Oct 10·edited Oct 10Liked by Read before You Ultra
I'm not an ultrarunner but I do like the challenge of doing something most old women don't. Even on new trails (to me) I get very nervous about the unknown, animals, elevation, getting lost, getting hurt, etc. Some of which have happened but I lived to tell of it. Today's run however was a different beast. Literally. I had planned two summits of Yonah Mountain which would take about 3 hours. It's a state park and well used. About one third up the first summit, a young lady coming down asked if I was alone. She tells me of a weirdo creepy guy that followed her up and back down and made her very uncomfortable. Her female hiking companion then pipes up and says he probably won't bother me because I'm too old. Now I'm scared AND pissed off. My two summits quickly evaporated to one as I held the mace sprayer with a death grip and imagined seeing him at every big rock outcropping waiting to pounce on me like a cougar. I might be too old to be attractive for a randy behind the rocks but why is society so bent on judging gender and attractiveness? When young and in the business world, I had to compete with men and never complained. I digress.
I did see the stalker dude headed down in a wider area of the trail so I completely avoided him and managed to salvage some peace of mind for the rest of my climb. On the way down, I was met with several large groups and pairs. I wondered, am I doing this all wrong? By myself while everyone else seems to have a companion? If I could find someone else to run with and chase crazy I would. All my friends just call me the crazy runner from the safety of their couch.
I’m sorry this happened to you—both the creep and the ageist comment. I also run and hike alone more often than with people, and my friends also call me crazy. But I can’t help but think the trails are generally less dangerous than the city streets. And I certainly get fewer yucky comments on the trails.
Thank you for reading and for sharing your experience!
I think my biggest or most simple and immediate current fear is solidly in the "based on observation" group — I'm afraid of falling. Partly it's from the memory of pain-upon-impact from a couple recent trip-and-falls on the trail, and partly it's because I know, or at least imagine (fear doesn't know the difference), that eventually there will be a fall that leaves me more than just frustrated and sore. Don't get me wrong — it doesn't happen that often (only 2 memorable falls in the past couple thousand miles), and I don't let it change what I do (at least not much). But it is always there in the back of my mind, and I accept it as cost of doing business.
Thanks for the post — a good exploration of the topic.
Yep, falling is one of the big ones for me as well. But I’ve made great progress thanks to advice from a friend who is a black belt in Judo (those guys fall a lot). I’ll repeat it here, perhaps it will be helpful:
Basically, falling is a skill that can be practiced. Our natural instinct is usually to try to catch ourselves using our hands, which 1) may result in a broken wrist, and 2) if our hands aren’t fast enough, we’d slam our body/head hard on the ground.
To react to a fall properly, you want to develop a reflex to roll instead of “superman” forward. To do that, practice falling at home, beginning with a forward roll on the bed from standing on the ground (you can then progress to a mat on the floor). Try to stay relaxed as you twist your upper body so that it’s not your head that hits the bed/floor but your shoulder. Arms/legs loose but close to the torso.
While this “training” helps with actual falling, to me the biggest benefit has been the confidence boost. I’m just not that timid on technical trails anymore (still suck at them, I’m just not as afraid of them).
That's perfect! You did that ultrarunner problem-solving thing — constructive action that mitigates both your fear and the potential damage from the thing you fear.
It also makes me feel a bit dumb, because I already knew this, but until just now I hadn't made the connection between old skills and current problems...
Decades ago when I trained as a paratrooper, we practiced endless repetitions of the "Parachute Landing Fall" (PLF), twisting our bodies into a rocker shape to absorb the force of impact sequentially across our 5 points of contact (soles, calves, thighs, butt, lats). I guess it's time for me to stop being passive about this (or as we'd say in the army, time to get my head out of my 4th point of contact) and start practicing a Trail Landing Fall.
I just googled the Parachute Landing Fall—that seems like a very useful skill to have, regardless of whether you’re dropping from the sky or not. I bet you still have it in your muscle memory, how cool is that! (And I’m over here explaining to you how to fall, ugh… Sorry about that, I forgot you were in the Army!)
