On the eve of the Orcas 50k, as with any race, I find myself rabidly consuming race reports from the previous year. The course is fairly well etched into my being at this point - having participated 3 out of the last 3 years - but I always like to share in the experiences of others to try out a new perspective. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon my own report. It is fun to read and re-live this former glory and it makes me feel its perhaps worth picking this whole blogging thing up once more - if for nothing more than posterity.
Updating some of the lists on the right made me realize that I hadn't really given myself space to reflect on the deeds of yesteryear and the growth and progress that resulted.
Ticking off DNS after DNF initially made me doubt myself. Early 2015 was something of a comedy of errors. A false-start or a soft-launch? I'm trending toward the latter as I stand on the precipice of my 2016 'running season'. There are tales in there that I could no doubt tease out. Like digestive system lessons at White River or a phantom jackal encounter in the deep Siskyou at Pine to Palm. If you know me I've probably shared many of these tidbits, and if not then we should probably grab a beer some time.
I'm moved to contemplate the cyclical nature of life. Humans seem to crave renewal through repetition. Be it in their personal lives, political landscape, sporting endeavors or the very fundamental nature of time itself. Orcas Island is fast becoming this for me. It feels like an old friend that I'm bursting with excitement to visit and at the same time like a stern teacher ready to dispense wisdom, truth and justice. I will be measured, I will be examined, I will prevail. But there's probably something about me that changes as I emerge from the fog of the Rosario Strait each February.
Right now sitting in the comfort and warmth of civilized Seattle I can almost feel something in me arcing and buzzing as it prepares for its yearly pilgrimage. I can almost smell the moss. Life and Running are for me cyclical endeavors and I'm increasingly thinking that in this respect Orcas Island is that sweet spot where you can almost see the Ouroboros devouring its tail...
...oh, and this year I got into Western States.
