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In fact, it didn't just kick my ass, I'm pretty sure it chewed it off completely then turned around and served it to me on a silver platter with flatware and condiments.<br><br>
Although, B thinks I'm just being dramatic. <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/biggrin.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Very Happy"><br><br>
Bangin' in the Brush is an 11k trail run that happens north of Duluth at Korkki Nordic. Korkki is private land that has the prettiest cross-country ski trails ever. Every September, they have a trail run as a fundraiser - the first was 25 years ago to raise money to stop the sanitary district from putting a landfill next to the trails.<br><br>
There is no landfill there. <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/smile.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Smile"><br><br>
Today dawned beautifully. Not a cloud in the sky. Numerous raptors floating overhead on their individual migrations. The leaves are changing here and the colors are just spectacular.<br><br>
The two of us at my house are ready and excited for this race. This is the first time we'll have run a race together. Well, not together - but the first race we'll share memories of together.<br><br>
The race is supposed to start at 11:10 with registration opening at 9. We load up the car with recycling (hey - nothin' wrong with making the most of the trip) and head out at 9:50. Take care of recycling, head to Korkki to sign in and pick up our numbers. The plan was to then head back home and change into running gear and head back.<br><br>
Signed in, got our shirts (nice to have pre-registered as they ran out of shirts later), learned that we'd be given a number when we crossed the finish line, saw some familiar faces and lots of friendly ones. This is going to be great.<br><br>
Go home, chat with the painters (who all smoke and think we are crazy for choosing to do this), change, grab a change of clothes and decide - let's go back! We're ready.<br><br>
There are 168 people who are running this race. Fabulous - some for the first time like us, and others who have run it for years.<br><br>
The race director calls us over to give the final words of wisdom. He announces there's good news and bad news. The good news is that it rained (and it really did, we've gotten well over 5 inches of rain this past week, most of it Thursday and Friday). This, of course, is also the bad news. <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/biggrin.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Very Happy"><br><br>
B and I are so ready for this. How cool to really be running the trails - crashing through streams, mud. . . at least all the hornets drowned in the rain. . .<br><br>
The race director tells us to get ready. B has a goal of an hour for the 6.6 miles. I line up at the very back. My goals are simple:<br><br>
1. Finish<br>
2. Run the whole way - and as this will be my longest run ever I'm going to be going slow and easy<br>
3. Leave nothing behind but footprints (I really want to keep my skin in one piece this time <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/smile.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Smile">)<br>
4. I did have a super secret time goal of 1:20.<br><br>
We start. The ground is soft, that takes a little getting used to. But hey - still cool. I'm happy to let people pass me - I'm findin' my pace. I know there are going to be hills and I really want to run the whole thing so I'm just runnin' my run.<br><br>
There is a lap around a field before we hit the woods. Families cheered the runners - some people camped before the race and there was a children's race before ours - talk about a great environment! There was even a cowbell! <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/biggrin.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Very Happy"><br><br>
Then, they funnel us into the woods. This is not a wide trail. Nor is it neatly maintained. This is a wild trail.<br><br>
The first stream we cross has no bridge. How freakin' cool is this? I splash through and up the opposite bank. Still running. Little uphill. . .I can do this.<br><br>
A nice slope down. . .mud at the bottom. . .I knew I was gonna get dirty. . .gentle slope up. . .<br><br>
and up. . .<br><br>
down. . .whew. . .<br><br>
Still running.<br><br>
I'm the only one around me. Which is beautiful. Wait, there's a girl with her dad. She passed me earlier, now is walking - her dad says, "we went out pretty fast at the start." What a great thing to do with your child.<br><br>
Top of the hill, I cannot catch my breath at all. Dang it. Now I'm walking. Going through all the usual things I say and I still can't get my breathing to calm down. I'm not panicking but I can't get a deep breath in and that bothers me.<br><br>
Okay, fine, not gonna run the whole thing, at least I'll run most of it.<br><br>
For every up, there is a down. There were a lot of ups. Every down had mud at the bottom. Not just a little mud. Some of it was really just dirty water and some of it was the kind of mud that just might pull off your shoe. The shallowest places were over my ankle. Twice it was up to my knees.<br><br>
I have no idea how far along the trail I am. There are no maps, only signs for different loops. I knew I was past the 4k turnoff because I was still running at that point. Then - a sign for the 6.5k turnoff.<br><br>
Oh. god.<br><br>
Then the 7k turn off and the pink ribbons show the path goes to the right for the 10k loop.<br><br>
I'm running the downhills but I'm walkin' the uphills.<br><br>
Then, I start walkin' the flats.<br><br>
Then, I start walkin' the downhills.<br><br>
My legs hurt. My chest hurts. My lungs hurt.<br><br>
