Yesterday I was running one of my favorite loops and I was thinking of how quickly the standard of “competitive” or “fast” has changed over the last few years in the world of American distance running. As the little cogs in my mind turned I began to climb Poor Man’s Road. Poor Man’s is a steep little dirt road up 4-mile canyon just West of Boulder. As I climbed higher up into the Rocky Mountain Air, I surveyed the hills to the Northwest. I used to gaze in that particular direction because the hills were rather serene and majestic and beautiful and all that jazz. They’re still moving, but now I make a point to look in that direction because the hills are black and scorched. A fire burned a large area Northwest of Boulder last summer and it won’t be the same for quite a while.

As I thought about the fire and I thought about what changed the standard in American distance running, the thoughts kind of melded into this stupid, cheesy metaphor for me. It just kind of happened on its own as I let my imagination run wild. At that point, while my brain was deprived of oxygen, I decided I’d share my crappy metaphor with you and anyone else who is foolish enough to read my blog. I thought it might be inspiring or motivating for everyone. Don’t expect this often, because I come from a place where sappy bullcrap, motivational speeches and team cheers weren’t often part of the formula.

Ok, so I think I’m ready to share my daydream with you. Promise you won’t laugh. I saw this metaphorical forest. We’ll call it the “Forest of Limits” or the “Great Forest of Doubt”. If you come up with a better name please comment and I’ll change it. I want it to sound like something out of Lord of The Rings. Anyway, the forest was burning. The trees were these giant doubts and limits and perceptions of reality. It was like a Redwood forest, but these trees were old and frail, ready to snap in the wind. They were dark and covered in moss. The flames were exceptional and defiant performances. They were devastating an old-growth forest of perceived barriers.

Now that I’m done with that little acid trip, let me explain further.