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Sunday, April 11, 2021

A New Personal Trainer

I hired a new personal trainer a few months ago because my old one was getting kind of old and grumpy. He has been coaching me for around 13 years and seemed like he was becoming lazy in his old age. (He’s 74 years old.) The last thing you want in a personal trainer is laziness. I need someone who’s going to show up on time and bring a lot of vibrancy to my runs. 

Moonset over Mt Riley and Cox in New Mexico

Ever since I moved to El Paso about 12 years ago, I have been running about five days a week on our local trails at the base of the Franklin Mountains. My coach and I usually cover between 5-7 miles on weekdays. On weekends, I run the Franklin Mountains State Park or travel to the Organ Mountains up the road in Las Cruces, NM to do my long runs. My personal trainer has been helping me achieve my goals for all these years so I felt guilty about giving him the boot. We’ve had a lot of grand adventures together as you can see by reading other posts from my site.

A full moon illuminating an early morning run.

Sadly, he started to oversleep more often and wasn’t waking me up at the designated time in the morning for my run. Therefore, I went with a younger, more energetic lady with fewer miles on her. Junie B is up and raring to go at 5am licking me in my ear to wake me. Tail wagging, she follows me everywhere in the morning whether I like it or not. She even accompanies me into the bathroom while I take care of my pre-run business (for better or worse). She doesn’t let up for even a second until we are out the door and onto the trail. No wonder I rarely miss a day of training.

Lost Dog Trail area as seen from N. Franklin Peak

Junie came to us from a friend who found her wandering the streets. We weren't looking for pet at the time, but somehow she found us. This is how we acquired all our dogs, two who have since passed on. We knew she needed a home so took her in. "June Bug", who is about a year old, didn't have any tags or a microchip and we had to get her spayed, but that's a small price to pay for a loyal running partner.

Junie B

Our 10 year old daughter named her Junie B, after a girl character from a children's book series of the same name, who's always getting into mischief. She is a small thin white and brown patched short haired dog, brindled on the white parts. The right side of her face is brown; the other white, which makes her look like she’s wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask. Her ears are always standing at attention and her eyes are brown with a pink tinge around the white side. She’s scrappy with a fierce bark at times and loves to fetch a tennis ball. She ambushes Taz, the old man, but he seems to be taking it all in stride. 

The Li'l Grasshopper, Junie B and Taz on an adventure

I felt bad about firing Taz, our Mexican hairless dog, so we still let him tag along on our grand adventures. Actually, I think he’s relieved to be semiretired in his old age and he seems to enjoy being the trusty assistant coach. While Junie is young and frisky, she’s a greenhorn on the trail so Taz has been teaching her the ropes. The old man has been around the block once or twice having to learn the hard way. He’s been bitten by a rattlesnake and even cornered a javelina once. He had no fear in his young age, but is much more cautious now.


Read my post: Emergency on the Trail


Last month we were out for an early morning run when my coaches spotted something in the distance. Junie was about to take off running after it when Taz said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Little Whippersnapper.” “And just why not, might I ask?”, she retorted. “Because that's a  coyote; it will eat you alive!” Then he added, "Sometimes they drop anvils on their prey. I saw it on TV!"

Junie and Taz, the Mexican hairless

Sure enough, there was a coyote checking us out and Junie was barking and going crazy. She started to bolt after it, but I yelled at her to “COME!” Luckily she listened this time, but I’m afraid she might do something stupid in the future, so I keep her on the leash now. Taz has been around for a long time and has danced with coyotes more than once in his youth, so he isn’t very interested in them now.


Read my post: Coyote Alley

A coyote we saw by the Rio Grande last year

On another morning, we were on a routine run when I turned around to make sure Taz was still close by. Something didn’t look quite right. I counted three dogs running in a queue. There was Junie right behind me, some random dog and then Taz in the back. My first thought was, stray dog, but, on closer inspection, I noticed that it was a coyote. Then I saw several more following Taz. We were infiltrated by a pack of coyotes! They didn’t attack or cause a ruckus, but just seemed like they were curious and wanted to tag along. Well, I yelled at them like a maniac to “GIT, GO ON!” I raised my hands shouting all the time and they took off trying to escape from the lunatic runner. So, that was that, and we continued on our merry way. 