I try to look around, it is gorgeous but I'm afraid to take my eyes off the path. I see colors but can't focus on them. If I could get the air, I'd be crying.<br><br>
I have never before felt despair on a run. Today I did.<br><br>
All I wanted to do was finish. In my head I changed the time from 1:20 to 1:30 to 2:00.<br><br>
Mud. Hills.<br><br>
Freakin' big hill.<br><br>
Ooooo down is nice.<br><br>
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me. That is no hill. It's a flippin' space station. No way. No way I can make it up that. Nope.<br><br>
One foot in front of the other. This is all I know how to do.<br><br>
One foot. I can't even count to two. It's just one at a time.<br><br>
I'm trying to stay positive. I'm trying to find something hopeful, but honestly, I'm feeling defeated. I thought I was a runner. Here I am walking this race. I'm no runner. I'm a quitter.<br><br>
Wait. I'm still moving forward. It may not be running but it isn't quitting.<br><br>
So this trail is harder than you thought it would be. So this trail is harder than pretty much anything else you can think of that you've ever done. So what. Did you train for this? No. If you did train for this do you think you could do it next year? Yes.<br><br>
Hmmmm.<br><br>
This thought keeps me going. (Okay, that thought and the knowledge that the only way I was gonna get home was by getting to the godforsaken finish line however the hell far-away THAT was.)<br><br>
Then, the path opened up. I saw a meadow and a woman. Oh. Thank. God.<br><br>
She claps and tells me it isn't much further. (By the way, having walked-I-have-no-idea-how-far, I AM running at this point. I was going to finish this race by running across the finish line.)<br><br>
I can see it. Excellent.<br><br>
B is there - he's yelling and taking pictures and I can see him smiling. People are clapping.<br><br>
I get my number - 152. I go inside. I give them the number and my name.<br><br>
All I want is water.<br><br>
There are no cups.<br><br>
This is not okay.<br><br>
I find B - he's talking with another runner, I tell him I need my water (I had some in the car but I wasn't going to make it to the car) and all of a sudden I start to cry.<br><br>
He looks at me, smiles, walks with me 3 paces over to the bag he's brought from the car, tells me, "shhhhh. . .you're okay. . . find your pace. You did great. I'm so proud of you - you finished strong and that was a hard trail." He hands me gatorade which we packed, smiles at me and says, "Darlin' it weren't pretty were it."<br><br>
My tears bubble to laughter as I look at myself. My legs are covered in mud - and I'm a sweaty mess on top of that. Nope, t'weren't pretty at all.<br><br>
I've never felt such an emotional extreme as with this race. Nor have I ever felt such a challenge as to come back and beat it.<br><br>
My final time for the race - 1:45:54.<br><br>
The lesson I've taken away from this one:<br><br>
If I quit, I am defeated and I didn't quit.
Although, B thinks I'm just being dramatic. <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/biggrin.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Very Happy"><br><br>
Bangin' in the Brush is an 11k trail run that happens north of Duluth at Korkki Nordic. Korkki is private land that has the prettiest cross-country ski trails ever. Every September, they have a trail run as a fundraiser - the first was 25 years ago to raise money to stop the sanitary district from putting a landfill next to the trails.<br><br>
There is no landfill there. <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/smile.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Smile"><br><br>
Today dawned beautifully. Not a cloud in the sky. Numerous raptors floating overhead on their individual migrations. The leaves are changing here and the colors are just spectacular.<br><br>
The two of us at my house are ready and excited for this race. This is the first time we'll have run a race together. Well, not together - but the first race we'll share memories of together.<br><br>
The race is supposed to start at 11:10 with registration opening at 9. We load up the car with recycling (hey - nothin' wrong with making the most of the trip) and head out at 9:50. Take care of recycling, head to Korkki to sign in and pick up our numbers. The plan was to then head back home and change into running gear and head back.<br><br>
Signed in, got our shirts (nice to have pre-registered as they ran out of shirts later), learned that we'd be given a number when we crossed the finish line, saw some familiar faces and lots of friendly ones. This is going to be great.<br><br>
Go home, chat with the painters (who all smoke and think we are crazy for choosing to do this), change, grab a change of clothes and decide - let's go back! We're ready.<br><br>
There are 168 people who are running this race. Fabulous - some for the first time like us, and others who have run it for years.<br><br>
The race director calls us over to give the final words of wisdom. He announces there's good news and bad news. The good news is that it rained (and it really did, we've gotten well over 5 inches of rain this past week, most of it Thursday and Friday). This, of course, is also the bad news. <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/biggrin.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Very Happy"><br><br>
B and I are so ready for this. How cool to really be running the trails - crashing through streams, mud. . . at least all the hornets drowned in the rain. . .<br><br>
The race director tells us to get ready. B has a goal of an hour for the 6.6 miles. I line up at the very back. My goals are simple:<br><br>
1. Finish<br>
2. Run the whole way - and as this will be my longest run ever I'm going to be going slow and easy<br>
