With my precious summer winding down, I’ve been seeking refuge on Cape Cod for the past few days. My grandparents have a peaceful waterfront property on the Childs River, which feeds out into the Vineyard Sound. Sitting around this morning, I felt the need for an adventure. I grabbed my Yellow Lab pup, Brando, and struck out in a rowboat for the unknown.
Down the river there is a huge chunk of land known as Washburn Island, which is uninhabited except for campers and picnickers who make the trip in boats. I rowed about three football fields downstream, pulled the boat in, and set off into the woods. Brando surged ahead, as if directly challenging me to a race. Barefoot and shirtless I thought, What the hell, I’ll go for a jog.
We ran the winding path a few miles to the end of the island. There are few simple pleasures in life as satisfying as a romp through the woods. Stopping, I looked around at the scenery and took in the salty sea breeze. This is the life.
Long distance runners often change up their training to get away from the monotony of laps on the track. A run in the woods is an ideal way to get some mileage and have fun at the same time. Runners even have a word for this, fartlek (seriously), which is stolen from the Swedish word meaning “speed play.” This method usually consists of a casual run through the countryside. It has become a training philosophy used by Olympians and casual joggers alike.
With my four-legged friend setting the pace, I turned my course about, continuing on my fartlek. Suddenly I took a wrong turn and lost my bearings. I decided to bushwhack it, as newspaper headlines started zooming through my head. Search Continues for Missing Wrestler. We pressed on, my bare feet bruised and shins cut up from tangles of thorns that infest the island. I let Brando lead the way, thinking he’d use his animalistic instincts to get us back to the boat. We zigzagged through the woods, wishing I’d left a trail of breadcrumbs. After miles upon miles of wasted effort, we reached a beach. A couple picnicking there gave me directions and sent me down the shore.
The rocky beach and broken clam shells cut into my feet, so I took to the knee-deep water. This was a perfect resistance workout. I sprinted ahead, overtaking Brando in the deep water with my longer legs. This was the longest I’d run in years and it started to get to me. Completely exhausted, my stride started to shorten and my pace slowed. With the boat in sight, we sprinted the last 100 meters and both panted to the finish.
I rowed home and collapsed, completely spent. Going against the current gave me plenty of time to reflect on my trip. It was exhilarating; the combination of adrenaline and summer bliss formed a powerful stimulant. Though I had just tired myself to the core, I felt like I could do it all again a few more times.
Who says workouts can’t be fun too?
3 Comments
rollie, great stuff my two boys and myself read your posts we really enjoyed them. keep them coming , with all the wrestling wisdom you have it will help all of us . by the way iwatched you at the ncaa’s last year it was a pleasure , im going again next year to see you there.
your fan tony libby&family
haha, the news paper headlines part made me think of our adventure in the woods in Milford..
My girlfriend is an xc runner and has since corrected me on one point: a fartlek does not necessarily mean a fun run through the woods, but rather it refers to an interval workout (fast, slow, fast, slow). The book I read it in used it in a different context, and it does in fact mean “speed play”. It was this “speed play” concept I was going for.