Occasionally I'm confronted with truths about myself that are not pleasant. Sometimes when this happens I can become slightly offended because, while true, I've yet to come to terms with the truth and it stings. Other times when people point out my flaws I just smile and laugh along because it's a truth I've come to own, made no real headway in changing or at least decided that laughing is better in a restaurant than crying.
What exactly am I skirting around? My sister called me a whiner. On more than one occasion. Maybe the day after every post I've written this year to paint a more accurate description. I can laugh and smile because, most of the time, while this might surprise you, I read my own blog. I know it sounds whiny. I am whiny. Not always. But my blog is like an extension of my running journal, it's meant to be cathartic. If I can't whine and let it all hang out then it loses my interest if not yours. But maybe I've been perhaps a tad too whiny of late?
So in an honest effort to not lose a reader, I present you, in my best effort, a good run.
But first, the backstory.
Last summer Todd and I took the kids out to see this thing, you may be familiar with it, it's called the Appalachian Trail. We hit the footbridge that crosses the James River and did about a half hour's hike in one direction. I was in love and pumped to go for a run on the "AT". So a few short weeks later we organized a run on a Sunday afternoon where we planned to run from the Footbridge to Petits Gap and back. A few people said they would meet us out there. But no one else showed and we started the trek alone on what would be one of the hottest runs of the entire summer. We ran too hard at the start and I cursed the ridge line as the sun beat down upon us not even halfway into the entire run. We turned around at Petits Gap which wasn't even much to see to be honest and headed back to our car. Two miles later both our hydration packs were empty. We had no water, no food, it was hot as Hades and we still had seven miles to the car. I wasn't whiny, I was irrational and may have become unhinged. Fortunately, Frank Gonzales showed up with water and a GU and saw us back to the creek crossings. It goes down as one of the worst runs I've ever had. Yet I've been meaning to go back.
So exactly a year later, on another hot and sunny Sunday afternoon much like the one last year another Petits Gap run was planned.
This time we actually organized it with people who showed up; Kevin Corell, Chelsie Viar, Joe Alderson, Sam Dangc, and then of course Todd and I. And we were smarter, or at least had a smart, generous friend (Kevin) who was willing to drive an extra hour and stash water at Petites Gap for us. So before we ever got started we were in better shape than we were last year.
After a few minutes in the parking lot we started off on the day's run. Todd, Sam and Joe were planning a slightly longer route where they hit the Belfast trail down to the Devil"s Marbleyard and then took a gravel road up to Petites. I wasn't sure which way I was going to go but decided at the shelter to hold up and wait for Kevin and Chelsie. I decided that the day's goal would be to best my effort from last summer, complete the run in a time better than 4:52. I knew this shouldn't be hard as wrong as last year's run went, but I still wanted to be careful until the turn around.
Chelsie, Kevin and I hiked most of the next climb and then ran easy along the more level sections, I was feeling good. At about mile five I was just running really smooth and comfortable and even enjoying the occasional spots of rocky terrain, seeing them as training for Iron Mountain coming up this weekend.
Nearer the top Chelsie took the lead and went up and over that last rocky climb well. I let Kevin and Chelsie pull away and ate a Strawberry Waffle (the tummy hasn't been in love with these but my taste buds and I are!). I went at my own steady pace up and over the final climb to Petites Gap, remembering how difficult it had seemed the year before. Now other than how grown up this section was it was relatively smooth sailing. I was having a pretty good day.
We made it to Petites Gap in 2:13, I have no idea how long it took us to get there last year but I knew that I had taken it far more conservatively this time around to the top. We refilled out packs and ate some cookies killing about 6-7 minutes, all the while time clicking away. I generally will not stop my Garmin for any reason on a run, not for any reason in particular other than I seem to ALWAYS forget to restart it. We headed back out, in the direction of the car, at 2:20. I hoped we could cover the second half which is predominantly downhill in less than 2:10.
The first section of a half mile or so back uphill over some rocks and back through the grown up grass and weeds we took easy and hiked. But when it leveled out I started running with that 2:10 on my mind. I took the downhills comfortably hard not too concerned about my quads or Iron Mountain coming up in less than a week's time.