3. Leave nothing behind but footprints (I really want to keep my skin in one piece this time <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/smile.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Smile">)<br>
4. I did have a super secret time goal of 1:20.<br><br>
We start. The ground is soft, that takes a little getting used to. But hey - still cool. I'm happy to let people pass me - I'm findin' my pace. I know there are going to be hills and I really want to run the whole thing so I'm just runnin' my run.<br><br>
There is a lap around a field before we hit the woods. Families cheered the runners - some people camped before the race and there was a children's race before ours - talk about a great environment! There was even a cowbell! <img alt="" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/forum/images/smilies/biggrin.gif" style="border:0px solid;" title="Very Happy"><br><br>
Then, they funnel us into the woods. This is not a wide trail. Nor is it neatly maintained. This is a wild trail.<br><br>
The first stream we cross has no bridge. How freakin' cool is this? I splash through and up the opposite bank. Still running. Little uphill. . .I can do this.<br><br>
A nice slope down. . .mud at the bottom. . .I knew I was gonna get dirty. . .gentle slope up. . .<br><br>
and up. . .<br><br>
down. . .whew. . .<br><br>
Still running.<br><br>
I'm the only one around me. Which is beautiful. Wait, there's a girl with her dad. She passed me earlier, now is walking - her dad says, "we went out pretty fast at the start." What a great thing to do with your child.<br><br>
Top of the hill, I cannot catch my breath at all. Dang it. Now I'm walking. Going through all the usual things I say and I still can't get my breathing to calm down. I'm not panicking but I can't get a deep breath in and that bothers me.<br><br>
Okay, fine, not gonna run the whole thing, at least I'll run most of it.<br><br>
For every up, there is a down. There were a lot of ups. Every down had mud at the bottom. Not just a little mud. Some of it was really just dirty water and some of it was the kind of mud that just might pull off your shoe. The shallowest places were over my ankle. Twice it was up to my knees.<br><br>
I have no idea how far along the trail I am. There are no maps, only signs for different loops. I knew I was past the 4k turnoff because I was still running at that point. Then - a sign for the 6.5k turnoff.<br><br>
Oh. god.<br><br>
Then the 7k turn off and the pink ribbons show the path goes to the right for the 10k loop.<br><br>
I'm running the downhills but I'm walkin' the uphills.<br><br>
Then, I start walkin' the flats.<br><br>
Then, I start walkin' the downhills.<br><br>
My legs hurt. My chest hurts. My lungs hurt.<br><br>
I try to look around, it is gorgeous but I'm afraid to take my eyes off the path. I see colors but can't focus on them. If I could get the air, I'd be crying.<br><br>
I have never before felt despair on a run. Today I did.<br><br>
All I wanted to do was finish. In my head I changed the time from 1:20 to 1:30 to 2:00.<br><br>
Mud. Hills.<br><br>
Freakin' big hill.<br><br>
Ooooo down is nice.<br><br>
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me. That is no hill. It's a flippin' space station. No way. No way I can make it up that. Nope.<br><br>
One foot in front of the other. This is all I know how to do.<br><br>
One foot. I can't even count to two. It's just one at a time.<br><br>
I'm trying to stay positive. I'm trying to find something hopeful, but honestly, I'm feeling defeated. I thought I was a runner. Here I am walking this race. I'm no runner. I'm a quitter.<br><br>
Wait. I'm still moving forward. It may not be running but it isn't quitting.<br><br>
So this trail is harder than you thought it would be. So this trail is harder than pretty much anything else you can think of that you've ever done. So what. Did you train for this? No. If you did train for this do you think you could do it next year? Yes.<br><br>
Hmmmm.<br><br>
This thought keeps me going. (Okay, that thought and the knowledge that the only way I was gonna get home was by getting to the godforsaken finish line however the hell far-away THAT was.)<br><br>
Then, the path opened up. I saw a meadow and a woman. Oh. Thank. God.<br><br>
She claps and tells me it isn't much further. (By the way, having walked-I-have-no-idea-how-far, I AM running at this point. I was going to finish this race by running across the finish line.)<br><br>
I can see it. Excellent.<br><br>
B is there - he's yelling and taking pictures and I can see him smiling. People are clapping.<br><br>
I get my number - 152. I go inside. I give them the number and my name.<br><br>
All I want is water.<br><br>
There are no cups.<br><br>
This is not okay.<br><br>
I find B - he's talking with another runner, I tell him I need my water (I had some in the car but I wasn't going to make it to the car) and all of a sudden I start to cry.<br><br>
He looks at me, smiles, walks with me 3 paces over to the bag he's brought from the car, tells me, "shhhhh. . .you're okay. . . find your pace. You did great. I'm so proud of you - you finished strong and that was a hard trail." He hands me gatorade which we packed, smiles at me and says, "Darlin' it weren't pretty were it."<br><br>
My tears bubble to laughter as I look at myself. My legs are covered in mud - and I'm a sweaty mess on top of that. Nope, t'weren't pretty at all.<br><br>
I've never felt such an emotional extreme as with this race. Nor have I ever felt such a challenge as to come back and beat it.<br><br>
My final time for the race - 1:45:54.<br><br>
The lesson I've taken away from this one:<br><br>
If I quit, I am defeated and I didn't quit.
