Sunday, January 18, 2009 - The Roller Coaster

It takes me an hour to get ready for a trail run in the winter. Not only do I have to decide what and how many layers to wear, I have to make sure my gear is in order and my water and fuel supply fresh. Gear checklist: first aid kit, mini-survival kit (if I fall and break my leg and it takes them two days to find me), extra food while I'm surviving, knife, headlamp, flashlight, whistle, compass, water purifier, etc. If I'm going to be gone all day or the weather is questionable, I also carry an extra jacket. Now to get dressed - base layer, cover layer, running tights, running pants, knee pads (average falls per run = 2), gloves, hat, scarf, orange vest, wool socks and shoes. I feel and look like the Michelin Tire Man ( argh - it makes me look 20 lbs heavier)! Finally, it's after 3 pm and I still haven't left the house. So much for a long trail run. I decide to "run" my old friend the roller coaster, thus named for the series of 13 hills with elevation changes from 300 to 700 ft. I'll only be climbing 3 hills out and back. When I first started losing weight, I hiked these hills to get in shape. I considered it a major victory when I made it to the top of the first hill, walking. Today I want to see what damage the ice storm did to the trail. I come to the creek and it's frozen, even the waterfalls. Now I just have to jump across it, without falling through the ice. Fortunately, the water is low right now. Next is the climbing part - it seems harder than I remember - I haven't been on this section since November and the beginning of hunting season. I also can't seem to get the rhythm on the technical (i.e. rocky) sections, and my downhill "sprints" are like tiptoeing through the tulips. But no new downed trees. By the time I get to my turn around spot it's been an hour and a half. Looks like the headlamp will come in use after all. As night approaches, the trail becomes silent, the only noise is the landing of my shoes and my breathing. I've become one with the woods, a mere extension of the roots and rocks under my feet. "Now, if it would only snow." I think. As if on cue, flurries dance about my head. I smile as I negotiate the last hill toward my car. It's good to be back on the trail.