Left early to pick up two friends in South Boston. Got kind of lost on the way there. We finally hit 93N and headed to Stoneham. Got there with plenty of time to spare, picked up our numbers (computer-printed cards with our name, age, and a funny quote about trail running), congregated in a scrubby looking parking lot by the trail head, and at precisely 8:00 a.m., off we went.
Today was a hard but awesome run. Perfect temp - I didn't feel over or underdressed. The crisp air felt just right, and the dark clouds held out long enough that we barely felt a breeze rustle through the trees, though snow and rain were forecasted. Last week's run hurt, plain and simple. I was finished running about three miles before the race actually ended. But today -today!! - what a difference a week makes. I felt good. I felt strong and I settled into a rhythm pretty quickly. Not a fast pace, but a comfortable speed that would get me to the finish line.
Two things helped.
One: a nice pace group. A few loudmouths who felt compelled to yap the entire run, but otherwise a nice crew around me. I didn't get passed by a ton of people, so that felt great. I have found that in races past, as soon as I start getting passed by hordes of runners, I am mentally finished. I spiral down the "I'm so slow, a guy with a babyjogger is passing me!" course, and my running confidence suffers the consequences. I know, I know. Run my own race. And that is my mantra, but getting passed by scores of people does make a person feel a little on the pokey side.
Two: No mileage markers! This was freakin' awesome! Not knowing where I was or how far I'd run was fantastic. None of those "oo, I must have done seven miles by now! What?? Only two?" moments. None of that "three down, five to go!". Not paying attention to mile markers allowed me a freedom I don't think I have felt before in a trail run. It was glorious. All I had to do this morning was go out there and enjoy my run. As far as trail running goes, ignorance really is bliss.
The no mile markers thing got me to thinking. As much as I need, value and retrospectively depend on milestones in my life, there is something to be said for not always seeing them along the way. Awareness of transitions or turning points can be helpful as we move through life, make decisions and choices, and go where we need to go, but there is something to be said for just focusing on the scenery, breathing in and out, and trying not to trip. There is something to be said for running through the woods without a map, without a distance gage, and really, without a clue. Sometime I am so hung up on taking stock of where I am and what I'm doing and how far I have come and how far I have to go that I miss the beauty of where I am. I am thinking about the finish line when there's a whole lotta pretty scenery before I get there. There's a start, and there'll be a finish. The territory in between is simply there for the running, some of it hard, some of it harder, none of it easy, but all of it pretty darn sweet. Such is life, no?
There were moments during the run this morning when I could feel blisters forming on my feet or when I felt a little winded, but all in all this run really rocked. Why? 'Cause I enjoyed it. And such should be life.