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I came across I column I wrote the other day. It was from years ago, and it was about literature and how I can think about certain books and suddenly be back wherever I was the first time I read them. I think of “The Outsiders” by S.E. Hinton and picture myself sitting on a folding stepstool outside of the apartments my family lived in in Elyria, Ohio. I was in third grade. Sometimes in that same memory, I’m selling lemonade to union guys coming to a United Auto Workers meeting my dad was holding at the event hall at the apartment complex. Maybe I read while I waited for customers. Maybe it was two separate events. Maybe the stepstool is the only constant. It was black and yellow and the kind that has two steps, with rubber pads on each one. I used to turn it around and sit on the lower step and use the upper one as a desk. It’s the kind of stepstool I wish I had about once a week, especially when a smoke alarm battery starts chirping. I don’t know what’s true. It’s all variations on a theme, just like everything. But it made me think of words. And poetry. And music. Blog sponsored by: Every time I hear the phrase “variations on a theme,” I think of the poem by Ken Koch, and who knows where I first read it. It’s variations on the poem “This is just to say,” by William Carlos Williams: I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold In Koch’s version, something goes awry, every time. Here’s my favorite: We laughed at the hollyhocks together and then I sprayed them with lye. Forgive me. I simply do not know what I am doing. I don’t know why I like it. For the same reason, I love all the Edward Gorey books, literary and twisted, just how I like it. Kind of funny and horrifying. Like all the best things, right? I dig a little darkness in my art. But mostly what I love is watching someone interpret someone else’s work. We all come at things from a different perspective, with all the ways we’ve been wronged or all the things we’ve hoped or all the ways we’ve loved and unloved, done and undone. It happens in everything. I see it all the time – someone online will ask, “What’s your favorite race,” and 10 people post as many different replies. That’s OK. They all come at it in different ways. I love the Twin Cities Marathon because I was successful at qualifying for Boston there. I hate the Vermont City Marathon because I wasn’t. Same with Phoenix. It isn’t the fault of the race or the organizer, but sometimes you need something besides yourself to blame. The variation can be in your training, in your perspective, in your reasoning for going at all. It doesn’t matter – it’s whatever you say it is. A few weeks ago, I started teaching cycling classes at the gym again. I haven’t done it in about a year and I was a little anxious about starting up – how does their stereo system work, will I have any issues at 5 a.m., and will I be able to solve them. We went over the day before so I could try everything out, make sure I could make the microphone work, the music play. And in a moment of panic, I worried that my ancient iPod wouldn’t work. I may be the only person left who hasn’t been streaming music on their phone. Instead, it’s just whatever songs are on my iPod, with whatever I’ve bought in the last year, having lost all of my iTunes music in the process of life. So I signed up for Spotify, paid for the version without ads, and downloaded a playlist of some of my favorite spin class songs I’ve used in the past and a variety of other stuff. Maybe I can make this work without a bunch of bad pop (nothing against bad pop, I love it, too). This was all glorious to Viv, 7, who realized she could now use my old iPod to play music. That’s meant she’d discovered a lot of songs that have what she calls – rightly so – inappropriate lyrics. It also means she’s blasting Jason Isbell or The Lumineers from the front yard, which makes me as proud as when I find her holed up with a book somewhere. The soundtrack of my life is some of what I love, some of what the people I love adore and some of what I just grew up listening to on the radio. Just like those books can put me there, so can the songs, pulling off the road more often than I admit, to cry in my car for reasons I can’t explain. You just have to sit there and sing it and feel it. The class went fine. An Avett Brothers song I’m obsessed with, “January Wedding,” came up during a spin and it was a poor choice, but I let it play out because it makes me happy. Nobody seemed to mind. A