Trailing behind

The 5 mile trail loop at Lake Redman yesterday actually proved to be a very satisfying and mentally invigorating run. I was weary of trail running since my last endeavor, but when you actually take enough water and wear appropriate shoes, running on a trail is pretty enjoyable. We woke up around 5:30 a.m. so we could be on the trail by 6:15 and not subject to unbearable humidity during the run. The loop was challenging with little opportunity to simply “coast along”, and I’m still struggling to regain all the fitness I lost after plantar fasciitis sidelined me for months. I briefly considered taking pictures of myself on the path to post on here, but then I remembered that I hate pictures of myself so that didn’t really pan out. You’ll just have to mentally picture the looming trees, a serene lake, and an out of breath girl feigning an unnatural interest in rocks on an incline while hikers passed her.

My two biggest obstacles with this trail run were the varying elevation and difficult terrain. The translation: my two biggest obstacles with this trail run were the ungodly amounts of steep inclines and the crazy narrow footpaths up these majestic inclines. The Alabaster Runner has a really annoying tendency to omit elevation stats for any runs that he plans, which has consistently resulted in the most bitching hill work possible. I don’t know if he does this on purpose since I haven’t fully professed my love for all things hilly, but after the second or third never-ending incline on this trail – I announced (to no one in particular) that his running mapping privileges would be revoked. At one point he tried to assure me that an incline was coming to an end and I muttered back something like, “well it has to - only Mount Everest would continue going at this point”. I need to curb my attitude on hills, it’s a 12 step program.

With that in mind, I have to bow down to the veteran trail runners out there because running with uprooted stems, skinny paths, and jagged rocks is no joke. I kept my eyes intensely focused on the ground, just waiting for the tree root that would trip me, break my fragile femur bone, and end what some would call the greatest running career of all time.  We started our run early enough that we only came across two other runners coming from the other side and after we all passed one other, I got to thinking about how trail races even feasibly exist. There were spots on that run that were so mind boggling narrow an Olsen twin would have to suck it in to get by; how are there races solely on trails where passing someone isn’t tempting death? I need enlightenment.

Being off the road and covered by shade was a delightful change from running on pavement with nothing between me and the sweltering rays of the sun. For the last .5 mile we ran directly beside the lake with an unobstructed view of the water, completely peaceful and definitely worth the inclines. I think we are both in agreement that we want to work in more trail runs into our regiment since we have access to some beautiful parks. The A.R. even said that after the run he felt more energized and alive than he had felt in awhile – exactly 45 minutes later he tried to go back to bed. That’s my superstar!

Trail Running - Good vs. Evil (mostly evil)

I don't like to talk about the worst effing run of my extensive two year running life, but since nobody asked here I go:

Short Version - C & O Canal, December 2010

The Alabaster Runner and I were visiting his father and brother in West Virgina before Christmas and smack in the midst of intense marathon training, so we decided to have our scheduled 18 mile long run on the C & O Canal early one morning. We packed our energy bars, water, Garmin, and headed off into the bone chilling temperatures that actually froze my water bottle several miles into the run. The run was doomed from the start, the trail was icy (I didn't even know dirt could be icy, what a delightful treat!), rocks were everywhere (we both were wearing Vibram bikilas), and the Alabaster was in a foul mood because we severly underestimed how much water two people needed on an 18 mile training run. After about 10 miles of this incredibly fun run, our legs felt like lead and it was a struggle to not fight over the last remaining drops of water. (If I'm recalling events correctly, I'm pretty sure this run led to our first sincere irritation with each other as newlyweds - that says a lot).

Because of the above reasons, we turned back early in the run and cut it down to a 16 miler - although we still had to walk an additional two miles back to his dad's house in the bitter cold. I still refer to this horrific experience as "the run where I lost my faith in God" only to have my belief system restored when I discovered freshly brewed coffee back at the house.

I bring this story up now because I have my first trail run since that experience scheduled for tomorrow morning. Granted it's only a five mile run with significantly warmer temperatures, but I'm still trying not to wet myself at the thought of another trail run. Trail runs aren't always so damaging to someone's pysche right?

As peaceful at winter trail running looks, it was comparable to hell on earth.

So hot....

To further drain my bank account this month on running related items, I signed up for HARRC 7 km race at 7 p.m. on August 26^th in Harrisburg. Odd distances like 7 km always get my attention because I relish getting a new PR without any real exertion on my part. I’m praying that a 7 p.m. race is on the cooler end of the day because the past few days of running have been dreadful. The heat has been zapping my energy, leaving me mentally and physically drained during the runs. And not that good kind of “wow, I just completed a 15 mile run with hills” drained – more like the “its so godd*** hot out here I would subject myself to a Ryan Reynolds movie just for a cool breeze” drained.

I commented to the Alabaster Runner that I’ll be happy once this insufferable heat spell is over – only to realize a moment later that this “heat spell” is actually more commonly referred to as summer and lasts for another two months. On a purely vain note, this summer is also causing some epidemic tanning issues from running; I don’t even where to begin on fixing criss-crossed tan lines. With no other options available, I’m forced to gut it out in the sun’s rays and continue taking cold showers like an athletic-ish psychopath (I vaguely remembering reading that only the most insane murderous people take cold showers, but my base of knowledge is US Magazine so I might be slightly off).    

 The only one taking the brunt of the heat worse than me is my poor double coated pug, Hershey. We took all the dogs out for a 10 minute walk yesterday and Hershey decided halfway through that she just would rather live in the cornfields than walk another step in this arduous journey. She plopped down on the soil and gave me huge pug eyes that read, “screw you and your exercise, this is clearly a solid case of animal abuse”.

It’s hot. It’s sticky. And to quote a great line from a movie whose title I can’t remember and don’t care enough to research – “we must be a mile from the sun”. Take it easy on your runs everyone, unless you live somewhere significantly cooler – in which case, I need to visit you immediately.