It’s been one week, and I think I’m finally ready to talk about it. Last weekend, in what was possibly one of the dumber things I’ve done in life (and if you’ll recall, I’m the one who has lit my shirt on fire with a hair dryer trying to warm myself up in the winter time), I ran up a couple mountains with some friends and suffered the consequences for several days after the fact.
The running uphill part isn’t so bad, in fact I sort of love it. Your butt will hurt and burn the next day, but in a good way like when you eat too much wasabi with your norimaki. Worth it. The downhills, however, are the worst thing ever invented and will make your quads burn and ache with pain for hours and days on end, exponentially disproportionate to the amount of time you spent running down the hill (or mountain) in the first place. It’s the kind of pain that doesn’t let you sleep at night but you have no one to blame but yourself for the problem, and can only really complain to the people who joined you on the run, except they’re too busy dealing with their own pain to listen to you anyway. Vicious.
All of this aching and crying could’ve been avoided of course, simply by not signing up (unacceptable) or maybe putting in some time to actually train on trails instead of pretending the perfectly smooth asphalt is good enough. It’s not. The thing with trails is that there are rocks and tree roots, sometimes muddy sinkholes or five inches of powdery dust-dirt to trap and trip you up.
Thankfully, I only half-fell down twice. Apparently the trails aren’t quite as dangerous as Summit Blvd at the top of Doomsday Hill (remember the time I tripped on the road, rolled, got back up and kept going, then hyperventilated a minute later? Tuck and roll!). There were no blisters to speak of, and only one small cut on the back of my heel from a bad sock/shoe combination. It’s a small win, but I’ll take it!
The race started off with nearly two miles of downhill. The entire way down, Staci and I kept muttering “uh oh’s” to each other. This makes me laugh. We knew right away this was going to be a serious problem, but kept going anyway on account of we’re stupid. The first uphill was incredibly steep and single track. Hard to pass someone or be passed on that kind of terrain. After the first aid station, things got awesome and I’m pretty sure it was really beautiful outside but was too busy watching my footsteps and trying not to fall that I probably missed a lot of it.
After that I don’t remember what happened because I was too distraught from internal wailing and gnashing of teeth. Here are some pictures instead: