I’ve mentioned it before, so I probably sound like a broken record to some degree.  But I am, again and again, amazed by my improvement, even from one week to the next.  Two weeks ago, I wrote about Matt and I running the XC trails at Parkside.  Our first three 5 milers were pretty consistent, within just a few minutes of each other.  After Matt left, however, the sudden company vacuum seemed to drain me of energy.  I did a lot of walking that last five miles.

Last weekend, I went back to the trails again. The schedule called for 16 miles, so I planned to run the 10k course (6.2 miles) and two 8k’s (5 miles each).  I’ve only run the 10k a few times and never really enjoyed it.  This day, however, it seemed a lot more fun.  In addition, the trail was flooded from the last snow and a couple days of rain.  There was mud, standing water, flowing creeks, and one small pond, about twenty feet long and several inches deep.  I gingerly picked my way through the first round, but got soaked and muddy anyway.

After finishing the first 10k, I decided to run it twice more.  You know, get a few extra miles out of it.  Round 2, as I approached the pond, two older guys were walking up the trail.  One called out to me, “the best way is just to run straight through the middle!”  I replied back, “I know, this is my second time through!”  Then I surprised both of them by barreling right down the middle, water filling my shoes and splashing up to my thighs.  I could hear their laughter as I went on.

The final 10k was a grinder.  My muscles were exhausted and my hips were starting to disagree with my plans.  Most of the uphills were walked.  Eventually, I finished.  The mud and water that inundated my shoes had created hotspots - pre-blister areas - on my right big toe and right inner arch.  They were tender, but didn’t actually blister.  But there it was.  18.6 more miles into the record.

Now, my first marathon is a road race, so some might question why I choose to do my long runs on trails.  The XC course provides hills, so I’m not always running easy flats, and it’s free of stop lights, curbs, and traffic.  And, perhaps, most importantly, there is the “feel” of the course.  It’s a place meant for running. Simply stepping onto the Killing Field is like some chemical change.  My brain is switched to running mode in a way that streets and sidewalks can never do.

Today was my last “long” run, another 20.  “Long” these days really only applies to 14-milers and up.  Sick, I know.   I decided that instead of just running a quartet of 8k’s, I would first wipe myself out on 10 miles of hill repeats.  The first half mile of the course is split into what I affectionately call the Killing Field and The Hill.  The Hill rises about 80 feet in steep jumps over the second quarter mile.  For the repeats, I would run to the top of The Hill, turn around, and run back to the start line.  That’s one mile.  Repeat for a total of ten.

After six, it was getting clear that my week-old hotspot hadn’t gone away.  My cherished Asics 2130 Trails had well over 300 miles on them and were no longer the snug clean fit they once were.  Throw in a bad pair of socks and a bunch of grit, and there you go.  Blister time.

My original plan was to do 10 repeats, run an 8k in my shoes, and another 8k in my Vibram fivefinger KSO’s.  After the repeats, though, I knew I couldn’t stay in my shoes.  I switched to the KSO’s, noting the nice blister on my arch and another on the side of my big toe.  Faaantastic.  I slipped my bare feet into the KSO’s and hit the start line.  I’d only ever run 2 miles in them before, and it was on pavement, so my results weren’t the greatest.

Within a handful of meters, I was giggling in my head.  The grass and soft earth were cool on my feet.  Hard, dry ground was a little more jarring, but I was amazed at just how GREAT I felt.  Sure, I was tired, but it felt like a completely separate run.  Even the gravel sections weren’t that bad. And in the mud, I laughed, wondering what a walker would think seeing what looked like bare foot prints.

And you know what?  Not another twinge from the blisters.

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