I ran 8 miles yesterday morning and then again this morning. Both nights previous to the runs, I laid in bed and kept hearing the pounding of the rain pouring down outside my window and I felt nervous going out in it to run the trails in a downpour.
What will it be like? I worried.
It was amazing!
Jumping over crawling newts, loose rocks and mud puddles was surprisingly very exhilarating and it kept my mind focused on my safety other than running the distance.
Seeing people emerge in and out of thick fog banks was breath-taking.
Hearing the rain pouring down around me ... yet feeling protected overhead by much of the canopy of trees was comforting.
Running down a steep narrow trail with water rushing down it at the same time was exhilarating.
I fell once.
My toe hit the top edge of a boulder and I went down into a face plant. It happened so suddenly. I was running and then I wasn't. I rolled my tongue around and over my teeth for any chipped edges and I was relieved to find none, so I pulled myself back up and continued running. Funny what adrenalin does.... you don't feel anything, but your heart pounding. And then my legs picked myself back up and I continued on as if nothing had ever happened.
Stunning, beautiful views. Large ferns growing on the sides of the steep cliffs. Fog rising up the hill.
I worried if I fell down the cliff, would i bounce and roll down to the bottom? Or could i break my fall, by grabbing hold of a limb or tall grass. I tried not to think of those scenarios, but once you fall... you realize how easy it is to slip like that. So I moved closer to the upside of the hill as I weaved my way down to the bottom of the mountain.
Such a feat. Such a huge accomplishment for me.
I really feel proud of myself for pushing myself to do this. Because I know only too well.. how easy it would have been both mornings to turn off the alarm and cover my face under the blanket and sleep a couple of hours more...
Always before we run in those early mornings, the coaches give us a pep talk before we begin...