When author Heidi Hill was writing Fit Family, she received advice from many parent/athletes.  Two of the most helpful were Dave Blumenthal and his wife, Lexi Shear.  They provided stories of hiking and skiing and several photos which we used in the book.  Dave is the tall fellow in the photo below.

Dave was killed in a bike/truck collision in Colorado last week.  Dave was competing in the Tour Divide race  which runs the length of a 2,745-mile trail that crisscrosses the Continental Divide in the Rocky Mountains.  It has been described as the toughest mountain bike race in the world.  Here is a writeup from our local paper.

One of the ideas we used in the book was the Young Adventurers Club which was conceived by Dave and Lexi.  It's a wonderful example of how active parents can engage their kids in a variety of outdoor activities.

Dave and Lexi also shared with Heidi Hill some examples from their two-week hike in Austria when their daughter, Linnaea, was an infant. They noted that while they had to carry more because of lugging an infant, going hut-to-hut gave them many options.   Let me share a few of their thoughts:

 

 “We usually had breakfast and then Linnaea would just about jump in the pack. She’d fall asleep within ten minutes and we’d put our noses down and hike. She usually slept for about an hour and then would look around for another hour, totally content. We’d stop for an hour – some place useful for a stop. We usually hiked about seven hours a day, but it varied depending on when we arrived at a hut as we’d have to make a decision whether to stop or go on to the next one.

Linnaea is an aggressive eater and eats anything we’re interested in. This was fortunate since a lot of what was served at the huts wasn’t kid fare. In town, she was eager for fresh fruit and yogurt. We also carried the European equivalent of graham crackers. These were easy to feed her in the pack and they were handy if she was restless and we had another half hour before getting to the hut.

A challenge was that the sleep set-up was different every night. The huts varied from being like a cheap hotel room to haylofts of a barn to a rustic cabin. The best scenario was when there was a line of mattresses on the floor. We could move them into a corner and move furniture around so Linnaea didn’t flip into anything. We learned a lot about how she slept – how she flips around – which is typical for a child… We were worried about how she’d sleep in a new place every day, but it wasn’t a big deal.

Austria was a good location for hiking with kids for a couple of reasons. We didn’t need to bring extra equipment because we stayed in huts. Also, the hiking was pretty but it was never really remote. If the weather was too cold or she wasn’t into it, we could walk downhill a couple of hours and get to a bus or a train and go to a village. It was easy to bail out.”

A memorial service will be held at Green Mountain Club on July 10, 2010 at 3:30pm with a walk on the Short Trail (a one-mile loop) to follow. 

 

 

I’ve just finished a great book called “On Watching Birds” by the late Lawrence Kilham -- who was widely known for his work with viruses and infectious diseases and later in life, became a distinguished expert in the behavior of birds, particularly woodpeckers.  It is a fascinating book.

I was thinking of his philosophy today when out hiking with the Vizsla.  I had binoculars along and was hoping to see some early migrants.  We’ve had a taste of winter and the ground is frozen, the wind nippy, and the birds pretty quiet.  As we climbed and climbed and there was nothing moving -- except the dog who was running to and fro, having a great time -- I started to get a little frustrated.  (Two weeks ago, I was hearing all sorts of bird calls and seeing 20 species or more on a walk .. in Texas.)  Then I thought of the book and Kilham's writing, particularly this passage:

“Enthusiasm for the beauty of life helps to keep the brain alive.  And there is a practical aspect to it. Things do not always happen when one goes out to watch birds.  There can be long stretches when nothing much seems to be going on, as when watching by the nest of a Pileated Woodpecker.  At these times I switch to thinking about how beautiful the world is, and instead of being impatient that the bird does not return, I find myself at peace with the world.”

What a great attitude -- although easier said than done.  I did mentally shift gears, noting the beautiful sky, the trees starting to show signs of budding, and my crazy dog, running joyfully through the woods -- not caring what the weather was nor whether she saw birds, squirrels, or deer.  

