The bad: I wasn't in the amazing shape my last long run had me believing.
The ugly: We've already covered the foot thing.
So, we (10 strong from Columbus Running Club) took a little roadtrip to Hocking Hills.
The day started very early, as all good trail runs should. Twisting, turning, an hour of driving, and some car-sickness later, we pulled into the parking lot and prepared to run.
The trail starts off following the road, mostly through the park and the outlying areas. Then it starts will the hills, always with the hills this one. Oy. I couldn't handle the pace on the steepest of the downhills, what you want that I should fall? So, I gently eased down the hill with reckless abandon and quad-busting speed. How bad could these hills be?
I soon found out as we turned back onto trails and immediately went straight up. And up. And up, and after my sherpa quit, I was just about half way there. Suddenly, I felt that all of the kvetching about the hill was justified. It was a certified killer. I'm glad I wasn't racing it, or going to have to run another, oh 10 miles.
The trail alternated for the next several miles between rolling, gently rolling, moderately rolling, rocking and rolling, and the seldom seen: rolling on the river. The scenery was nice, at least as far as I could tell while shvitzing profusely, panting desperately, and trying to remain vertical.
We took a few breaks to "regroup." Eventually, we came to the lake. (Pictures coming, oh when I finish the roll of film in about 3 years, you should be so lucky.) At that point, we began to separate. By the time we emerged from the woods by the campgrounds, our band of 10 was down to 5. Oh well, at least one of our group had driven, right?
On we went. Over rocks, streams, poison ivy. At long last we made it back to the road, only a bunch more to go! Up and up we went, ever slower as the road wound on. With my spirits fading and my energy nearly gone, I saw the cars and stumbled to the end.
Of course, nobody was there. Even the people I finished with were nowhere to be seen. This is not good. Fortunately, it was only a matter of time before even the last of the band made it in and we shared our triumphs and successes. Of the klutzes among us, only one fall (Greg, as promised) nobody was permanently lost (the buddy system, works every time!)
A few wise souls washed off the schmutz before we loaded up the cars again and returned to Columbus, weary but well earned.
