harangued me for running on the track without permission. Permission is implied. Public schools are public spaces. I can see why we do not want random adults wandering into middle school libraries during the school day, but open up a gym when it’s not in use and invite the locals in for some pickup basketball. Drag the baseball field in July and invite the locals in for sandlot ball. Find local artists and ask them if they will teach community members how to draw or paint or play guitar in one of the empty classrooms on a weekend or in the evening.

Will it go perfectly? No. Will it be worth it? Hell, yes.

Mount Pleasant High School

Run time: 58:10 + 1-lap kick

Another lonely winter track, with leaves piled onto walkways, and mats laid across the track for the football players to access the field. This one had cement grandstands on both sides, so I ran a lot of stairs. The grandstands were built on human-made hills, which helped to block the wind.

Yes, we had sun. It does not rain a lot in Michigan, but neither does it sun a lot. What it does a lot is cloud. This is way different from Utah. My guess is that everyone in Michigan is Vitamin D deficient. So the blue sky this day was welcome.

The stairs were tricky – uneven, non-uniform, and crumbly. This made it interesting. Since I learned about the proper pitch of stairs by watching “This Old House,” I am keenly aware of stairs that require a stride too long or too short. Uneven pitches are good for the brain – they demand attention. I caught the toe of my running shoe just once, on the way up, so no emergency room visits.

It was a cold, dry week. I was able to circumnavigate the state in our Honda Accord – no need to rent an AWD. The 2+ feet of snow we got right before Christmas had melted away, along with the giant icicles that hung from our eaves. The snow interrupted my home running schedule. Samantha and Sophie flew in Christmas morning and stayed till New Year’s Eve. I got my exercise dancing and running up and down the hall and laughing and clowning around.

Christopher was also home for a month. He lobbied hard to go to the cinemas to watch “Violent Night.” We did. We sat in the empty theater, eating popcorn and alternately laughing and cringing. Was it the best artistic work I have seen? No. Was it funny and well-made? Yes. I have a feeling it will become part of the family holiday film canon in years to come.

It was a low-key Christmas. Alex and Rachel flew to Utah to be with her family. Kevin stayed home to watch the dog. They would have added to the frivolity. Back in Oregon there would be drop-in visits from friends to add some spice. Our neighbors John and Lynn came over for a wonderful enchilada dinner prepared by Barb before their holiday trip to California. We all missed Ruby – first Christmas without her.

Now it is a new year with new plans and new goals and each day new, an unending series of uneven stairs.

Ben Franklin Junior High School

Run time: 57:48.5 + 1-lap kick

You get to the hotel after a long day of driving and sales visits, and you have just enough time for half a run before darkness falls, so you pull out the phone and look for a running track, and you find one, and you change into your running gear, and you drive to the junior high school, and you get the headphones on and the song started, and you hit the track, and it’s… cement.

I am picturing the advent of this junior high when it was new. They put Jed in charge of installing the track. He laid it out and dug out the oval and measured everything twice and graded it perfectly flat. Then he poured the cement. When it dried, he painted the lane lines. And all done, he proudly called over the Principal to view his work. And the Principal looked at it and said, “Jed, is that cement?”

Either that, or they figure middle schoolers have young knees and hips and recover quickly from scrapes and bruises. If you think that running is a 100% vertical activity, I have a sidewalk in Vegas to show you. Yes, track surfaces probably wear out quicker than cement, and they are easier to vandalize, but really? Are there no track meets held at this school? And does the school district not have standards for the surface on which the meets are held? Could it be gravel? That’s even less expensive.

I dealt with it. It was 28 degrees, with a 15 mph wind, so comfort had already departed. The lane lines are the mostly important feature for me for my winter running, though a springy surface is a close second. I am just thinking of those poor Wisconsin kids. They deserve better.

Sometimes you just have to roll with it.

Ashwaubenon High School

Run time: 57:46.5 + 1-lap kick

Another dusk track run, another upscale high school. This is only a few miles from historic Lambeau Field, where the Packers play. I was never a Packers fan, though I never rooted strongly against them either. I watch little football these days. The racism of the sport turned me off. I will start watching again if Kaepernick plays.

Whatever I might accomplish with a boycott is personal. That goes for any boycott, not just the NFL. If I intentionally avoid eating at Chick-Fil-A, or watching Fox News, or re-watching Woody Allen movies, it is for my own personal benefit. It helps to align my actions with my reasoned thoughts. I harbor no illusions that my personal activism will have a direct impact on people or institutions with which I disagree.

It might, however, have a small impact on another person. If I choose to boycott NFL football, and someone witnesses this, it might inspire them or give them permission to better align their actions with their reasoned thoughts. It is an added bonus if they learn that they can act with intention for this reason alone, not to be part of a group or a movement.

I have not thought sufficiently about this to make judgments, but grouping oneself in with others seems related to tribalism, which might have run its course as a valuable human trait. Even if you think the group is “right,” or on the right side of an issue, collective action seems to have the potential for corruption and misguidance. If you are part of a group that seeks growth in the pursuit of power and influence over an issue, have you given up on the idea of personal autonomy?

What if humans had never been tribal? What if no human had ever surrendered to the will of another, or sacrificed personal autonomy for inclusion in a group, or followed no internal compass but their own? What if complete uniqueness were the valued trait?

This reminds me of the scene in “Life of Brian” when the mob of followers is waiting outside of Brian’s home, and he tried to convince them that they don’t need to follow anybody, and they repeat back to him, “Yes, we’re all individuals. Yes, we’re all different.” Then one guy says, “I’m not.” I want to be that guy.

Actually, of course, I don’t want to be anyone other than who I am. I love being a part of my family, but other than that, I do not want to be a member of any group. I also love how this post started out with the Packers and found its way to Monty Python, as all posts should.