I pop a Shok Blok sublingual, hoping for maximum absorption. My brain is screaming at my muscles to hurry up and make the switch from glycogen usage to fat metabolism. In basic terms, I'm only an hour into my long run and I'm hurtin' bad. Hurtin' real bad. With less than 6 weeks to the 50K, this shouldn't be happening so early into a long run. Then words spoken to me over the weekend ring through my slogging brain. "Oh, you're going to Albuquerque for a trail run? That'll be good altitude training." Suddenly I realize how I underestimated the wisdom of the statement at the time. Altitude. That's it, it's all altitude. Grateful for an excuse, however weak it may be, I take a break from thinking less-than-cheerful thoughts about Jana, my co-runner in the upcoming race, wondering why she agreed to sign up with me. I'm not even going to begin to describe the sadistically evil plots of revenge I orchestrate for my boss, who convinced me this race would be a fun one to sign up for in the first place.
All typical runners' complaints aside, however, I fell in love with the trails at the Sandia Foothills just east of downtown Albuquerque. This was just a quick day trip, another destination checked off my list before April 10th. Standing at the base of the foothills, the view of high desert town is somewhat like a lion or a great white shark. Beautiful in a mysteriously majestic way, but best admired at a distance. The drive from the airport out to the trailhead was bleak, with squat, colorless buildings blending into the monochromatic landscape. It was difficult not to draw unfavorable comparisons with San Diego, where I had taken a quick walk over to Harbor Island between plane changes earlier this morning. But the trails winding through the Sandia Foothills were worth the 5 a.m. wakeup time to catch the flight. A lot of trail variety, beautiful sunshine, a little bit of snow in the shadows, and 10 miles went by all too quickly. Of course, a little Green Day and Blink 182 on the iPod helped on the last 4 miles. And I'm proud to say that I only got lost once. Me, the blonde who inspired all directionally-challenged blonde jokes. Being lost out on these inspiring trails, though, was worth every additional stride I had to take to get back to my rental car.
All typical runners' complaints aside, however, I fell in love with the trails at the Sandia Foothills just east of downtown Albuquerque. This was just a quick day trip, another destination checked off my list before April 10th. Standing at the base of the foothills, the view of high desert town is somewhat like a lion or a great white shark. Beautiful in a mysteriously majestic way, but best admired at a distance. The drive from the airport out to the trailhead was bleak, with squat, colorless buildings blending into the monochromatic landscape. It was difficult not to draw unfavorable comparisons with San Diego, where I had taken a quick walk over to Harbor Island between plane changes earlier this morning. But the trails winding through the Sandia Foothills were worth the 5 a.m. wakeup time to catch the flight. A lot of trail variety, beautiful sunshine, a little bit of snow in the shadows, and 10 miles went by all too quickly. Of course, a little Green Day and Blink 182 on the iPod helped on the last 4 miles. And I'm proud to say that I only got lost once. Me, the blonde who inspired all directionally-challenged blonde jokes. Being lost out on these inspiring trails, though, was worth every additional stride I had to take to get back to my rental car.
2 comments:
I love your writing, iron girl...the way you describe the drive from the airport. Lovely!
Good stuff, girl! Wish I could have been there with you (although, I probably would have been just another one of the many casualties that have fallen prey to your infamous curse...again)! I think you may kick my butt this weekend on the trails...
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