Thursday, April 16, 2009

a week way too fast: running in barichara

Kicked my quads.

I optimistically hoped to run four times. I managed to lace my running shoes twice, once with Sonia and again on my own. And twice was enough. I was hungry for more but my legs were beat. It's been a long time since I've had beat legs so that felt good. Tough, tired and pushed.

I don't know my distance or mile times. I kept track of time running and managed about eighty minutes running both times out. I'm happy with that. It was a different kind of running for me, a good change. You have to run early in Barichara because the sun comes out hot hot hot and you want to be in a cold shower by the time the rocks get warm. And there are a lot of rocks. Barichara is in the mountains so it's all hills.

All. Hills. On Monday, Sonia and I were out the door at quarter after six, running down down down out of town where the cobbled road turns to dirt and starts going up up up. I prefer running uphill but these hills weren't gradual. I can handle long, gradual incline. This was long, steep. All of my tough hills - the Monster Hill on the way to school (the one I avoid, taking a different route), the hill that intersects County Highway F in my hometown, a short steep little nightmare in the last town I lived - all of my tough hills were stacked one after another in Barichara. Even so, running up is so much easier than running down. On the downhills, I kept thinking run light run light trying to land lightly, keep more bounce than thud. Still, when I rolled out of bed on Tuesday, it felt like someone had taken a meat tenderizer to my quads.

The dirt roads were packed in most places. Some loose gravel, some rainwashed ruts. Large rocks. On the steepest sections of road, stone and concrete tracks were laid to keep the road from disappearing in a storm, give something for truck tires to hug. I kept looking up: to the bend in the road, to the shadow, to the stone gate, to the next rise, to the fuschia flowers. Get there. Just get there.

I had to walk parts. I carried a hydration pack with fruit tucked inside too. That energy helped. I fantasized being runner enough to tackle a multi-day adventure race. Because the thing is, when you're out in the middle of somewhere so beautiful you want days of that. You want to watch the sun arc over the layers of mountains. You want to see what's over that next hill. On Wednesday morning, out on my own, I wanted that solitude to last. Peace. It tastes good, eating fruit and silence before tracking your course back to the start of your day.


Joanna Goodman said...

very eloquent there at the end Sarah.

You are ubber. I am proud of myself today because I got up with Ron and was out the door before 6 to the gym where I walked an hour and then ran two miles. It feels so good, but there is only a brick wall in front of me. (I read). Your trip sounds like it went well, and I admire that hardcore runner in you :)

Angela and David Kidd said...

That runs sounds amazing. I've had those feelings before when I've been out running on trails in national or state forest preserves, but never when I've gone out a run out my front door.

Mnowac said...

Sounds so nice! I miss my early morning runs so much. Before I was preggo I used to run before work and loved coming up with the sun. I hope to get back to it soon.