Once back at home, I cleaned up (after lifting weights first, of course) and took an ice bath to dampen any swelling. Within 5 minutes, I was able to jog without any pain. My knees didn't feel too great when I ran. I was a bit shaken, bruised, battered, and bloody, but otherwise okay. The urge was to keep running but Brent convinced me I should walk for a few minutes, at least, to make sure I was okay. Both knees were badly scratched and bloody. I had scrapes all over my wrists, forearms, and left hip.
Although it was a dirt path, apparently there were a lot of rocks. I groaned and rolled over to assess the damage. Of course, all of this complex planning happened in milliseconds. I relaxed and dove forward, doing the Superman belly flop onto the trail. I stopped trying not to fall and began preparing to fall. Suddenly, Brent heard a kerbloop! I tripped on a rock, and in slow motion, realized I was going to fall. Like horses smelling the stable, we started to pick up the pace. I knew the final turn towards the car was near we were about a mile from the start. You could leave the room, and I wouldn't even take a breath (or realize you had left). Touche! I have been known to talk to myself when no one is around. "Well, you also happen to talk a lot more than me." Ha ha. "You're kind of quiet," I commented to Brent. I chatted easily, huffing and puffing up yet another hill. I felt much more relaxed now that we knew where we were going. I thought Black Mountain Park was supposed to be kind of flat? Nothing but! After 3 miles, we turned and headed back. We managed to stay on the designated trail after that. Back again and finally spotted another "Trail" sign. When I finally reached a dry creekbed, I knew we had gone the wrong way.
Turned down another wrong path and ran that way for a bit until the grass grew so long and thick, I felt like were bush-wacking our way in the outback. Maybe that's a clue? Headed down the for a bit, winding over a narrow dirt path littered with rocks. Finally found a tiny little sign that read "Trail". It was tough I didn't recognize anything! The map I had printed didn't show all the alternative trails criss-crossing every which way.
Apparently, I don't think about where I am at all when I race. However, I hadn't run there since my race. Thursday, Brent and I went for an easy-paced 6-mile run at Black Mountain Park ( ).īrent was relying on me to lead the way.
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