I'm not an ultrarunner but I do like the challenge of doing something most old women don't. Even on new trails (to me) I get very nervous about the unknown, animals, elevation, getting lost, getting hurt, etc. Some of which have happened but I lived to tell of it. Today's run however was a different beast. Literally. I had planned two summits of Yonah Mountain which would take about 3 hours. It's a state park and well used. About one third up the first summit, a young lady coming down asked if I was alone. She tells me of a weirdo creepy guy that followed her up and back down and made her very uncomfortable. Her female hiking companion then pipes up and says he probably won't bother me because I'm too old. Now I'm scared AND pissed off. My two summits quickly evaporated to one as I held the mace sprayer with a death grip and imagined seeing him at every big rock outcropping waiting to pounce on me like a cougar. I might be too old to be attractive for a randy behind the rocks but why is society so bent on judging gender and attractiveness? When young and in the business world, I had to compete with men and never complained. I digress.
I did see the stalker dude headed down in a wider area of the trail so I completely avoided him and managed to salvage some peace of mind for the rest of my climb. On the way down, I was met with several large groups and pairs. I wondered, am I doing this all wrong? By myself while everyone else seems to have a companion? If I could find someone else to run with and chase crazy I would. All my friends just call me the crazy runner from the safety of their couch.
Thanks for your post and for letting me vent!
I’m sorry this happened to you—both the creep and the ageist comment. I also run and hike alone more often than with people, and my friends also call me crazy. But I can’t help but think the trails are generally less dangerous than the city streets. And I certainly get fewer yucky comments on the trails.
Thank you for reading and for sharing your experience!
I think my biggest or most simple and immediate current fear is solidly in the "based on observation" group — I'm afraid of falling. Partly it's from the memory of pain-upon-impact from a couple recent trip-and-falls on the trail, and partly it's because I know, or at least imagine (fear doesn't know the difference), that eventually there will be a fall that leaves me more than just frustrated and sore. Don't get me wrong — it doesn't happen that often (only 2 memorable falls in the past couple thousand miles), and I don't let it change what I do (at least not much). But it is always there in the back of my mind, and I accept it as cost of doing business.
Thanks for the post — a good exploration of the topic.
Thank you!
Yep, falling is one of the big ones for me as well. But I’ve made great progress thanks to advice from a friend who is a black belt in Judo (those guys fall a lot). I’ll repeat it here, perhaps it will be helpful:
Basically, falling is a skill that can be practiced. Our natural instinct is usually to try to catch ourselves using our hands, which 1) may result in a broken wrist, and 2) if our hands aren’t fast enough, we’d slam our body/head hard on the ground.
To react to a fall properly, you want to develop a reflex to roll instead of “superman” forward. To do that, practice falling at home, beginning with a forward roll on the bed from standing on the ground (you can then progress to a mat on the floor). Try to stay relaxed as you twist your upper body so that it’s not your head that hits the bed/floor but your shoulder. Arms/legs loose but close to the torso.
While this “training” helps with actual falling, to me the biggest benefit has been the confidence boost. I’m just not that timid on technical trails anymore (still suck at them, I’m just not as afraid of them).
That's perfect! You did that ultrarunner problem-solving thing — constructive action that mitigates both your fear and the potential damage from the thing you fear.
It also makes me feel a bit dumb, because I already knew this, but until just now I hadn't made the connection between old skills and current problems...
Decades ago when I trained as a paratrooper, we practiced endless repetitions of the "Parachute Landing Fall" (PLF), twisting our bodies into a rocker shape to absorb the force of impact sequentially across our 5 points of contact (soles, calves, thighs, butt, lats). I guess it's time for me to stop being passive about this (or as we'd say in the army, time to get my head out of my 4th point of contact) and start practicing a Trail Landing Fall.
“Get my head out of my 4th point of contact.” 😂
I just googled the Parachute Landing Fall—that seems like a very useful skill to have, regardless of whether you’re dropping from the sky or not. I bet you still have it in your muscle memory, how cool is that! (And I’m over here explaining to you how to fall, ugh… Sorry about that, I forgot you were in the Army!)
No worries — I clearly needed a reminder. The connection seems obvious, but I hadn't made it. Now on to re-learning how to fall with style...