If a runner falls in the woods and his friends do not see it, is it still funny?
Every morning a mountain runner wakes up and thinks that, “If I can not out run the slowest most pathetic mountain goat I may very well starve.” - Enrico Mazzola, Famous Italian mountain runner, 1858 to 1906
Every morning a pathetic old mountain goat thinks that if that Mazzola guy chases me again, and I do not laugh my ass off, I will definitely live to see another day. - Pathetic Italian mountain goat, 1891-1908.
It is a little after 9:00AM and I at the base of the Seven Sisters Trail head. I can feel the wind through my fleece top. My hands are cold. Donna and her long running crew are running away from me and I should be starting my run from Mt. Holyoke if I want to meet up with them. I head out anyway and think that I will have a great trail run. I have two hours to run, and I will be running alone.
Up to Bare mountain. Where are my lungs? Halfway up the trail I am running hard and breathing harder. I am not cold any more, but I am weezing. This is bad. I get over the top and start down the trail on the other side. The rocks are a challenge but the combination of ice and leaves makes for an interesting experience. Soon I am moving on one leg sliding down the mountain. I look like I am trying for a triple lutz, but instead I complete a quadruple klutz. Wham. I am down.
I am back up again and sliding again. Wham. Down again. I have fallen and I can't get up. Back up, and I am running with a great deal of caution. Running is stretch, but I am moving. It helps to be able to laugh at one's self when sliding down the rock formations that pass barely for a runnable trail.
The trail is beautiful in its openness. It is quiet and empty , and I am amazed that some one could run this multiple times. Scrambling over the rocks and attempting run the brief level stretches is a work out. Exactly one hour I am facing starvation, and considering eating my thumbs. But waite I have energy beans, “Thanks Carrie!” Recharged with energy beans I head back to the notch.
At one point I lose the white trail markers, and find my self on the side of hill, obviously off the trail. It seems like I should go left, but the GPS says the trail is a short distance to the right. I go right and find the trail.
The run back is as slow as the run out. One hour out, and one hour back. 5.3 miles at 23:30 pace. I feel like I ran far and hard. The thought of running the whole Seven Sisters multiple times leaves me in admiration for those who can. The leaves, ice, and extreme terrain made this an especially difficult run.
Keep your feet on the road
- Mark