friend of mine was telling me about a night she drove across northern Minnesota listening to the Avett Brothers the whole time, and another friend remembers nursing her newborn to a live recording of them. For each of these women, this is the background to those events, to that dark, dark drive, to that time in the middle of the night with a mewling baby and a sense of wonder mixed with terror. These are their variations on this Avett Brothers theme. For me, I don’t know. I think about a run at Good Earth State Park last year, just me and Neil Young. I recently pulled up “Athens County” by Jonathon Edwards, a terrible song, as I plan a trip home to Ohio later this summer to see my dad, whose mind is crumbling around him, who played Paul Simon’s “Graceland” for me nonstop for years, who made me listen to Marty Robbins as we drove through the night to Rhode Island. Who loves Jimmy Buffett and took me to see him at outdoor venues throughout Ohio. Is it the best music I’ve ever heard? No, not even close. But I was some of the best times of my life. My cheeseburger in paradise was wine coolers at Blossom Music Center in Ohio. The runs I’ve done in these cities lay alongside these soundtracks, layered on the books I read and the NPR shows I listened to, the local food I ate and the people I knew. It’s all variations on a theme, the theme of just living. The theme of not knowing what you’ve done, of knowing all along, of knowing it was wrong or right, of knowing there’s only one way, and that’s through. This past weekend, I was riding my bike to Luverne, Minn., and there was some gravel, and I’m still a little sketchy on it, still worried about falling, still sometimes taking medicine to make my wrist stop hurting. And as I rolled through the countryside, I sang to myself over and over, “The hardest part is through,” a line from a Lumineers song, a sentiment echoed in everything from embroidery to 12-step programs. And yet it’s true. I started this post thinking I would talk about some of my favorite cover songs, and about why I love them – to hear how someone else imagines something – stemmed partly from the Spotify stations that play acoustic covers and partly from thinking again about this drive in Ohio and Woody Guthrie songs interpreted by Billy Bragg and Wilco. I will always be in my car between Columbus and Cleveland, listening to “California Stars,” laying on the gravel road at The Ridges, the bike path that runs along the Hocking River. Always. I’ll be there with Lucinda Williams. I’ll be in Athens with Van Morrison and NPR. I’ll be in Good Earth with Neil Young. In the Phoenix marathon with Quintron and Miss Pussycat or Dennis Ferrer, step by metronome step toward just missing qualifying for Boston. Right now, I’m reading “Less” by Andrew Sean Greer, and it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read. I mark nearly every page with words I want to live in. I’m about three-fourths through the book, and some of it I can’t stop thinking about. Think about this: A line where the narrator describes someone as the kind of person who doesn’t need to be reminded to put his oxygen mask on first. That tells you everything you need to know about that person. But then there’s this, talking about grief, the “salt in the pudding,” as he writes. “Didn't Roman generals hire slaves to march beside them in a triumphant parade and remind them that they too would die? Even your narrator, one morning after what should have been a happy occasion, was found shivering at the end of the bed (spouse: "I really wish you weren't crying right now"). Don't little children, awakened one morning and told, "Now you're five!" - don't they wail at the universe's descent into chaos? The sun slowly dying, the spiral arm spreading, the molecules drifting apart second by second toward our inevitable heat death - shouldn't we all wail to the stars?” So when the Avett Brothers say, “are you aware the shape I’m in, my hands they shake, my head it spins.” We know. We’ll take you in. Like a pair of stolen, polished dimes. Ask to dance. It’s fine. Wail to the stars. Steal the plums from the icebox. Fins to the left. Walk the tightrope in the snow, walk it again between the towers.  Jacqueline Palfy is a longtime runner, reader and writer, marathoner, mom and board member of the nonprofit Sioux Falls Area Running Club. Her contributions to the 605 Running Co. blog will appear every other Tuesday. You can follow her on Twitter @runnerJPK or reach her at jpalfyklemond@gmail.com. Story ideas are encouraged.
