CrossTimbers ½
Feb 24, 2007
Sylvia Pas
For your reading pleasure.
Trailing thoughts...
The brave and crazy 50milers have left at 6:30am while it was
still dark and weather ominously questionable.
Thirty minutes later, the marathon and half marathon race starts
off on the road leading out of the parking lot. The first half mile is already
a steep uphill and most of us walk up. The trail goes off the road and we're
off into the trees. It is now raining lightly
but it's
comfortable. As usual, I'm in the back of the pack. This late in the winter,
all the leaves on the ground are brown. So are the roots and rocks. This should
be interesting.
I haven't run Cross Timbers before but I've heard the stories.
It is. The leaves hide it all. The trail itself is narrow with not
much room for footing error. There are short but steep hills which we stair
step up and down using big rocks and tangled roots. Whenever I have a risky
second, I look up from watching the ground to
admire the woods. It
is quiet except when I hear runners encounter one another. Almost everyone I
meet has an encouraging word and a "good job, you're looking strong".
This is a friendly bunch. The trail is twisty enough that I don't see anyone
until all of sudden they're just there, appearing out of the trees.
While I'm still in a small group with some runners behind me, I do
a "save" which is an almost fall. I hear someone behind me
congratulate me on my grace.
They haven't seen my jetstream arms
anxiously trying to keep my balance before. I'm too out of breath to reply that
I have a lot more fancy moves. I'm also wary of tempting fate. Miraculously,
that is the only "save" probably because the big rocks and roots
become
easier to see as we
go down the trail. We cross several small streams. I've noticed over time that I've
gotten more daring going downhill, jumping off roots onto loose rocks. This is
a risk and reward strategy - go safer but slower or faster and risk crashing.
Often as I run through the few flat dirt paths, I expect to see a
native Indian silently step out from behind a tree and then seconds later see a
deer bound off into the woods. It is that quiet and isolated. I see small
spring plants starting to turn green, patches of bright green moss, and
footsteps of the runners before me in the mud and dirt. The soil is a
brown sandy clay,
the trees oak and cedar. The rain the night before and during the early morning
has left muddy patches. I carry dirt under my shoes for the first few miles.
These woods will be spacious and green in the spring.
Three hours and forty minutes later I finish my little half
marathon and am thankful that I'm not going back out for the second loop of the
full marathon. My quads are tired and sore from the up and down. This is a wonderful
race but I'm glad to be done. I recommend it to all my running buddies who
didn't come with me today. The volunteers have done a great job putting out all
kinds of goodies. There are burgers, veggie and not, grilling with home-made
cookies and brownies.
A big thanks to Antje. These trail runners really know how to do things
right.