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.
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