Hiking in Sand Run Metro Park

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

I drove to Akron after work to pick Heidi up from her job with the Akron Beacon Journal.  We had plans for dinner, but since I hadn’t had a chance to do anything for a workout, I suggested a hike at Sand Run Metro Park.

We parked and I set my keys on the hood while I changed into my hiking shoes.  There was a cool breeze blowing and I considered an extra layer, but Sand Run offers many steep climbing trails and I picked one so we could work up a sweat and stay comfortable without the extra gear.

We were half way up a ridge and breathing heavily when Heidi began to complain about her conditioning.  “I’m glad we’re not in the Adirondacks right now.  I am WAY out of shape.”

The hill we were climbing was at least twice as high and considerably steeper than any trail in the North Chagrin Reservation.  It would be an excellent training park for hiking in the Adirondacks and the runs I’d done here had left me exhausted.  We crested the hill and walked along the ridge to an open field which we quickly realized served as a sledding hill.  At the top was a large, steel chimney with a sliding hatch at the bottom that was partially open.  There was smoke and an orange glow emanating from it and when I realized it was a warming pit for sledders, I was jealous.  There was a pile of fire wood off to one side and since the coals were burning down, I decided to throw a couple of logs in.  To accomplish this, I needed to lift them overhead and toss them up over the top to the top of the chimney, which was about seven feet tall.  “Now I want to stay here and burn wood and get smoke all over my clothes.  I love that campfire smell,” I said.

Heidi was not interested in watching the fire; she had eating on her mind and so we turned and headed back to the car.  We managed an hour of hiking and congratulated ourselves on doing a little something before eating a greasy cheeseburger and fries at Larry’s.

Hike duration:  60 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  90 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  350.

Icy run...

Tuesday, 3/25/2014
Yesterday’s back pain was a fading memory.  As I drove home from Warren though, snow began to fall.  I had a dinner engagement with Marla, my partner in ‘OhioActive’ and long-time friend.  I had a limited opportunity to work out and with the snow falling and road conditions worsening, I started to worry I’d miss another workout.  Since I was driving by the East Branch Reservoir, home of my eagle nest and the best pictures I’d ever gotten of a bald eagle and some damned good running trails, I decided to pull in and run before the trails were snow-covered.

I managed about five minutes of running on a bridle trail before coming to a stretch that was snow-covered.  As I started running across and my feet began sliding, I realized it wasn’t snow at all, but ice.  Like a cartoon character, I went through several spins with flailing arms before regaining some semblance of balance and dignity, as I came to a stop…without falling.  I walked gingerly for several yards before again finding clear trail.  This pattern continued for the next several miles and with the wind whistling snow in my face, I found myself back at the car covered in ice and soaked through to my skin in what seemed like a death march.  I’d managed 45 minutes; a very good effort and much closer to my goal of 59 minutes I’d need to do for the birthday run in three weeks.  I really need a couple of weeks of clean roads and warmer temperatures if I’m to get in the riding distance I need and unless I install an ice breaker on the front of the kayak, I doubt I’ll be in the water anytime soon.  I really should have been born in June…or live closer to the equator.

Run duration: 45 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 140 bpm.
Calories Burned: 765.

Low back flair-up...

Monday, 3/24/2014
I drove towards the North Chagrin Reservation planning to do the Survival Workout.  As I drove though, a pain in my low back began to grow and expand.  I found myself shifting around in my seat trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail.  By the time I arrived at the park, the pain was excruciating and I could hardly get out of the car.  I stood, tried to stretch, and thought about running…or not.  Not won.

I don’t know where it came from and by the end of the evening, it was gone.  I get them now and again…maybe once every six months though they tend to last longer once they set in.  I suspect that all the unusual work performed on the boat over the weekend; I'd gotten into several tight spots and had lifted many heavy items from off-balance positions, could have been the culprit.  My routine includes a good deal of core strengthening, which is preventive, but certainly not a guarantee.  I do need to include a little more low back work and I know how to do that with my rocks and the right movement.  I’m looking forward to a complete thaw when all my logs and rocks will again be available to me, though the forecast says that day is still a ways off.  We’re looking at another snow storm tomorrow with extremely cold temperatures through Thursday.   

