Have any of you heard of a running cult called The High Ledge?
It sounds dumb typing it out. But let me tell you about my last few weeks. Besides, I think I just need to write it out to think through things and share it with others who might know something. I don’t talk about my running much, I’ve always preferred running alone, and with COVID, the only person I have to share this with is my fiance - who took little interest. Although, she did suggest I come on here with it to see if anyone else knows about The High Ledge. So here it goes.
I have trained many different ways over the years. Lydiard, Daniels, Pfitzinger, Igloi, Canova. But the new year rolled around and I decided I just wanted to take off the thinking cap and run as far as the farm schedule would allow, each and every morning.
So I nailed a road map to the wall of our cabin (my queen was displeased), routed a few big loops through the county and started knocking them out before farmwork in the afternoons. Lots of tractorwork, plant/seed ordering and time in the hoop houses so labor has not interfered with the miles yet. I am in a rural area so the only other folks I usually come across on my morning runs are fellow farmers and a few cyclists.
Until I met Lee.
A couple weeks into this routine, I was about a third of the way through with one of these loops and feeling pretty good about myself. Well, coming the other way at an absolutely incredible pace was this waifish man in black cotton splits and a black cotton shirt. The man looked like he was chasing after a runaway car so much so that I turned back to see if there was some disaster behind me. Nothing. I turned back and he was just standing there, 20 paces up, calm but like he disapproved of me. I ran wide into the middle of the road to pass when he said, “What is your name?” I stopped and stepped off to the shoulder.
“Sykes. Yours?”
“Lee,” He said.
“I don’t usually see anyone else running out here. Damn, you looked like you were running from the devil coming past Buckhorn Road up there.” My mom always said that of me as a boy; that I looked like I was running from the devil.
“I am.” He said with a straight face. I laughed. I liked the guy’s dry humor. But then he said, “I’ve seen you a few times the last couple weeks. You are covering some decent ground around here. How far have you gone?”
I wasn’t sure what he was asking. I thought he meant how far had I gone down this road, so I told him I had once tapped the county line sign and come home in under 3 hours. I wasn’t used to talking to others about this stuff. I was sort of angry at myself for sounding like I wanted to impress him. “No, how many miles have you covered in a week.” I told him I had a couple weeks at 135 last Winter but it left me feeling strange and melancholy. I made a joke about how, besides, I need to keep the Mrs. happy.
He smiled. “That passes. Keep at it and she will love you more for it.” He handed me a black business card. The only thing written on it was the email address
.
I looked up and he was far down the road, back to an astonishing pace.
I finished out my loop, got home, showered, ate some breakfast and sat at my desk. It dawned on me that Lee was wearing unmarked clothing and shoes. I sort of chuckled to myself in disbelief. What a strange encounter. The guy had no accent from around here. He looked like an escapee from the Quaker retreat center near here, except he was in his 20s or 30s. And though it has been a wet Winter, he was tan as if it were the middle of Summer.
After placing some orders for trays and dripline, I sent Lee an email thanking him for the encouragement and if he wanted to share some miles, I’d be back on that loop in a couple days.
A couple days came and went and no word from Lee. But as I was grinding up the same damn hill, there he came again, same blistering pace. “Did you hear back?” He asked.
“Hey! Here back?”
“Did you hear back from The Ledge?” So I guess it wasn’t his email he gave me?
“Oh, no I didn’t.”
“You will. Sometimes it takes a while. The first one is almost always, ‘101 in singles’. That number is important to them. It is sort of their initiation.” Bizarre!
“Are you saying the email you gave me is like a running coach?” Lee started laughing like a freaking jackal, I looked around to see if anyone was concerned.
“The High Ledge is not a coach. It’s not a club. It’s a...I don’t really know what it is. I have run with other Ledgers during ceremonies but outside of that, I am basically on my own, putting in the miles.”
“What is the training like?” I asked because it seemed like Lee had been at this for a while and there is always that bit of envy when you can tell just by looking at someone that they could crush your best effort on any given training run.
“I am told to keep a detailed ledger but I am no longer permitted to share the numbers with others. I’m sorry. In all honesty, I wish I could. I’ve been standing on the ledge, as they call it, for 3 years now without having fallen once. They tell me that if I maintain unwavering adherence, that falling becomes impossible. As you move along, certain permissions are granted and certain freedoms are revoked. I don’t know why or when they happen but I can tell you this: there is so much more to running than I ever could have imagined.”
So, there we go. Cue the fiddle music. Does this sound familiar to anyone? What this sounds like to me is someone much smarter than myself having a go at an untalented hack. At first, I was intimidated by Lee, but after that last interaction with him, I am sort of just unnerved. If the guy is having a go, what a strange thing to do. If he is telling the truth, well that is strange as well.
This has taken a while to get out. I fancied myself a writer at a different time in my life, a musician in another. I’ve gone through many phases over the years. If for no other reason, it has been nice to consider this strange story in a more measured way. I still can't get the guy Lee's face out of my head though.
The farm is in good shape, I am in good shape, my fiancé and I are well and life is pretty simple right now despite the pandemic.
A few days ago I got a response back from that email address. Lee was right. Word for word it reads: “101 in singles. Welcome Sykes.”
The mileage shouldn’t be an issue, I think I hit 99 last week with 1 day off. I’m going to see where this goes and if anyone who has experience with The High Ledge could tell me what the ceremonies Lee was talking about are like, or what any of this is for, I’d like to know. Thanks,
sykes