Date: June 30, 2018
Distance 4 miles
Purpose: to see if I could run in an oven!
Granted this run was far less than the 10 mile threshold to
justify blog space, but how often do you run in gorgeous desert country?
After Mom’s funeral, I was really motivated to get out and
have some fun with the family. We needed a collective sigh of relief and some
collective laughs to help us process this event, and ultimately move through
it, or allow it to fully move through us more correctly. Mike Nelson, a family friend from the ward,
must have been inspired. He invited our family to join his for a week down at
Lake Powell on their houseboat and ski boat and jet skis the week after the
funeral was over. His timing couldn’t have been better.
On the way back out to Bullfrog Bay, I felt a sudden desire
to run hard. Even though it was 105 deg F outside, I wanted to really run. All
the laying around on the houseboat had given me the crampiness and shiftiness
that can only be cured by cardiovascular activity. At least for me anyways…
Becky dropped me off at the bustling metropolis of Ticaboo
Resort, a one-horse, one gas-station rest stop outside of the marina. Then I
ran up the Henry’s on the shoulder of the road for 4 miles, with Becky giving
water support every mile from the car. I love the Henry Mountains, which is the
last named and explored mountain range in the Lower 48 (or so I had heard
once). It was such desolate landscape, other than the thin ribbon of 2-lane
highway with SUV’s towing boats at way too fast of speeds streaming past,
blowing hot exhaust in my hot face. In
fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so hot in my life.
I was baking like a Papa John’s pizza at 425 deg F.
Passers-by in air-conditioned cars thought I was a lunatic most certainly.
My face was so hot it was purple.
And I loved every bit of it. I actually wish I could have
kept going but, as is so often the case with running, time was short.
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