Trail Running While Bushwacking Fun in Theory

On a recent northern Wisconsin camping trip, my sister and I set out on a bit of a trail running adventure. We headed out with the dogs to try a couple of trails mentioned briefly in our camping guide. The first one we stopped at followed the Peshtigo. We set out down a narrow, windy, and overgrown path (not the best combination, especially with two energetic mutts) and immediately began hopping thorns and downed trees on what was supposed to be a three-mile loop. Now, I enjoy a hard-core trail run; I don’t mind scraped calves and switchbacks, and I actually enjoy jumping logs, but when the trail has so many side trails that you don’t know which trail is the real trail and you end up dead-ending at water’s edge over and over, you begin to feel a bit like you are in the ground-hog day of trail runs and you just want out. So, that’s what we did. The heroic-explorer-adventurer feeling wore off quickly and it was probably best. The rumbling of “forest trucks” we kept hearing over the bridge through the trees were actually rolls of thunder out of an extremely dark western sky.

Trail Runners vs Road Runners

Trail runners versus road runners.  Not which is better, but that they are not the same. The road runners I know are a different breed – their heads are full of mindbending calculations, microseconds, aerodynamics, and such. There are no calculations in trail running.   There are no microseconds on trail runs and there are no certainties. You can’t look at your watch and calculate your next mile because you can’t see around the trees. You don’t know which way the branches have fallen or if a trail was mowed. You don’t know how deep the mud puddles are or if that ice will give out. There is no knowing what’s under those leaves or if you can trust the rotting bridge again this time. How high is the creek? You can’t see who is in front of you or who is behind you. You don’t know what that noise was deep in the trees or why the birds got so quiet.  You can only put one foot in front of the other, charge up that hill, breath in damp earthiness, smile, and be one with your run.

What Did I Ever Do to You, Piriformis?

There are many types of muscle pain that pop up as a runner. And most are understandably my fault; I was too lazy to stretch, I did too much hill work, I increased my mileage by too much… But the piriformis muscle confounds me. Out of no where it will rear its evil head in my glute and have me wincing while simply walking. Or sitting. Or laying. Not the day after a run, but two days after a run. Or three. And for no apparent reason, when everything else is just fine and dandy. This tiny, direct, and sharp pain is so deeply hidden it can barely be reached. And only at home – for sake of office etiquette.

And the worst part is the relief method.  Tennis ball massage. This involves sitting on the floor with a tennis ball under your glute, with all of your weight on the ball, and slowly rolling until you hit the piriformis with the ball.  You will know. It is the closest I have ever come to unbearable pain. The last relief session I did caused an entire nerve to radiate in pain all the way down my leg and made my toes curl. But you do reach a point where the pain subsides, sort of, and there is some type of relief. I think of it as poison dissolving away. And I guess technically there is some truth to that; built-up toxins are being released. What did I ever do to you, piriformis?

My Legs Are Powerhouses

When I arrived at the Scuppernong trailhead at 8am I felt late. The one hour drive had been so peaceful and all of Eagle had seemed to still be asleep. So when I saw at least 12 cars parked in the lot, I felt a bit behind the pack. And the pack was nowhere to be seen. Five miles of winding hills and the only trekkers I came across were 2 ladies on a leisurely hike. As I passed them I thought to myself how ridiculous I must have looked; wearing FiveFingers and a running skirt, my iPhone strapped to my arm, sporting a CamelBack and flashy Buffwear, dog at my side… I definitely had a gear junky thing going. But I didn’t care. 

Miles one through two took me, or so it seemed, nothing but up, straight up, on rocky rutted terrain.  Hill…. level.. hill… level.. hill… Oh my God, what was I thinking, I will never be ready for this! I stubbed my toe, for the first time ever in FiveFingers, on a root. My whole foot tingled and my head buzzed. I wanted to cry.  WHAT was I thinking? I can’t run 13.1 in THESE!!

Miles two and three, thank God, were fairly rolling, mostly dirt trails with low vegetation, some sand, some pine needles, some chips… Ahhh… My left hip felt tight, I took some time to lunge and kick; loosen up a bit.  That didn’t last long.  Thank you mosquitoes.

Mile four started me up another monster.  I was ready. I leaned forward, sucked in, and focused on my quads pulling me up like a machine… my legs were powerhouses. I felt like a steam engine. I didn’t slow, I didn’t stop, I just kept pushing, steady, and up. And I made it. I felt amazing. Invincible. I let out a loud WHOOOOO that echoed in the silent woods. Then I stopped dead. I had to – or I would have lost my breakfast. And I nearly did – like five times. But it was great. A minute or two later I was running again, downhill, thank God, picking up speed and trying hard to keep my eyes ahead of my feet on the rocky rutted slopes.

Mile five ended the loop.

Enter mosquitoes, flies, and more mosquitoes.  I tied the dog to a picnic table and did some hip yoga as I watched an obvious trail runner (huge massive thighs) doing sprints on the pavement. Talk about powerhouses. His bumper sticker said 13.1. I felt some camaraderie, though he didn’t seem to notice me. But amen, my hair was soaked and I had bug guts all over my shiny body. Practicing yoga with one arm swatting mosquitoes is a whole new kind of yoga. Extra core work, I think.

What a morning. What an awesome place.  I cannot believe I live so close and ran these trails for the first time last Sunday. I’ve come a long way. From not being able to run two miles on flat roads to being able to run five miles of intense trails in FiveFingers without knee or calf pain. Not yet enough for race day, but, if this is all I can ever do, I will be okay with that!

It is 29 days and counting until my personal registration deadline for the Midwest Regional TNF Endurance Challenge in Eagle.

You Are Your Own Worst Enemy

I’ve heard it said many times that when it comes to running, I am my own worst enemy.  I have come to agree. I either search my brain for an excuse to sleep in or push myself into an over-zealous training plan and risk an early-season injury for a late-season goal.

I was recently inspired to sign-up for the North Face Endurance Challenge - Midwest Half Marathon this September. I haven’t actually signed up yet – I am waiting until August to see how things pan out – but I am already dreaming of winding tree-lined trails and glacial lakes. 

My training calendar is all laid out – and yes – it is vigorous.  But, I really think I can do this.  Yes, I am still overcoming “injury”. ITBS, some muscle imbalances, and a popping hip tendon of sorts, but all is improving. And I can’t help but predict – if I keep doing what I’m doing - it will only get better. Leg lifts, Pilates, yoga, psoas stretching, massage – it’s all on the calendar.

Now to pick out a four mile loop for this evening…