The Best Rubbish You've Ever Read: May 2012

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Adios Caballa Blanco

On Saturday, March 31^st, the body of Michael Randall Hickman (aka Mikah True, aka Caballo Blanco, the great ultra-marathoner) was found near the Little Creek in the Gila Wilderness Area in southwest New Mexico. He had gone out for a 12 mile run, a short jaunt for him, on Tuesday. When he did not return, nearly 200 local officials and volunteers searched over 200,000 acres.

The cause of death was idiopathic cardiomyopathy, a heart ailment. It is not clear if the cardiac event caused Mikah to fall into the creek bed or if he fell, then had the attack. He was 58 years old and had achieved mythic renown. Mikah died while running through a spectacular wilderness area. He was at peace with himself.

Mikah’s story became legend in the 2009 best-seller “Born to Run” by Christopher McDougall. He was a free spirit, a modern day Thoreau; shunning money and possessions. Mikah represented the “what if” fantasies I sometimes have. What if I walked off the professional path? No more buttons to push. No cranks to turn. A simpler way of living. What if I never walked that path to begin with?

At the 1993 Leadville 100 two peasants from Chihuahua, Mexico, wearing huaraches they’d made from tires they found in the city dump finished an hour ahead of the nearest competitor. These were the Tarahumara. Mikah finished 28^th with a time of about 24 hours. What is particularly impressive is that he was recovering from a bike crash from which he was hospitalized.

For years Mikah alternated living six months in Boulder, CO, where he worked as a furniture mover, and Chihuahua, Mexico. It was there that he became obsessed with the Tarahumara. The locals call themselves Rarumuri which loosely translates into the running people. He built a tiny home in the town of Botopila, carrying rocks from the river valley to use as a foundation and erecting walls with cement and adobe.

In 2003 Mikah organized a race to help the Rarumuri preserve their running heritage. Seven runners showed up. The race became an annual event called the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon. In 2006 Scott Jurek and six other Americans made the trek to compete. Jurek finished second to a Rarumuri. The 2012 race, held on March 4^th, attracted over 550 runners, including 350 Rarumuri. Runners received 110 lbs of corn for every 10 miles they ran. All told, Mikah True gave away $40,000 in food; a life saver for the Rarumuri. The Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon will live on as Mikah’s legacy.

I am more like the social butterfly of the High Line than the Lone Wanderer of the High Sierra. I am soft and I like my little luxuries. I am an extrovert, which means I am energized by being around other people. This Saturday I ran 14 miles with Tim and Scott D. It was the first time I had run since the Colfax Marathon and it was challenging to keep pace.

Mikah described himself in this way: “Caballo Blanco is no hero. Not a great anything. Just a Horse of a little different color dancing to the beat of a peaceful drum and wanting to help make a little difference in some lives.”

What can we learn from Caballo Blanco?

Be true to your spirit

Care for others – spread good karma

Exert your body to its limits – they are greater than you think

Leave a legacy – add to the universe

Find bliss in simple tasks done well

Mikah True was but a small piece in the great mosaic of humanity. He was a prophet for a new generation of runner. Fame illuminated him for a moment and he shined. That light inspired many.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Run Smart

Many a thrill can be had on Colfax Avenue in exchange for a few Federal Reserve Notes. Few sane people would find what I, and over 1,100 other people, did on that thoroughfare thrilling. We wonder why people give us strange looks when we tell that we pay someone so we can torture ourselves. That entry fee is really a sick tax on masochists.

The week before the Colfax Marathon I was filled with apprehension and self-doubt. Had I trained appropriately? Had I gone long enough on my long runs? Had my intensity been high enough? Had I tapered adequately? Was I rested?

For two weeks I had been sitting in a room. Looking out of the window I could see hundreds of trees and shrubs, all but one was full of big green leaves. That one was budding when I arrived and I watched as the leaves filled in so that by the time I left, it was indistinguishable from its neighbor. That bush reminded me of myself; a little late to the race, but ready to run.

While in Rochester I did everything I could to prepare myself for the race. I ran 25 miles two weeks ago and 19 miles last week. I stayed well hydrated with water and Powerade. I ate a banana, an apple and a baked potato every day. I did indulge in a dozen Buffalo wings at the Original Anchor Bar, though.

I also spent time contemplating race strategy. The Colfax Marathon starts with about 6.5 miles of downhill running. While the next 8.5 miles are up hill, the three mile section around Sloan’s Lake is almost flat. Miles 15 through 21 are downhill. The last 5 miles are an uphill slog back to City Park. I decided I would use the Sloan’s Lake section as a time to gain some time. Those last five miles were brutal. After 20 miles of running we are tired mentally as well as physically. Our fragile minds have trouble doing simple math.

The altitude definitely affected my performance; how much is difficult to quantify. I was taxed from the start. In relative effort terms this was a much harder race than the 2:57 I ran last fall. I am very pleased with the effort, if not the time, it took to run the course. And on that note… I know of three runners, including the first female finisher, who ran this year’s event around ten minutes slower that last year. That’s almost a mile and a half. Something is afoot here.

Here are the highlights that I can remember from today’s race:

Creigh Kelley at the firehouse through which we ran

Running through Mile High Stadium twice

The crowds at the relay exchanges

Running around the Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design campus

The tour through “The Glens” at the high point of the course

The people who called my name either because they knew me or they read it on my bib

Doug and Bonnie at mile 20

Scott D. at Confluence Park

Mike Q. welcoming me at the finish

For the record:
3:02:39
23rd overall
6th in the 40-49 age group (3rd place age group award winner)

Sunday, May 13, 2012

In Rochester

I am the product of artists. Growing up, many weekends were spent driving to some rural location so my parents could paint. Thinking back, it occurred to me; my parents didn’t practice drawing or painting. There were no drills. They just painted. Their practice was their art. There were no mistakes, just bad choices. That approach is so different from what I have experienced.

There is a song we sang during family road trips when I was a child. It went:

I've got a mule, her name is Sal,
15 miles on the Erie Canal
She's a good old worker and a good old pal,
15 miles on the Erie Canal

We've hauled some barges in our day
filled with lumber, coal and hay
And we know every inch of the way from
Albany to Buffalo.

I have been in Rochester, NY this week and will be for one more, returning to Denver on the 18^th; about 36 hours before the start of the Colfax Marathon. About 2.5 miles from my hotel is an access point for the Eire Canal. There is a nice path that runs adjacent to the canal and I ran ten miles along it. I passed a running club of about 50 athletes. It reminded me of running on the Highline Canal, except that this canal is about 80 feet across and at least 20 feet deep. The lilacs are in bloom. What a beautiful sight.

When I registered for the Colfax Marathon in January I committed to it with the intent of making it the focus of my spring training, not knowing what the future held. I could be injured. I could be out of town. Those were the risks. So, here I am at low altitude for two weeks. When I found out I was going to be here, I was a little upset. I thought about the adverse affects staying at low altitude for two weeks would have on my performance. Then I realized it really didn’t matter. All I can do is show up and run to the best of my abilities. Regardless of how I perform, the experience will help me grow as an athlete.

I am aware of the limitations of age. There is nothing more important to an athlete than the preservation of fitness. My strength and aerobic conditioning are in decline so I must work with what I have to make sure I maximize my training. Every run I start, I am a beginner. Each time I run, I challenge myself to be better.

We are amateurs. If you are in it for the races alone; if you are in it for the medals, you are in it for the wrong reasons. If you presume to love something, you must love the process of it much more than the end result. My life as an athlete has been about the drills, the practice, the sweet drudgery of putting one foot in front of the other.