I ran a ways and came to a split in the woods that I was uncertain of how to proceed I waited for the group. Moments later Chelsie, Kevin and Sam Dangc appeared. Sam had caught us despite having run approximately 3 miles longer. He's fast like that, we didn't hold it against him. Then Todd showed up and after a bathroom break I was worried we had dilly dallied too long and took off downhill at a quicker clip than was probably necessary or smart.
I finally slowed as my pack was upsetting my stomach once again and I let Sam pass by me. I ran a little further on but my stomach was only getting worse. I was worried of a repeat of the misery that was the Grindstone training run but I was also worried about dumping my water from my pack and having a repeat of last year's frightening Petites run on dehydration. Todd offered me one of his water bottles (that was empty) so I stopped, poured as much of the water from my pack into the bottle and then dumped the rest of my hydration pack. During this Kevin and Chelsie caught back up with us and we took off once more in a group.
My stomach was instantly feeling better and I was running well and then I lost the trail. I mean I stepped off the side of the trail and a downhill section. I went down, throwing Todd's bottle off the side of the trail in the interim. He helped me up and I estimated the damage done while he went down the hill to rescue his bottle. I had scratched the side of my knee fairly well but I could run on it. We took to running again and not more than a few hundred feet downtrail Chelsie did a very similar thing. It was almost funny the fact that we couldn't stay on the trail. It's narrow, but not that narrow. We laughed and mosied for a minute. Then I heard Todd yell "JOE". I thought he'd seen Joe, apparently he was just yelling for Joe while we were meandering along laughing about our inability to stay on trail.
Well when Todd yelled Joe something clicked in me. I asked Chelsie if Joe who had also gone the longer route was really behind us. She said "I don't know, but run like he is." If you know me, you know that 'race' is my trigger word. It was kind of like Chelsie had yelled 'race'.
So I did what made the most sense.
I took off.
It was downhill and full of switchbacks and I ran just nice and hard. It wasn't that I was running from Joe, I was just ready to pick it up after the stopping and starting and falling. It wasn't long before I came to the second to last creek crossing that you cross on the way back to the footbridge. Sam was there soaking his leg. He'd fallen twice during the run and had a nice egg sized bump on his shin. I stopped long enough to ask him if he was okay. He said he was, I told him to get up, Joe was on our trail or he wasn't but either way I had a goal of 4:30 for this run.
He got up and we ran along and then the trail started to descend even more. Sam Dangc is far faster than me. Even if he's been in California all summer just running for fun he is and always will be faster than me. But I was hellbent on not being slow enough on the descent for him to need to go around me. So I picked up the pace even more. Again, with Iron Mountain approaching maybe this was dumb. But I do not care. I enjoyed every step of that decent. I mean I ran faster and better on that decent (mostly) than I have at more races I've ever won. I needed that descent. Stupid or not.
We made it to the shelter and the creek crossing and without a word between us went into that creek, washing our faces, drinking the water, taking in it's cool refreshing power. Todd came along shortly after and made me feel even better, he said he'd let it all go to catch us and couldn't. That made me feel even better.
Now it was just a little further back to the car, maybe a mile and a half? Two miles? Well being that close I decided that I would continue on eating nothing (because, mostly, I'm DUMB). I'd be in the car soon enough with cookies, I could wait. I hadn't eaten anything since the cookie at Petits Gap. I ran along and Sam passed me and then Todd. Before long I recognized that the slipping speed was a bonk. I was bonking because I'd chosen not too eat anything on the second half despite knowing that I wanted to negative split the run. But I'm dumb and still didn't eat anything. So my pace slipped and slipped. I even walked a level section once the bridge was in sight. But I didn't care. I knew I was going to be well within my goal of 4:30.
Todd was slowing too so I caught up with him and we ran mostly together, suffering quietly but collectively back to the footbridge. We made it back to the bridge in 4:13. I had managed to take nearly 40 minutes off of last year's run. I was, with what little energy I had left, ecstatic, even if I'd run the second half STUPID. Which I had.
Joe, as it turns out, wasn't right behind me. It didn't matter anyways. I wasn't running from him, I was running from the memory of that terrible first run on the AT. Overall, despite the fact that I still run foolhardy at times I can tell I'm becoming a stronger runner because I knew I was choosing to run dumb and noticed these things for what they were as they were occurring unlike last year when we took the AT for granted, started way too hard and fell apart, with no water or fuel between us.
-Alexis
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