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 Do you remember what you were doing four years ago? Our store will be celebrating its fourth birthday this month! Four years ago I was working full time for my parents at The Cookie Jar Eatery. My life was full of new things. I had recently graduated from college, gotten married and bought a house. You’d have a much better chance of finding me on a golf course in those days than out training for marathons. In fact I was barely a runner four years ago. My resume consisted of one half marathon and two 5k’s. So how did I end up as a part owner of the 605 Running Company? Three brothers, two cities and the love of running. The Watley Brothers have a long history in both Sioux Falls and Lincoln, Nebraska. Four years ago Grant and Paul were both at the University of Sioux Falls while Logan had become a very active member with the Lincoln Running Company in Nebraska. With their combined experiences the brothers hatched a plan to create a running community center in Sioux Falls. A speciality outfitter helping runners of all abilities find success through the sport they had loved throughout their lives. Back then things looked a little different in Downtown Sioux Falls too. We had a number vacancies up and down Phillips Avenue. I remember being very vocal in membership meetings for DTSF about the need for us to actively recruit more business to the block. Out of those meetings came the Downtown Incubator Program. The 605 Running Company was the first business to utilize this program. I applied to work at the store part time on the nights and weekends. When I interviewed, Paul and the General Manager Wayne had a conversation about how they had already hired enough employees and that the plan was to meet me, but not hire me. After we walked through the unfinished store, chatted about the downtown business community and shared war stories about USF I was hired. Part time, nights and weekends. My personal goal was to save the money I made at the store for a new truck that I’d had my sights on (fun fact, I still don’t own that truck). After a month in business Paul was presented with a job opportunity in is actual profession in Texas that he couldn’t pass up. With his departure came a job opening. Leaving the family business was a very difficult decision for me. I had worked in that bakery since high school and my parents had supported every turn my career had taken through college and as a budding young professional. Helping to build a new business from the ground up was the equivalent of graduate school for me. The Watley’s gave me unprecedented decision making abilities and tasked me with growing the business with a community first approach. A lot of the things we’ve done are very non-traditional, but our business is people and our profits are measured by our communities success and growth through running. In four years as our business has grown and we’ve added more employees we’ve also been able to add private coaching services. Our store has sponsored and managed local races including our spring half marathon that was a major success. We have also worked with local running clubs Sioux Falls Women Run (which didn’t exist when we opened), Sioux Falls Area Running Club and the Prairie Striders Running Club to grow the sport. Finally, we’ve become better at what we do at the shop. Our hands on experience has made us better shoe fitters, our running resumes continue to grow which helps us add products that runners actually need and use. We are truly your local running specialty outfitters. My hope is that you view our shop as a place to go to be prepared to run, not just a place to go buy a thing. Four years have gone by very fast. Like a graduating senior from high school our best days are certainly in front of us and not behind us. Believe me when I tell you we are just getting started and we have a ton of fun and exciting things planned for the future of 605 Running Company. I’m so humbled to be a part of this running community and cannot thank you all enough for your support of our business over the years. Blog sponsored by:  Greg Koch is the General Manager/Co-Owner of the 605 Running Company. When he is not at the store he volunteers on the Sioux Falls Marathon Board and Co-Coaches his church softball co-ed team. Greg is an avid runner and enjoys being outdoors whenever possible. Follow Greg on Instagram @gregrun605
Earlier this year, the Sioux Falls Area Running Club elected a new board. If you’re not familiar with the club, it’s the longest nonprofit running club in Sioux Falls and puts on the kids cross-country series in the fall and the trail series that runs through Big Sioux, Good Earth and Newton Hills state parks. It’s a great group that supports all the other groups in town – from local businesses catering to runners and cyclists to other running clubs and training groups. Why? Because we just like to run. In full disclosure: I’ve been a member for at least 15 years and a board member for about a decade. It’s ebbed and flowed over the years, mirroring life. But this year the club has a new energy, a new focus and a new commitment to better understanding how to serve the Sioux Falls running community and help support everyone else out there trying to do the same thing. I asked our board members to share a bit about themselves so you could see who they are and what they’re trying to do. Below are our bios. Reach out. Tell us what you want, what you need, if you can volunteer. What struck me as I read all of this is that we all have the same reasons for running: To clear our heads. To socialize. To be grateful we can run or race or recover. That we all do it because we need to be outside, or because we love nature or because this is what our friends do, and we’ve fallen in with a bad crowd. This is who we are. Join us. Thanks to our blog sponsor!