Engines rumble to life...

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Nathan picked me up at nine and we drove to the boat talking about firing up the two, 327 Corvette engines that powered the ‘Miss Ellie’.  “They haven’t been run in several years, but there was oil in them and they look pretty good.  I’m thinking we’ll get them running,” he said.  I wasn’t as confident.

He and a friend spent a couple of hours working on the engines while I continued to strip hardware and wood from the deck.  Rotting wood made it easier as I began to simply pry screws, and the wood to which it was attached, away from the deck; it was that rotted.  The deck was being replaced anyway, so what the hell.

It was the third day of spring, but no one had notified the wind whipping across the lake and blasting us with frigid air.  Snowflakes were falling, as well.  No matter.  I was working hard and staying warm.  Dakota, on the other hand, had retreated to the truck and was curled up on the back seat. 

At some point, the owner of the marina, a noted psychopath, came by to inquire about our activities.  This was the first human we’d seen in our three trips to the marina; not uncommon for the time of year.  After she realized she knew who he was since his family had been docking there for over twenty years, he explained the nature of our efforts to rehab the boat and buy a slip from her to keep it there in the coming year.  She did not know the previous owner, she said, and drove off. 

A little after noon, Nathan announced he was ready to fire the engines.  I pulled out my video camera, filmed him pouring high octane fuel into the carburetor of the port engine, and then reach for the key.  “Here goes,” he said, and turned the key.

There was an initial rumbling, the sound of an engine trying to catch, but then suddenly it exploded to life.  Nathan had the throttle wide open and the noise that came from the engine, smooth, loud and powerful, was that of any hopped-up ’68 Corvette might make if its owner was revving the engine at a light to try and impress nearby gawkers.  Standing on the deck just behind the engine, I could feel the power of the pistons as they roared to life.  Amazed at how good it sounded, I found myself with tears in my eyes and thinking that my dad would be so pleased.  In fact, I felt his presence there with me, smiling and nodding approval.

The starboard engine did not run so smoothly; Nathan determined the plugs and points would need some work, but it did turn over and run.  We spent the next couple of hours completing our tasks of removing all hardware from the decks and by 4 p.m., were packing up and heading for home.

Two days of long hours in the cold had taken its toll.  I was tired and once home, didn’t even consider a workout.  I realized how important good mobility was to climbing around the hold of a boat though as I was cleaning out around and behind the engine.  It’s like the crawl space under a house; a couple of feet of height and something bumping you at every turn.  I need some more stretching and increased flexibility if I’m going to continue this work.

Long day of tiring work that felt like a workout...

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Transem dry rot...it'll be replaced.

I’d been planning to go to Fairport Harbor to do some work on the boat Saturday morning, but only after doing my home chores.  The yard was a mess and I wanted to get some of it together before things began blooming and my task would become more difficult.  My nephew, Nathan, had called the day before to say he’d be going to the boat on Sunday with the goal of turning over the engines, shoring up the hull and covering the boat against the weather.  As I ate breakfast though, I received a text from him saying he could get away from work and head for the boat that morning and did I want him to pick me up.  Of course I agreed.

I hurried out and packed up grasses I’d cut down the night before that were now blown across the yard.  So much for getting ahead.  I worked for an hour before he arrived; loaded my tools into his truck and drove to the marina.  Though dressed warmly, six hours in the outdoors working in temperatures in the thirties took its toll. 

I arrived home around five chilled to the bone and pretty beat up.  I’d climbed up and down an 8’ step ladder to get on and off the boat and to work my way around it trying to remove wooden trim that I would be refinishing and replacing after we replaced the deck.  There was a good deal of time spent on hands and knees crawling into tight places to loosen bolts and remove salvageable pieces parts.  We’d loaded everything we’d be reusing and had removed to a storage site, which meant more hauling and carrying from truck to basement. 

I could have ridden the trainer or gone for a run, but elected instead to take a hot shower, download pictures on facebook of the boat progress, and eat a warm dinner while watching an episode of ’30 Rock’.  I struggled to keep my eyes open; exercise was a vague apparition.  Besides, I figured I needed my rest for tomorrow when we’d again attack the boat with the hopes of firing up the engines, something that had not happened in over four years.

