That whooping sound you heard (Read 727 times)

Went away for a long weekend, a reunion with a bunch of college friends, all staying at a ranch-type place up at the end of the road in some Southern California hills, with assorted SO's, kids, mojitos, etc. It should have been a lot of fun, and, mostly, it was, but it was not without its drama. [long boring story here] I had brought my trail running shoes, so on Saturday morning at 6:30, I headed out into the hills, sleepy, hungover, PMSing, and generally feeling inexcusably sorry for myself. And my motives were perhaps not the purest: mostly I was motivated by a desire to wander into the kitchen at the group house later and casually start sentences saying "well, when I was on my run up the canyon this morning . . . ." The run was awesome. The hills were beautiful, animals abounded, and it was still cool in the shade. The trail I ended up on for most of the run threaded up a stream, and it was slow going with rocky creek crossings every couple of hundred yards. I was going up a canyon, but it felt mostly flat, until I turned around and started back down. Then, it felt like flying. I splashed through the water, I jumped over rocks, and I dodged around trees. All alone in that canyon, running down the trail, I whooped. The weekend got better after that, even though I did mostly keep my mouth shut about the run. Had to tell someone though. And, can I also mention here: July was my first 100 mile month.

Oh WOW! That sounds wonderful - like a dream run. And congrats on the 100 month. Isn't it fabulous to have the "escape" of running - in this case, literally?

Wow Anne - that sounds great! And congrats on 100 miles in July!