Name: Nathan Schwab
Age: 36 Family: Wife, Rachael, and kids Brady, 6, and Lily, 3 Occupation: Personal banker and financial advisor at First Bank & Trust Board position: President and Director of the Trail Series What are you reading or binge-watching: “Red Rising” trilogy and the World Cup What are you training for: Nothing right now, but this fall the Glacier Hills 20K or 30K When and why did you start running: In 2005, I graduated from college and figured I should do something to stay in shape. I love running for a lot of reasons – personal time to clear my head, listen to music or just get away from everything. I’m a pretty competitive runner, and I love the strategy of racing and pushing myself to my limits. I’m primarily a trail runner. Nothing beats the dirt, prairie, trees and animals to truly escape the daily grind. I especially love the varied terrain and hills. It’s so much less about pace and more about the pure experience of the run. Name: Sharleen Stevens Family: Husband and forever-crew person, Jeff Occupation: Inspector at Showplace Board position: Membership co-chair What are you reading or binge-watching: I’m in the middle of three books and trying to keep up with reality shows “The Bachelorette” and “Big Brother.” What are you training for: Superior 100 in September When and why did you start running: I’ve been a runner since junior high, but I’ve kept it up as I’ve gotten older and become better in different ways. It’s so intrinsically rewarding – it’s my therapy, and I love to see where and how far my body can take me. Name: Laurie Ayala Age: 48 Family: Husband and four kids, ranging in age from 12 to 24 Occupation: Health and wellness programming Board position: Membership co-chair What are you reading or binge-watching: “Being Mortal” by Atul Gawande What are you training for: I’m injured! When and why did you start running: I love running because no matter how fast, slow I am, how much like a gazelle or lumbering elephant, there is a place for me and others like me in this sport. Name: Phil Breed Age: 55 Family: Two best friends – my wife, Donna and my dog, Ned Occupation: School counselor at Dakota Valley Middle School and assistant cross-country coach, DV PROWL wellness coordinator Board position: Administrative assistant and secretary What are you reading: "Complete Guide to Foam Rolling" by Kyle Stul and "Queen of the Night" J. A. Jance What are you training for: No training this summer -- all recreational running. When and why did you start running: In seventh grade track, I wanted to be a hurdler and my coach said I was a distance runner, and he was right. Now, I run mostly trails, which keeps me in the here and now of footfall as well as the beauty of what’s around me and a clear mind. Name: Jacqueline Palfy Age: 43 Family: Boyfriend, Patrick and two kids, Jack, 9 and Viv, 7 Occupation: Media relations for Sanford Health, blogger, occasional spin class instructor, book club founder Board position: Marketing co-chair What are you reading or binge-watching: “Less” by Andrew Sean Greer What are you training for: Just trying to build back up after a few spring injuries, and hoping for a longer trail run in the fall When and why did you start running: I ran track and cross-country (poorly) in high school, then took a hiatus to mountain bike and make generally bad choices. In 2001, I looked around at my life and realized I needed to make a change, so I started running again. I haven’t looked back. It helps me ease anxiety and depression, it helps me make new friends, it keeps me in shape and centers me – over and over, every time. Name: Scott Kennedy Age: 44 Family: Son, Brian, 20; fiancée Becky and her two kids, Wyatt, 22 and Josie, 11. Occupation: Vice-president of business development for Veracity, an inspection company. I work remotely. Board position: Marketing co-chair What are you reading or binge-watching: I enjoy watching true crime shows: Dateline, etc. What are you training for: Ironman 70.3 in Indian Wells/ La Quinta in December. When and why did you start running: I started running on and off in 2010. In February 2015, I was unhappy with how I felt and decided to make a change. From that point on, I ran 4-5 days a week and started to lose weight, and I also found it helped relieve stress. 5Ks turned into 10Ks and finally a marathon in October 2015. Running requires little equipment or training to start. I travel for work a lot – but I can run anywhere and often meet new people wherever I am. I also love how the Sioux Falls running community bands together in the winter to keep each other motivated with group runs.  I was in need of a more proficient way to carry hydration for an upcoming trail race, Superior Spring 25k, after learning my lesson running Zumbro in 2017. For Zumbro, a challenging 17-mile trail race, I had an 8oz handheld flask. While it was great to have hydration on me while going through the race, there were plenty of aid stations along the way and it made it difficult to take in nutrition with only 1 hand. I was able to skip a couple aid stations because I had water, but then I had to stop and fill my flask for a couple of the other ones, which ended up costing me time in the end. I read an interview from one of the winners and his mention of carrying water really resonated with me. Even the person I ran with for most of the race had a Camelbak and she would get pretty far ahead at each aid station and I’d have to hustle quite a bit to catch back up. I knew if I was going to run Zumbro again, or another similar race, that I’d need to get a hydration vest or belt of some kind to maximize my performance and time.