A 'cool' ride...

Friday, March 21, 2014
Since I’d done so little outdoor riding through the winter, Friday’s mid-forties temperature did not seem very inviting for a ride.  A year ago, I’d done at least half of my winter rides outdoors because of the lack of snow and warmer temperatures…warmer being a relative word.  I’d taken several rides with temperatures below 35 degrees then, so mid-forties should have seemed like a heat wave.  With that in mind, I dressed for a ride and steeled myself. 

My clothing concessions to the weather amounted to two pair of socks, gloves, a long-sleeved t-shirt under my riding jersey and a stocking hat under my helmet.  All proved to be effective – almost.

I headed out with the wind at my back thinking I’d ride around 30 miles.  The roads were almost completely dry; there was some snow melt from extremely high piles that were still melting.  I headed into Waite Hill riding up several minor hills, forcing myself out of the saddle.  I had a good sweat rolling when I turned around and began heading into the wind for the second half of the ride.

Now the chill factor was kicking in.  It was getting late and the sun was setting.  With a 20mph blow in my face, it felt more like 10 degrees.  I was still plenty warm except my feet.  I had about 30 minutes to get home and they were painful.  Pulling into the driveway was a relief, though walking on frozen feet proved painful as I stepped from the bike.

I should have worn my booties.  I could have ridden on the trainer.  I’m glad I didn’t, though.  I’d have never ridden two hours inside and if I have any hope of being ready for a birthday triathlon, I need some road miles.  After a warming shower, I spent an hour doing yard work; cutting the oriental grasses I should have removed the previous fall and raking leaves out of the gardens.  I needed to get a jump on my yard so I could spend the weekend working with Nathan on the boat.

Bike duration: Two hours.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories Burned: 1700.

Tricky trail conditions...

Thursday, March 20, 2014
I drove to the park prepared for a muddy run.  The trails were almost completely ice free now, but puddles abound.  As I ran though, I was pleasantly surprised to find it was not as bad as I had suspected.  To some degree, the dirt was partially frozen making the footing solid.  I did find that the hiking trail surface of dirt was giving way beneath the weight of my steps as I ran, almost like ice.  I suppose it had heaved up slightly from being saturated and then re-frozen and could not support the impact of running.  It was an unusual sensation to have each step feel as though I would break through the turf, though.

I started the run heading uphill.  I like to get hills out of the way early in a run rather than finish going up one, but once reaching the top, it seemed to take ten minutes to catch my breath.  I’m really a long way from being in running shape – or cycling for that matter, and suspect I’ll be sucking wind for the next several weeks as I regain my ‘Tour Ohio’ level of conditioning.  My 59^th birthday is approaching and I’ve been questioning whether I will attempt the ‘birthday triathlon’ this year.  I could run the 59 minutes by then and likely be ready to ride 59 miles, but I doubt I’ll put the kayak in the water anytime soon and putting all three together may be too much to expect with only three weeks to go.  I’ll play it by ear.

I’ve made a couple of trips into the tall grass that borders the rugby field looking for golf balls.  The grass grows about hip high in the summer and balls hit in there are basically gone.  The weight of the snow pushed it all down though, and revealed last fall’s errant shots.  I grabbed 44 balls over three days and now have probably 800 or so.  I either need to take up golf and lose some of them or consider renting a storage unit to put them in. 

I had some leftover Amish casserole when I got home, but held it to one helping because Jack and I were planning on meeting Jason at ‘The Local Tavern’ for a burger after his rugby practice two hours later.  I was still full when my food came; I decided on a bowl of corned beef stew, but couldn’t finish it.  I was proud that I didn’t force it down just because I’d paid for it. 

I’m looking forward to some sunshine tomorrow and possibly comfortable temperatures for a good outdoor ride.  I rode eight centuries in 11 days during Tour Ohio, so a 59-mile ride in three weeks shouldn’t be a big deal…right?

Run duration: 37 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 140 bpm.
Calories Burned: 625.