Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Fugi, Iepure, Fugi! Running for the hills and Iepure, the dog

This is a translation of my previous post, here.
First of all, running. How and why? It's pretty simple actually. About 8 years ago, I was 22, I was juggling an 8 hour job, a relationship that was failing and that required way too much energy and a desperate attempt to finish college one way or another. Obviously, of all the balls flying through the air, some hit the ground.
A few god things happened in a relatively short interval: I ended my relationship that had been long overdue for a re-evaluation, I met a nice girl with her head firmly planted between her shoulders (my current wife), changed my job, passed a few more exams and... climbed onto a bathroom scale. And I decided that I couldn't go on like that. I weighed almost 200lbs and they were pushing down hard, every step I took. I would go hiking every once in a while and suffered every time. Actually, most of the time I spent standing was unpleasant. My physical activity was limited to those hikes and the occasional swim. Then, through a friend I had met at the pool, I met Dani. Dani had his mind set on doing a triathlon. And looking back at these past years, Dani is the champion of fixed ideas. He had set out to get me moving as well, even against my will. I had no problem swimming, I had been swimming for some time and was decent at it. I had also ridden a road bike quite a lot in high school.
There was, however, a problem: a triathlon had a third leg - the run. I did not run. I had never run. In high school I would drop dead after 800 yards. I had had flat feet forever. My legs had hurt for as long as I could remember. I was fat and that made the idea of running even more unappealing. But you don't mess with a fixed idea. The guys took me running. We would do laps in the park, on a figure 8 loop that was close to 2km. I would heave and huff for a few km and I was horrified that in that coming summer I would have to do 10k in one go. Because, of course, we were going to sign up for a triathlon.
So I started running. Painful, slow, step by step, mile by mile. Meanwhile I had gotten a mountain bike and was riding the local hills. Slowly I was loosing some weight. It was getting easier.
Dani and me, at a duathlon, many years ago
That's when I started seriously considering a marathon. It finally happened in 2011 here in Cluj, when with a lot of willpower I pushed myself along for 42km in about 3h 30. I was thrilled on one hand, but also terrified of the consequences: I could barely move, everything hurt and half my face was numb. For a moment it crossed my mind that it might not have been the best of ideas. Despite all that, I did it again in 2012, in 3h 18. This time it was a lot easier. That following winter I did some technique drills and started to run longer distances.
That's when I discovered trail running. Peace, quiet, nature. Slowly it grabbed me. In the meantime I had lost about 45lbs, moved a lot lighter and recovered faster.
Then something else happened: Jason showed up. Jason runs a lot, and all trail. He came over from the US and asked around the office if somebody ran. I said yes, I do. We ran the local hills, Hoia and Faget. I think that was autumn 2012. In 2013 he came again, we ran some more and agreed that next time he would come over (it ended up being July 2013) he would stay until Saturday and we would do a LONG run. He said he wanted an adventure. That's how we ended up running the Rodna ridge, the longest one-day outing I have done to date. It was partly a run, partly a hike. From the 36 miles give or take, for the last 6 or seven I had nothing left to give, physically or mentally. I walked almost all of those last miles. I had taken the wrong shoes, I didn't have enough food - I just wasn't ready. I lost 6 toenails that day.
And, all that being said, I knew we had to do it again. We planned it for may 2014, at the Apuseni Marathon. It was epic. And this time, there was no pain and no suffering.
Majestic as fuck!
In 2014 I ran 4 marathons in total, of which 3 in the mountains, and a long run (but we'll get to that). All this considering that in 2006 I couldn't run 5k in the park.
And finally, Iepure (Rabbit) the dog. In October 2014, two weeks after my last race, I finally got all the gang together for a long run in the mountains: Dani, Jason, Tudor and Catalin. With the help of my cousin who is the absolute guru regarding trails and paths, I put together a track of about 47 km (29 miles), going through some pretty villages, a medieval monastery and some gorges.
L to R: Catalin, Tudor, Dani, Myself and Jason
We slept in a village nearby and we set off from a hilltop. After a couple of miles, a dog joined us. A black, hairy one. It stuck to us like velcro, over hills, through bushes (I have no idea how we ended up in those bushes...) and even swimming through the gorges. I fed it a piece of my sandwich, it was all the food we had except for bars and gels, which he wouldn't touch.
He ran with us more than 26 miles on a day he could have done... anything else.
A few times I was sure he would give up. Once around mile 20, when we picked up some speed running on a wide, flat stretch of road, it looked like he was falling behind. He caught up. The second time, when we had finished and got in the car to drive back to the cabin. I could have sworn he'd never get into the car. He did. The third and last time was when we went inside to wash up and eat. Actually, that's when I set an ultimatum so to speak: I said to myself that if it was still there by the time we were ready to leave, I would risk making my entire family mad, starting with my wife, and take the dog home.
Of course he was waiting right there, next to the car. I think my wife was a hair away from strangling me when I made room for him in the trunk. But he got in, all by himself, and went to sleep.


Now, after less than two months, it seems like the most natural thing: Come on Iepure, jump in! Watch your head! And I get in and we drive off. And of course, everyone loves him. That's because he's the nicest dog ever. And he runs a lot...
We ran 140 miles together in November. And he doesn't even seem tired!

1 comment:

  1. What a lovely story! And you all look exceedingly happy. Life is good, no?

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