 It didn’t take long for me to find that next race, as I was one of the lucky ones who were chosen in the lottery for the Superior Spring Trail Races in Lutsen, MN on May 19th. The 25k (15.5 miles) is on the rugged Superior Hiking Trail and the course is an out-and-back with only one aid station at the turn around. There was no way I could get through this one without something better than my little flask, so I started my search. I talked to other runners, one of the benefits of group runs, and tried to get as many personal experiences, opinions, etc. on how they felt about the various options. I also read some reviews online and hit up the local experts at 605 Running Company. I ended up leaning back on my go-to brand for running hydration, Nathan®. Not only do they make great water bottles, running hydration, and other running accessories, having my name on the product makes everything personalized! I was leaning between a couple different options, (cheap vs. expensive) and emailed Greg about my choices to get his opinion. He said he was getting in the VaporKrar 4L, and so I figured I’d go all out with my choice and get it. I typically don’t run with water when training unless I’m brining my GoPro, which I carry in my little handheld 8oz flask pocket. I just don’t put in that may long runs where I need it these days. But, with 15.5 miles and 2300+ feet of elevation change, I knew I was going to need to put in some long runs and try and prepare the best I could for the race. When I first put it on without any water in it, I could barely tell I was wearing anything. I played around with the configuration of straps (two front buckle and two side sliding) until I got a good feel for it. It comes with two 12oz flasks which would be enough for me, as I don’t typically run longer than 15 miles. I do tend to drink a lot when available so I figured this would work out perfect. There are also a couple pockets on the outsides of the flasks, and two zipper pockets further up on the upper chest. There are a couple pockets on the sides, but I found those hard to use with the adjustment straps going over them. In the back, there is no bladder, but one can be purchased and the magnet attachment for the nozzle comes with it already. The large stash area in the rear is a great place to put a light rain/wind layer and there are is a lower stash pocket too, so you can spread out the weight a bit of anything else you may carry like gloves or a hat. I hit up my favorite trails in Sioux Falls out at Great Bear when running with the vest for the first time. It was a warm day so I filled up both flasks full and headed out on the trails. It took me a little while to get used to the vest as it was very different than running without anything, which is what I was used to. I had to adjust the straps a bit and quickly found that I couldn’t get the vest as tight as I wanted, because then I couldn’t breathe. My lower chest expands quite a bit as I inhale and so I adjusted everything so I could fulling inhale. This did create some bounce but nothing that was too bad. I found that the top buckle strap needed to be tightened further than it was able, for the vest to be tight on my chest, but allow myself to get a full inhale while not bouncing. I bought a medium and in hindsight, should have probably picked up a small (or at least tried one on). I actually remember reading someone stating the same issue in a review I read, so it seems I’m not the only one that would like the top strap to be able to get tighter. I’d recommend trying on the vest, with filled flasks, to make sure you can run comfortably with the vest with minimal bounce (also a suggestion I read online about hydration vests in general & something the good folks at 605 Running Company would allow you to do.) Through the Great Bear training run, a couple others, and the 25k race, the vest held up great and the two flasks are easy to drink from. I even carried my GoPro during the race in one of the pockets along with 2 gel packets and 2 Hot Shot bottles. I ended up drinking all my Skratch in both flasks, both gels, and one of my Hot Shots. I didn’t have to stop once to drink or grab anything and didn’t have any chafing. As the flasks get drank, I found that adjusting the side straps helped to keep the vest at an optimal fit. I probably won’t use the vest much for reasons stated earlier, but I know I have a go to hydration vest that will work great for any extended running, hiking, or biking that I’ll be doing.  Nathan Schwab is the President of the Sioux Falls Area Running Club and Race Director for the Trail Race Series. He also is a full time Personal Banker & Financial Representative at First Bank & Trust in Sioux Falls. When Nathan isn’t running or working he enjoys spending quality time with family.