Combining those two attitudes: Dr. Kilham’s  “the world around us is beautiful ... slow down and notice it” and Penny’s “Hey, we’re out in the woods, let’s have some fun” sounds like a good strategy for walks.  I’ll test it as we struggle through the coming weeks, impatiently waiting for green and warmth and migrating birds.

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For cross-country skiers living in the Northeast or Midwest, December can be a fickle month with temptations of snow cover followed by thaws.  This year has been that way -- a warm wet November gave us good running and roller skiing weather.  A minor snowstorm a few days ago has coated the ground and got our juices flowing, but there's been no freeze and the trails are wet and muddy under the white stuff, and it will melt away.

I should know by now that real XC skiing normally starts in January, and that early outings on rock skis can be very frustrating as ice and mud coats the bottoms.  Yet, out is out and even on a little snow, it's better than running.

 So we wait, impatiently.  Skis are down from storage -- perhaps cleaned up although that usually is a last minute deal -- and folks trek into the high country to find snow.  Or drive to Canada. Or fly to Alaska.

For those of us who "ski local," we know that before long, there will be some wonderful "green wax/ blue skies" days where in our euphoria over the great conditions, soon forget the frustrating days of December.

Bring it on, Snow Gods!  We're ready.

photo by Don_Wright

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As thousands of nervous runners mill around at Fort Wadsworth, Staten Island, for the start of the New York City Marathon this morning, my thoughts go back to the day, twenty-four years ago, when I too awaited the start.  I still recall the day my lottery result came in the mail.   It was the last marathon I ran and perhaps the most memorable.

Up early to catch a bus, wall-to-wall runners at the start, and a walking, start, stop, jostle beginning up on to the Verrazano-Narrows bridge.  It was awesome, wondering if the bridge could take the load (you could feel it shake), the great atmosphere, and of course, some fast runners weaving in and out of the group plodding along.  Back before timing chips, and it took over ten minutes to get to the start line.

Of course, the race traverses the five boroughs and what a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, smells, and people as we ran through Brooklyn.  We were feeling strong after all that training and the first fifteen miles or so were wonderful.  I can still remember feeling draggy as we crossed the Queensboro bridge (mile 15) but the crowds as we came down off the bridge were incredible.

The last ten miles are tough.  The trip up First Avenue to the Bronx seems to last forever and then the leg muscles (for most mortals) start complaining big time.  I was hurting as  came down through Central Park -- every hill was an insult -- but a combination of running, walking, hobbling got me in sight of the famous finish line seen so often on TV.  My time was ok for me, under 4 hours.

Finding Mary afterward in the crowd was a trick (B.C. - before cellphones) but we hooked up as I shivered in the Mylar blanket we all got.

I later trained for several other marathons but always seemed to get injured as I got into the 18-20 mile run segment of training.  I settled back into 10K's and a few ten-milers.  So it’s nice to have this marathon as a fond memory.

Running any marathon is a nice accomplishment and the ambiance and energy of a big on like New York or London is something you don’t forget.  The lottery for 2010 opens tomorrow for New York.  Why not give it a try?

 Verrazano-Narrows bridge photo by Thomas R. Stegelmann  Brooklyn race photo by fergie_lancealot  

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I'm looking out the window at a crisp day with pretty foliage on the hills but our woods trails are pretty muddy.  Yet, snow showers are in the forecast for tomorrow, and the week ahead looks a little raw and damp so it will be a good day to get out and run with the Vizsla.  Another pair of muddy Ascics is no big deal.

But, while procrastinating by the wood fire a bit, I'll lay out some exercise ideas on what works for me - to get me out of bed, or away from the desk.  I'm not a fitness fanatic -- but like most of us, finds that the day goes better for me (and those around me) if I get a little exercise.  It works the same way for my Vizsla -- no workout and someone is going to pay. 

Finding time for fitness starts for me with two major decisions: 1)priority for exercise, and 2) planning workouts.