Coyote snack, female Gambel's quail

Male Gambel's quail

By the way, do you know how to calculate your dog’s age in human years? It used to be that you would multiply 7 times your dog’s age, but things are continuously changing on our planet that is hurling through the universe at around 500,000 mph! (Well, that speed actually depends on relative to what the earth is moving, but I digress.) My University of Google degree taught me that a dog’s age depends on many factors such as the breed and size of the dog, as well as the amount of exercise the dog receives, diet and so on. The American Kennel Club has a very good article on this topic and a useful chart which shows your dog’s age in human years. That explains why Taz can still give the “Li’l Whippersnapper” a run for her money when she starts to tussle with him in the back yard.

Photo: AKC

All this early morning training with Junie and Taz has paid off and I had several good solo long runs to the N. Franklin Peak last month. The temperatures are heating up already in the desert southwest so we went on a water caching mission with the L’l Grasshopper, my daughter. We hiked from the western side of the state park up to Mundy’s Gap, a two mile uphill slog. I have several personal water stashes in the Franklins to aid in my long training runs, so we hid some bottles of water in my energy efficient, all natural rock fridge.

The Franklin Mountains as seen from N. Franklin Peak
Organ mountains in the distance

My go to long run route of late is a mostly out-and-back from the edge of the Franklin Hills neighborhood on the west side, along the foothills over to the wildlife underpass on Transmountain road, a distance of about five miles. From there I head up to the peak, another 4 miles and then I run back. On several of these runs this winter, I ran into Fluffy, a rattlesnake who lives in a hole in the concrete beside the wildlife underpass. On my return trips, she would always be sunbathing in the warm late morning sun. You never know when snakes are lurking about so we remain alert trying to be as careful as we can.

My friend, Fluffy

I did this run every other week for several months, adding several miles each time by running the Lost Dog Trail area. Usually this time of year, I run the Bataan Memorial Death March at White Sands Missile Range, NM, but it was a virtual race this year. I didn’t sign up for it because I have enough race swag, t-shirts, finishers’ medals, gaiters, headbands, hats, buffs, water bottles, wristbands, etc, to last several lifetimes. Instead, I ran a solo marathon; a 26 mile route to remember the victims and honor the survivors of the Bataan Death March. I ran my usual long run route with a double N. Franklin Peak (7192’) ascent/descent. Once at the top, I ran down to the Tin Mines on the east side and then back up again. This was a grueling 8 hour adventure especially the second trip back to the peak on tired rubbery legs. 

Leader of the pack
FAQ: What do you do with all that time spent on the trail? Answer: I just smile at my plight and stay in the present moment not thinking about the tasks ahead like climbing to the top of a mountain. I put one foot in front of the other even if it totally sucks. Just like in life, the misery isn’t going to last and eventually I’ll be flying effortlessly down the other side of the mountain. Sometimes my mind wanders and I start thinking about stupid stuff like, how fast are we traveling through the universe? Or, how old is Taz in human years?

Sometimes I work with a zen koan which is a poem, story or question to help you realize the true nature of life and our world. The problem is that you can’t arrive at the answer by using your intellect, but must stop your mind from thinking. Non-thinking or thinking? Maybe it goes beyond thinking and not thinking, I don't know. A great paradox, you must abandon everything you’ve ever learned about “the way things are”! Here’s one for you to try on your next long run, because what better do you have to do while running for eight hours?

In the Sea of Ise, ten thousand feet down,

Lies a single stone;

I wish to pick up that stone

Without wetting my hands.


On the stone a name is inscribed.

What is the name?


On one side of the name it reads,

“Cannot get wet.”


On the other side of the name it reads,

“Cannot get dry.”


Now climbing to the top of N. Franklin Peak twice doesn’t seem as daunting, does it?


If you need help solving this one, read The Flowing Bridge by Sister Elaine Macinnes, a Catholic nun, Julliard trained violinist and certified Zen Master. I know, weird right? Or is it? 


See you on the trail.

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