On Friday JFW goes: “Anyone fancy a long trail run on Sunday am?? Could head out to the hills”
I answered: “I'm tempted. How would that work? Where? When? For how long?”
I got this response: “Great - I’ll pick you up at 8.30….”
(I agree with you if you think that is not how communication between two people actually works but my English is not that great so what do I know)
On Saturday, yesterday, JFW clarified: “2-3 hours steady around polesden lacy - cross trainers best if possible?”
Here is the thing. This was going to be my first trail run, I don’t have cross trainers, I have never run for that long, I have no clue what or where “polesden lacy” is and I still answered: “Ok. I'm in”. I don’t really know why.
Move forward to today. At 8:22 JFW sent me a message (“Am outside”). It is pissing rain outside but I can’t bail now so I come out and get in the car.
We got to Effingham, got out of the car and in 30 seconds we were running.
The run was ok at the beginning. Apart from the fact that I was running on hiking shoes (Salomon X BRAZE), I wasn’t carrying any water and I had no idea for how long we were going to keep running. But we were chatting and I was having a great time.
Things got a bit tricker when JFW said “right, we are now heading back”.
Wait, what???
I don’t have a running watch so I can’t tell for sure but it certainly felt like we had been running for ages. I was getting tired.
And thirsty.
But I was still feeling ok(ish) so didn’t complain and just kept running behind him. Although we were not chatting that much anymore.
At some point we saw one of those mobile coffee vans. JFW suggested a stop to drink something. We had been running for so long that I guessed we were close to the car so I suggested we should keep running. The fear of not being able to start running again after a stop was much more powerful than how thirsty I felt (and I already played with the idea of drinking out of a puddle).
Right, he said, three more miles (that is almost 5 more kilometers for the rest of us). Turns out I had guessed incorrectly how far we were from the car.
So now JFW is doing all the talking. I run in silence. Feeling tired, very, very thirsty and the blisters in my feet growing. Not really in the right mindset to hear JFW saying “Let’s take this trail. I always wanted to learn where it goes”.
I still followed him. Uphill. Without saying a word (I couldn’t speak. Not even to ask for water).
We kept running for what felt like an eternity and suddenly JFW said “Well, it is now a long downhill to the car”.
THAT. That is what I needed to hear.
Not that I was thinking of sprinting or anything like that. I wish I would have been able to think about sprinting and winning this “race” but my thoughts were all about how tired I was, how big my blisters were going to be and how hard it would be to walk tomorrow (I knew I had a 1 liter bottle of water in the car so thirst was not a worry anymore).
So, here I am. Back home. After a shower, lunch and a siesta. Thinking I had a fantastic time.
Such a great time that I find myself asking life changing, philosophical questions.
Will I be able to ever walk normally again?
Who decided to build the toilet upstairs in my house? I need to talk to that person.
What 100 miles (more than 160 km) trail run should I enter next year?
What is the world record for the size of a blister? Asking for a friend.
The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/12474081248
Take care of yourself
Javier Arias González