Oxford Dam Trail Run - Saturday, August 9, 2009 - 10 miles...or so they said...
(or, "that damn Oxford Trail Run")

I was nervous. So nervous I didn't even want to talk about it, and I regretted letting other people know I was planning to do it, because then if it turned out to be a miserable run, I'd have to relive the misery by telling everyone just HOW bad it was. But on the contrary, it was great. Stupendous. Exhilirating. Amazing. Incredible. Empowering. Awesome. Beautiful. Prayerful, meditative, challenging, grueling. It beat me up and then lifted me back up. It was the longest trail run I've ever done, and I DID IT.

After a soy latte, a bagel and the Saturday paper, I left my apartment around 7am. Good thing I took directions, because my GPS proved useless and started sending me to Oxford, Rhode Island. The whole drive out there I kept wondering, what the hell am I doing? What gave me the crazy idea that I can do this? Why am I voluntarily subjecting myself to a beat-down on this otherwise beautiful Saturday morning?

I got to the race, parked, and picked up my number (not a number, actually, but my name on a flourescent sticker). No sign of Christine and I didn't know anyone and, surrounded by gazelle-like runners, I felt nervous once again. But soon enough I recognized someone in the small crowd, Christine called to say she was on her way, and I met a 65 year old woman from Beacon Hill who just started running and looked so positively happy to be preparing for a run in the woods that I couldn't help but absorb some of her enthusiasm. I CAN DO THIS, I told myself. It's just a run in the woods on a sunny Saturday morning - no pressure, no world records, and hopefully no chafing. Just me, my ziploc bag of gummy bears, and 10.5 glorious miles of dirt.

We started, and off we went, down a rocky hill and into the woods. The small crowd thinned out and I stayed at the back, a place I've come to feel comfortable. There was a little chit chat and then that was it, I was alone with my thoughts, running through the woods, breathing, reminding myself to enjoy this adventure, reminding myself to breathe, reminding myself to have fun.

It was probably one of the hardest runs I've ever done. I slipped in a mud puddle before mile 2, lost my balance twice when I tripped over rocks and roots, and just about ate gravel when I somehow went airborne and then landed flat on my side with a big 'THUMP'. But that was just the beginning of the fun - the runners ahead of me lost the trail markings, so we ran a mile off course, and as luck would have it, that mile was STRAIGHT uphill - a rocky, craggy, boulder-laden hill. We all ran (okay, it was hardly running....more like delicate scooting) back down, found the trail and kept on going. We slogged across an ankle-deep stream, which I thought was the one the race director mentioned at the start. Turns out the one he was actually talking about was thigh-high and about 20 feet wide. And yes, the only way across it is through it (kind of like challenging situations in life...what can I say, I get contemplative when I run). After slipping in the mud and falling in the gravel, wading across a stream was kind of refreshing and much less miserable than I anticipated. The water was crystal-clear, and it felt cold and clean as it washed away the mud and grime and sweat on my legs.

The next few miles I listened to the squish-squish of water in my shoes. The woods were quiet, and at times I was alone. I ran through meadows and gullies, along wooded paths, and up rocky, root-covered paths no wider than my two feet. I dodged branches and sticks. There was only the sound of my breathing, my feet softly pounding the dirt, and the occasional rustle of leaves. The air felt clean as I inhaled and exhaled, and I drank in the purity of the environment.

I was tempted to take my ipod on the run because I knew it would be long and tough, but I left it in the car and let my mind wander. That much time alone with one's thoughts can be unsettling, but today it had a calming and cleansing effect. So many things were weighing heavy on my mind this week. I had been upset and irritated and stressed about different things. But after several miles everything seemed just about manageable; everything would be fine. I was completely absorbed by the exhiliration of running and the meditative silence of the woods. I let my thoughts come in to my mind and roll around for a while, and then I let them go. Before long, I felt renewed. And after ten miles, I felt like one hell of a badass.

I didn't need to walk as much as I expected, and I actually enjoyed the run. I mean REALLY ENJOYED it. When I was tempted to listen to my inner bitching and moaning, I thought, hell, no one forced me to sign up for this...why not just enjoy it and have fun? I smiled, I sang to myself, I hummed. I ran my own pace, ran my own race, and enjoyed it. I let myself find my speed and my 'zone', and I was really happy there.

I kept running through/over/around the rocks, roots, mushrooms, stumps, branches, gravel, mud, trees, streams, and puddles. I just kept running and eventually came to a point where I knew I had to be near the finish. I ran out of the woods and through the chute, and that was it. 11.5 miles of dirt and sweat and sun, 2+ hours, 1 bag of gummi bears, and all before noontime. Is there another trail run next weekend?