It's overcast and cool outside at the moment, something that we Valley dwellers don't take for granted. I'm sucking down my 3rd cup of decaf (6 months caffeine-free. Woohoo.) and taking in the wondrous, grey skies above our roof in jeans and a long-sleeved baseball tshirt. Normally at this point in the day, I'd be naked infront of the A.C., still sweating my nuts off.
Yesterday I trekked out to Topanga Canyon, where I tend to do a lot of my big trail runs, and the weather was pretty much the same. I parked at the trailhead where I enter up a small fireroad, one steep motherfucker (probably 6% grade), grabbed my hand-held water bottle, tossed on my sunglasses and headed up.
I traversed one of my favorite, single line trails and popped out at an area where I normally turn around, but instead of doing the norm, I decided to venture past the small guard shack down the small driveway. I discovered (and feeling much like an idiot for not ever venturing this way before) the main trailhead to the state park. I refilled my water bottle, took a bathroom break, and headed up the large, dusty horsetrails.
It was a great run. Much of it was a climb, but I never once took a walk break. My legs felt strong, my breath steady, the sun was pouring itself over the hills and valleys all around me, and I really realized why trail runs appeal to me so much. It's that oneness with yourself and nature. Unlike street running, you can allow yourself to stop and look around, take it in, and be connected to the earth. Filled with these thoughts, I decided it was time to head back since it would be another hour before I'd reach my car.
Running down the hill, I saw several deer prance off into the woods. Breathtaking. As I continued, I saw a large bee coming towards me, circling and looping straight at my face. Without enough time to react, the little bastard hit the lower part of my left sunglass lense and got trapped underneath, between my cheek and the lense! I felt the stinger hit my cheek and ripped off my glasses, smashing them beneath my feet, clawing at the buzzing little fucker. Wincing, I picked up my shattered sunglasses and trudged forth. I felt my cheek swelling like an 8th grade boy's pants at a pep rally. FUCK. I still had 45 minutes before I was back at the car.
I pressed on, laughing at the bizarre circumstance. About 20 minutes from home base, I got to a narrower part of the trail, where the tree roots pop up in scattered zig-zag patterns. I lept over one, lept another, lept a third...and caught my rear toe on the root. This sent me careening forward headfirst onto the dusy trail. Instinctively, I barely impacted my hands and rolled onto my right shoulder. Genius, no? Well, no. The momentum carried me off the trail and sent me rolling down a ravine! I probably only traveled 10 feet or so, thanks to the pricker bushes that were there to break my fall.
So now I stood, covered in dirt, blood, wearing a swollen, bee-stug cheek, completely coated in pricker bush brambles and branches, knowing I still had another 15 minutes to get back to my car. I passed what seemed like 500 hikers along the way, each one of them averting their eyes to the approaching mess that was me. When I got home, after icing my knees, I jumped in the shower only to discover more brambles stuck to the inside of my ears.
What's saddest of all?
I love it.
Yesterday I trekked out to Topanga Canyon, where I tend to do a lot of my big trail runs, and the weather was pretty much the same. I parked at the trailhead where I enter up a small fireroad, one steep motherfucker (probably 6% grade), grabbed my hand-held water bottle, tossed on my sunglasses and headed up.
I traversed one of my favorite, single line trails and popped out at an area where I normally turn around, but instead of doing the norm, I decided to venture past the small guard shack down the small driveway. I discovered (and feeling much like an idiot for not ever venturing this way before) the main trailhead to the state park. I refilled my water bottle, took a bathroom break, and headed up the large, dusty horsetrails.
It was a great run. Much of it was a climb, but I never once took a walk break. My legs felt strong, my breath steady, the sun was pouring itself over the hills and valleys all around me, and I really realized why trail runs appeal to me so much. It's that oneness with yourself and nature. Unlike street running, you can allow yourself to stop and look around, take it in, and be connected to the earth. Filled with these thoughts, I decided it was time to head back since it would be another hour before I'd reach my car.
Running down the hill, I saw several deer prance off into the woods. Breathtaking. As I continued, I saw a large bee coming towards me, circling and looping straight at my face. Without enough time to react, the little bastard hit the lower part of my left sunglass lense and got trapped underneath, between my cheek and the lense! I felt the stinger hit my cheek and ripped off my glasses, smashing them beneath my feet, clawing at the buzzing little fucker. Wincing, I picked up my shattered sunglasses and trudged forth. I felt my cheek swelling like an 8th grade boy's pants at a pep rally. FUCK. I still had 45 minutes before I was back at the car.
I pressed on, laughing at the bizarre circumstance. About 20 minutes from home base, I got to a narrower part of the trail, where the tree roots pop up in scattered zig-zag patterns. I lept over one, lept another, lept a third...and caught my rear toe on the root. This sent me careening forward headfirst onto the dusy trail. Instinctively, I barely impacted my hands and rolled onto my right shoulder. Genius, no? Well, no. The momentum carried me off the trail and sent me rolling down a ravine! I probably only traveled 10 feet or so, thanks to the pricker bushes that were there to break my fall.
So now I stood, covered in dirt, blood, wearing a swollen, bee-stug cheek, completely coated in pricker bush brambles and branches, knowing I still had another 15 minutes to get back to my car. I passed what seemed like 500 hikers along the way, each one of them averting their eyes to the approaching mess that was me. When I got home, after icing my knees, I jumped in the shower only to discover more brambles stuck to the inside of my ears.
What's saddest of all?
I love it.
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