I'll huff and I'll puff....

OK. In case there is any confusion whatsoever.... Trail running at 8000 ft = not for sissies.

We took Ini the dogbeast to the doggie park up in Evergreen this morning, because we'd heard it was a great dog park with a trail that ran the circumference of the park. I thought it would be a great place to make my trail running debut. However, when the gentleman told us about said dog park with the "great running trail," he neglected to mention that the park is situated on the side of a mountain. I don't mean a gentle rolling trail. I mean the park climbs at 45 degrees at times. I couldn't even walk around this park without getting winded. Ini had a great time, though.

So, I tucked my little trail running tail and got back in the truck. We decided to try a trail at a park that is closer to where we live. I thought (i.e. rationalized, licked my wounds) that would be a better idea anyway because it's close to the house and therefore it will likely become a route that I frequent. Also, I'd seen this route from the road, and I was quickly impressed by the lack of 45 degree slopes.

All the way there, I was terrified. I felt like I'd left my "Trail running for dummies" book at home. I was intimidated on the way there. I'd seen Trail Runners before, after all, and they're always these totally hard-core, completely fit, uber-athletes, and I felt like I had no business crowding up their trails with my slow shuffle/jog/run. It didn't help matters that I'm accustomed to shuffling/jogging/running at 5280ft, and the run I was about to attempt started at 8000 ft. OK, so it only climbed about 80ft total, but even still....

So, we started out walking, just like I normally do down in town. I figured I had enough new variables thrown into the mix. After about 7 minutes of walking, we broke into a slow (read: uphill) run. The trail wasn't crowded, but we did meet a few folks along the way. And I was amazed to find that they were looking at us with the same awe and amazement that I typically reserve for runners I meet along hiking trails. It was crazy! I had these folks fooled into thinking that I knew what I was doing out there! They thought I was hard-core! Insane!

Before we started we'd agreed upon a turn-around point, so when we got there, we took a break to check the map. I was feeling pretty good (because we'd just settled into a comfortable [read: downhill] pace). Due to my abundance of downhill-gained optimism, we decided to push a little further down the trail. A little further quickly became a little steeper, which became a little slower, which became not so much running anymore. So we walked a bit to let my aching lungs recover, but I ended the day strong by running most of a mile to get back to the truck.

All told, we covered 2.5m, and I ran 1.75m. Not too shabby for my first trail running experience 3000ft higher than I'm used to in the middle of a 90 degree day. My pace was all over the place, but I am blaming it on spotty GPS signals. I know I'm slow, but I just don't believe some of the data I got from the good ol' Garmin today. And even though it put a dent in my recent "swift" pace, and even though I was humbled (but not demoralized) by the terrain, I think I will come to enjoy trail running as much as I enjoy road running. You truly can't beat the scenery, and there's always the added benefit of the potential adrenaline rush that comes from a mountain lion encounter.

After the run, I got to thinking about it... If gaining 3000 ft of elevation can make this big of an impact on my running, how much of an impact will losing 5000 ft be? Could I actually have a comfortable 4-5 mile run at sea-level? That's right, folks. I've decided to just go for it for the 5m race in Central Park on Saturday. I'll probably have to walk some, but I don't care. It'll still be fun and active and it'll make me feel good to do it.