Run from the lightning!

For the novice trail runner, it would behoove you to steer clear of open meadow runs (I realize that sounds like a scene from The Sound of Music) when dark booming clouds are looming in the distance. Being, myself, a novice trail runner, no one alerted me to such common sense lessons. So, last Thursday, as SoxFan and I headed out for a comfortable 3.5 mile run in Elk Meadow Park, our only thought of the clouds was "wow, isn't that pretty?"

Elk Meadow Park is in Evergreen, a town about 20 minutes away. We chose to drive all the way to Evergreen because we have yet to find a reasonable place in our own town of Conifer to run. That, and Evergreen is a bit lower in elevation, taking us all the way down to a meager 7500ft. We chose a trail that we'd spotted from the road, and we thought it looked "not too bad". It seemed to follow alongside the road through a "rolling meadow" with scenic mountain views to the west and peaceful CO-73 on the right... Or at least that's how it was advertised through Jefferson County Open Space.

So, we took off from the trailhead, carefully dodging large rocks and logs and other obstacles determined to break my ankles, and things were going quite well until we met our first hill. Hills and I. We're just not the best of friends yet. I huffed and puffed to the top and finally surrendered to the inevitable- I stopped and bent halfway over to catch my breath. Why I do this is completely beyond me. Do I somehow breathe easier when bent double? Are my lungs operating at higher capacity only when my head is between my knees? Your guess is as good as mine.

We pushed forward, and it seemed like things got a little easier. At the turnaround point, those clouds were looking much more ominous. And only about a half mile into the second half, the bottom fell out of it completely. Huge rain and lightning in every direction, and here we are, running through a wide open field. Smart. I know.

The benefit of running, literally, for your life, is that you can produce some pretty fantastic splits. I maintained 11 minute miles for over a mile, folks. I do not lie. And now I know the difference between running and jogging (at least for me). Running for your life gets you negative splits, jogging gets you positive splits.

So, given my recent dreadmill-only runs, perhaps an explanation of why-the-heck I was out there at all is due. Well, I've signed up for the Denver Half Marathon, folks. And it's coming up on October 19th and I will not, repeat WILL NOT, do all of my training runs on the dreadmill. It's simply too much more fun (and life-threatening) to run outside.

So, I've chosen an actual "Training Plan", hereafter known as the TP, and so far I've done all of 2 training runs. The aforementioned near-death experience and the "Long Run" on Sunday at the High Line Canal in Denver (a mere 5280ft, pft!). Now I didn't break any speed records on Sunday's run, but it was a success nonetheless. SoxFan, Ini and I did 5 miles faster than I did in NYC just a month or so ago.

Unfortunately, I donated blood yesterday (YAY!) and I could barely eek out 2 miles on the dreadmill this evening. To say it was pathetic wouldn't quite do it justice. Tomorrow I'm on for 3.5 miles. Looks like I'll need extra luck to make up for the lack of red blood cells.