 

Set Your Exercise Priority High

We need to move exercise way up near the top of our personal priority list.  For me, it’s one of the things I’m always thinking about.  It’s a given that I’ll probably exercise -- that’s just part of my life, but what I do, where I do it, and when in the day can I fit it in, are all decisions to make. And then change it if need be.  Schedule a rest day -- and do it without guilt. Mix things up to keep for overusing muscles and to keep it interesting.

Plan Workouts
I tend to decide about exercise early each day, taking into consideration my preceeding exercise sessions (if I’ve run three times in a row, I’ll cycle or lift), how I feel physically, and when will I have time.  Of course, if I’m looking at a real early workout, I’ll decide that the night before.  If I have travel or other time commitments up ahead, I’ll do some rough planning for a weekend or a week. (”We’ll get there early enough for a quick run, then I can do a weight session next morning in the motel workout room.”)  The trick is to plan so that you have a time set up but then can change routines if you’d rather walk with the family than run solo.

It’s easy to get “preachy” when talking about finding time for fitness but that’s not the point. I just think that by moving exercise way up the priority chain, by thinking ahead on what the game plan for exercise is, and by being flexible (”It’s slushy, screw the run, I’m going to go downstairs and row”), exercise becomes part of your daily routine.  It has mine. Time to find the orange vest (it's bow hunting season) and loosen up.  The dog is ready to go.  Stay fit.

image from dawn pink chick

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The Vizsla needs a run -- she’s been waiting patiently all day and the rain has let up to a fine mist.  I’ll grab my poles and take a hike (nordic walk) up in the woods.

We start out on the loops on our land, which we walk several times a day, and she’s off on her “check the new smells” romp.  I’m caught up in thinking about some publishing issues I’ve just struggled with -- missing fonts in older documents because they were done on older computers.  I’ve been trying to create some ebooks using pdf and it’s a hassle -- I’ve got 900 fonts but not a couple we used five years ago.  So, let it go and enjoy the early fall afternoon.

The leaves are turning but mostly yellow here.  We’ve got soft maples and they seem to get speckled with brown -- although some will get red later on.  Higher up, there’s lots of red showing on the mountains.  The ferns, chest-high in spots, got frosted and are bronze.  The asters and daises, often head high, are untouched but soaking wet.

I’ve got my new LL. Bean slicker on and with the poles and climbing, find it pretty warm.  Robins are flocking up in every clearing -- they’ll likely be heading south on the next cold front winds.

We head up on to abutting forest and Penny flushes a couple of partridge.  She doesn’t point them, just chases them.  No wonder she flunked out of hunting school years ago.

I’m reminded of a time years ago when I was working on one of my mountain bike books and trying to tape record the ride description as I rode along.  I was climbing up this rocky trail, gasping into the mike about it, when a whole covey of young partridges exploded out of the weeds near my front wheel.  I wish I had saved that tape -- it was a breathless  “the trail gets more technical .... S.O.B...” accompanied by the beating of a dozen wings.  It was funny to hear when I was transcribing later on -- and still makes me chuckle as I remember it.

Then my mind veers to the photos I used to try to take on these rides.  You don’t meet riders on most of the rides I was doing and rather than just taking another photo of the bike against a trail sign, I’d try to set up the camera and use the timer.  I’d set up the small tripod I carried, set the self-timer, and then run back, try to hop on the bike and ride toward the camera.  What a joke -- it was either out of focus, or I was half on the bike, whatever.  I don’t know that I ever got a usable shot.

The rain has picked up a bit and I’m glad for the slicker.  It’s loud on the leaves and all I can hear is Penny’s periodic shaking to dry out.  She’s loving it, ranging back and forth, nose to the ground.  There are still some stone walls to check on the way back -- where she remembers critters from former walks.

We’ve been out a little over an hour and it feels great -- the trail is soft due to the rain and the temperature is perfect.  My hiking shoes and jeans are soaked.  We’ll head back and dry out a bit -- and Penny will smell like ferns all evening. 

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