Craig Wisner

The Week

A coyote slinking through the dark-

spooked as I approach, I give a futile chase.

It knows I can’t outrun it; stays comfortably 400 meters ahead, trotting while I’m sprinting, before turning off into the night.

Feet rhythmically crunching dirt, rock, gravel- between breaths in the dark.

No watch, no light, no time, no thoughts.  A crescent moon in a lone cloud.


Everything has been going well for base building over the last few weeks.  I’m trying to get back into the steady habit of running, getting out at least 5 days, logging about 30 miles per week.  Keeping the long runs short for now, weeks consisting of a 10-12 mile long run, and 4 ~5mile runs, all on trail (excepting one track workout per week).  The body is no longer in revolt, everything settles in comfortably in the first mile.  Running really stinks when you don’t do it regularly.

Despite my initial optimism, the Inov8s are feeling clunky; I’m a minimalist, keep going back to my NB Minimus Trail (MT10).  Lighter, flatter, sockless, with a more natural strike.  The Inov8s will be good for backpacking and I’m still interested in using them for runs past 20 miles.  Short of that, they’re proving bulkier than what I’m used to.

Plan on holding in the 30-35 MPW range for the next few weeks, letting my joints settle, getting a comfortable base back.  At that point, I’ll start pushing the mileage, especially the long runs.

Mushka has been out with me on every long run…little dog now knocks off 10-12 miles effortlessly.  She sees me putting on running shorts and she goes berserk.  The 13 pound maniac chased a six-point buck up a hillside last weekend, bounding and arcing through grass and brush like a deer herself.

Running for the love of running, leaving the watch at home, logging only approximate miles.  Trying to fend off the drudgery of science, keeping the runs in the realm of art and spirit.  This seems to be where I do best.


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