 Fair warning: This post is going to be about love. And community. And trail running, bike riding and family picnics. And about looking around and being overwhelmed by everything this city and its people and businesses have to offer. About two weeks ago, I got the cast off my right arm. I’ve written about how I broke my wrist and how, combined with a calf injury, I felt far away from all the things and people and events that I love. I missed running and biking and yoga – a lot.
So when I went back to the doctor, I held my breath. “She has to say I can take this off,” I told the nurse. “Well, we’ll see what she says. Sometimes you need to keep it on for another week or two.” That can’t happen, I thought as she walked me back to get yet another set of X-rays to make sure the bones hadn’t moved into places they didn’t belong. They hadn’t, and the doctor assured me it was fine to start using my arm again. “Are you sure it won’t break? It’s pretty sore,” I said. “Not unless you fall off your bike again,” she said, then proceeded to tell me a story about biking with her son, who lured her onto the many single-track paths along the bike path. “I kept thinking of you,” she laughed. She made it through unscathed, and she and her son discovered something new together they like to do – all thanks to FAST, the cycling group building single-track trails around the city like Leaders Park and a new plan for Tuthill Park. “OK,” I said, “but it hurts … like what if I lean on it, will that break it?” She reassured me, and I slowly started to realize it really had healed. A physical therapist next showed me some range of motion exercises to do every day and said the biggest thing to do is just use it – cut up fruit and squeeze the shampoo bottle and grate cheese. Whatever it is in normal daily activity, just do it. It was scary. All the soreness the past week I had been attributing to the bone, when it was really just tight muscles and tendons and general lack of use. So I began to do the things – Patrick and I went for a short bike ride, and I didn’t fall and was able to hold myself up. The only time I struggled was getting started, as you bear more weight in your wrists and get going. But they didn’t give out. The following Saturday, I met my friend Janna for a yoga class – and with a few modifications, like dolphin instead of downward dog, and doing planks on my elbows instead of my hands, I made it through. Somehow by the end of the class, my calf felt completely fine, too. I’d been going to physical therapy every week, doing calf raises several times a day and trying to stretch. My friend Kelly would drag me out to run/walk to test it out and see how it felt, but I still couldn’t make it very far. A few minutes, maybe 10, and then I couldn’t walk the rest of the day. “Janna, it all feels fine,” I said incredulously. “It’s so weird.” The next morning, Patrick and I ran slow loops at Sertoma, the forgiving dirt path the perfect re-entry. I hit another yoga class that week, rode my bike to work a few days, to restaurants for dinner, ran with Kelly one morning. The entire time, I felt more and more like myself. I apologized to my coworkers for the crankiness of the past month. “I just felt awful all the time,” I told them. And I did. I really missed being outside. I missed feeling strong and capable and confident. I missed being around other people who just like to do what I do. And then there was the embarrassment – good grief, I’m slow right now. I can’t even pretend I can run faster than I am, and it’s hard not to feel like an idiot. But I know that nobody really cares – they care about their own times and races and beyond that are just happy to see you. So on Thursday, I went to the weekly Sioux Falls Area Running Club trail run at Good Earth State Park. There were maybe 10 of us, including someone who had never been there before. We made all our small talk, asked about races, swatted the mosquitoes away, admired each other’s dogs and shirts. And then we set off. “What are you running tonight,” someone asked me. “If I can put together 30 minutes without any pain, I’ll be happy,” I said truthfully. I didn’t want to care about anything else, and I let the group go so I wouldn’t be tempted to run outside of my limits right now and just did my own thing. And it was amazing. Because I love that park, and because the club has been doing this weekly run since before all this stuff was built out there, before my Facebook feed was crammed full of everyone trail running. Because it’s beautiful and hilly and my favorite place to be. It all just keeps improving. I joined up with a bikepacking group out of Spoke-n-Sport this past weekend, and rode about 60 miles over two days, with camping in between, and the full out-loud anti-anxiety self-talk I needed to do to ride down gravel road hills. They weren’t even steep, but I was terrified of falling – don’t break your