The Joy of Going the Distance

My first year in graduate school at the University of Minnesota, I took an introductory course about people with disabilities. Dr. Weiss was a brilliant instructor who, despite her passing way too young, continues to inspire me today. One of the assignments she gave was to write a paper called “On Being Different.” It could be about anything related to diversity. In 1977, female marathon runners were “different” as they hardly existed. The first female to run the Boston Marathon was in 1967. I researched the idea and interviewed two local Minneapolis female marathoners to learn of their stories. In the end, I got an A on the paper and became intrigued with the idea of running a marathon.

In 1978 I ran my first marathon in the Twin Cities. It was a horrible experience as my running buddy and I had NOT trained enough. The racecourse was almost dismantled by the time we crossed the finish line. I could hardly move for a couple of days. I swore I would never run again, let alone run a marathon. I started to think about what had gone wrong and I knew from my encounters with others that running these long distances could be fun. In 1980 we ran our second marathon in Wisconsin. It was fun. We were well trained and ran the 26.2 mile course over an hour faster than that first attempt.

Since those early days, I have run a dozen marathons and mostly enjoyed them with proper training: Marine Corps, Raleigh Marathon, Big Sur, Drake Relays, Honolulu Marathon, Estes Park Marathon, Grandma’s (Duluth), to mention only a few. I loved running through Washington DC with all the iconic memorials. Big Sur had astounding beauty, and I did it with my cousin, Mary. (see photo)

Fifteen years ago, I did my last marathon and opted for doing 2-3 half marathons each year. I wanted to preserve my body for hiking and other physical activities. Proper training takes energy. I gave up running and opted for fast walking and longer distance hiking three years ago. I miss training for marathons and challenging myself to prepare adequately. I like the discipline of the training schedule and the joy of going back to running just for fun after the marathon is over. I miss the excitement of marathon day and the aftermath of reveling in accomplishing the goal.

Nevertheless, I know my limitations today and am grateful for all those years of going the distance and the joys of movement. Today I move in slower ways!

Subpar Parks and Superb Icons

“Super Unimpressed” These words were used to describe Rocky Mountain National Park by a visitor. Although hundreds of thousands of people would describe it differently, everyone has the right to their perceptions and opinions. Some people might not be enthralled by hundreds of miles of trails, beautiful wildflowers, incredible mountain vistas, and myriads of wildlife species. Nevertheless, acknowledging not so obvious summaries is interesting to me.

Amber Share published a book called Subpar Parks in 2021. She explained her surprise in recognizing that reviews of natural wonders in National Parks might not be shared by everyone. For those of us who love nature in many ways, noting a lack of inspiration from the outdoors is puzzling. Thus, Share set out to illustrate some reviews and refute the claims by showing the basic facts of specific parks. She offered ways to enjoy the park aside from those negative or unremarkable comments.

Longs Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park as seen from Bear Lake

I have visited numerous national parks. I recognize the irony in expressed reviews. Nevertheless, the observations are entertaining, and I answered with my perceptions about the parks I have enjoyed:

Denali: Barren land of tundra (An amazing humongous mountain)

Death Valley: Ugliest place I’ve ever seen (Things grow here)

Joshua Tree: The only thing to do here is to walk around the desert (The trees are in magical shapes)

Mount Ranier: I’ve seen bigger mountains (Surrounded by diverse ecosystems)

Olympic: No wow factor (Trees, mountains, and the ocean come together)

Arches: Looks nothing like the license plate (Rocks fashioned in geometric designs)

Big Bend: It rained on me in the friggin’ desert (A connection between the desert and mountains)

Capitol Reef: Somewhat bland (Fruit pies from the orchard are yummy)

Devils Tower: Just a big rock (A spiritual significance omnipresent)

Grand Canyon: A hole. A very, very large hole (Layers of geological history)

Grand Teton: All I saw was a lake, mountains, and some trees (The lake reflects the mountains)

Mesa Verde: Not much to look at (Cultural significance is clearly interpreted)

Saguaro: OK if you like cactus (Each cactus is unique)

Yellowstone: Save yourself some money, boil some water at home (Thrilling anticipation of eruptions)

Isle Royale: No cell service and terrible wifi (Hoping to hear the wails of wolves)

Voyageurs: There was no one except us (Solitude as seldom found in today’s world)

New River Gorge: Mist obscured the views (Lucious vegetation abounds)

Cape Hatteras: Nothing special (Sand and the seas unite)

To each his or her opinion, I guess!

An Ounce (or more) of Prevention: PSAR

“How many lives did we save today?” My colleagues and I joke about this as we volunteer positions at Rocky Mountain National Park. In my mind I am not inquiring about just human life but animal life as I think about the activities park service staff and volunteers do to make the touristic experiences of people and the everyday lives of animals in the park enjoyable and safe!

Every year, dozens of visitors are rescued from Rocky Mountain National Park. Some people experience injuries while others get lost. People often underestimate the perils of a mountainous area. Professionals respond to calls to rescue visitors in unsafe conditions. These Search and Rescue (SAR) missions can be dangerous for the visitor and the SAR response team. Preventive Search and Rescue (PSAR) aims to reduce SAR missions through preparation, education, and information.

I consider myself part of the PSAR team in Rocky. The information we provide makes our wondrous park the safest it can be. The efforts vary greatly. It may be discussions at a trailhead where we warn visitors of trail hazards or impending weather conditions. It also may be through educational programs provided such as campfire programs or through the Junior Ranger program. I hope the advice we give when people call the Information Office may be useful in them making smart decisions about how they will navigate the park.

This information, however, becomes incumbent upon the visitor to consider the suggestions. Preparation for a visit to the park or any other outdoor area is essential. Knowing one’s limitations and the challenges of the park are essential. Hiking requires having ten essentials: navigation such as a compass or GPS device, headlamp, sun protection, first aid kit, knife, fire matches, light emergency shelter, extra food, extra water, and extra clothing.

The quandary with any type of prevention work is that one never knows what difference it makes. Prevention is hard to measure. It is far easier to measure treatment or response rather than prevention. We can count the number of rescues done in the park. However, we cannot count the number of rescues prevented because of the actions taken by park rangers and volunteers to prevent incidences. Accidents are going to happen, but preparation is still key.

I advocated for parks and recreation throughout my career because these opportunities are central for the prevention of accidents, poor health, loneliness, and the list goes on. I like to focus on prevention in all its forms. I am proud to participate in these efforts. I have faith that our PSAR work makes a difference.