wrist, don’t break your wrist, I repeated in my head. And it made me think about all our fears, and how to face them. Maybe you’ve never gone on a group run, and you’re afraid you won’t know anybody or people won’t be friendly or you won’t be able to keep up. All of that has happened to me to varying degrees, but it’s also never as bad as I think it could be. An open smile goes a long way – as well as saying, hey, I’m new and a little freaked out. Most people want you to feel better, and they’ll try to do that. That happened to me with the group of riders. They let me do my thing, never acted impatient. I would pause at the top of every hill, let everyone go past me so I didn’t have to worry about cutting someone off by accident or riding into them or even looking over at them and somehow steering wrong. I slowly squeezed my brakes and tried to find the spot somewhere between feeling out of control and controlling so hard I start to fishtail down the hill – or lock it all up and flip, which has happened to me more than once. “Your bike wants to do this,” I told myself. “It loves gravel. It wants to stay upright.” It sounds silly – but it’s what I said in my head, along with “You’re OK, it’s OK, you’re OK,” right out loud. At one point I stopped and watched Patrick coast down the hill, and I almost got off and walked, and then I realized, do that now, and you’ll never get past this. Just keep getting past this. I felt myself think too hard, shaking as I rode, told myself, this is what panic feels like. It’s a real feeling, but the danger isn’t real. It’s not real. It’s OK. It’s weird to write that – but haven’t we all been there? Maybe at the start of a big race, or running a meeting at work, or getting ready to have a really hard conversation with someone. It’s not an unusual feeling, not for me, anyway. But every time I had a little success, I tried to recognize it: You steered into that sandy bit, felt the bike move a way you didn’t expect it, relaxed your shoulders and let it sort of autocorrect, and everything was fine. Confidence is built bit by bit by bit. And I had a community there to help me. I had a yoga class where nobody cared what I was doing, where I stayed in the first pose instead of taking the more advanced options because I wasn’t ready to test my balance and maybe catch myself on my wrist. I ran slowly, so slowly, and went ahead and put it on social media anyway, because we’ve all had to make a comeback and there’s no shame in it. I sang in my head – “I hope that I don’t sound too insane when I say there is darkness, all around us,” from “January Wedding” by The Avett Brothers (my new love – why haven’t I been listening to them for years?). Every time I caught up to Patrick on a hill, I sang Wilco in my head, “You’re going to have to be patient with me,” grateful he didn’t care how we rode, just as happy as I was to be part of the group and spend a weekend camping at Palisades. In the next few weeks, our community is full of events you can attend to meet people doing what you love. The Sioux Falls Area Running Club summer picnic is June 30 at Cherry Rock Park. We’ll have breakfast and a group run, starting at 7 a.m. Come for the run, stay for the food. Come for the food and skip the run. Bring your family, bring your dog, bring a friend. Tell us why you love to run or run-walk or whatever it is you do. Then that same day, Falls Area Bicyclists is holding the Sioux Falls Trail Challenge, a ride around the entire trail with passports for kids to get stamped and various stops along the way. Every week, FAST does trail maintenance. Go help pull out brush and make more trails. Come to Jeri’s yoga classes at 605 Running Co. every Wednesday night after the group run. Or show up on Saturday, and run the bike path. It’s kind of astonishing how much is going on right now – and it only works if we all go to it, and if we welcome every new face we see, and if we show these businesses and nonprofits and grassroots organizations that yes, we want you to keep doing this. Recreation matters. It matters in my city and it matters to my family. After singing about the darkness, the lyrics say: “I don’t feel weak, but I do need sometimes for her to protect me, and reconnect me, to the beauty that I’m missing.” Let this community reconnect you and redirect you. They’ve done it for me, over and over.  Jacqueline Palfy is a longtime runner, reader and writer, marathoner, mom and board member of the nonprofit Sioux Falls Area Running Club. Her contributions to the 605 Running Co. blog will appear every other Tuesday. You can follow her on Twitter @runnerJPK or reach her at jpalfyklemond@gmail.com. Story ideas are encouraged.
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July 2018
Author(s)Various individual(s) expressing their thoughts on running and the impact on everyday life.  |
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