It was dark.  These fall evening runs get dark so fast.  I’d reached the turn around point at the south end of Pennoyer Park and was heading back south through Kennedy Park.  The dark requires a certain amount of vigilance, not so much for people, but for obstacles.  You learn to trust your peripheral (“periphial” as they say around here) vision.

I saw a shadow in the grass.  It wasn’t large, but it was moving along on a course to intercept me.  I tried to focus on it; was it a cat? Small, loose dog? A raccoon?  As we reached a bit of light, I saw my pursuer.

A fox.

I stopped.  The fox stopped.  I hissed at it, waving my arms.  I don’t know why, but hissing tends to work on most animals, scare them off.  This guy stepped back, then started slinking toward me.  I hissed again; same thing.  I charged the fox, growling, “get outta here!”  Again, he bounced away, only to creep back.

I was being hunted.

I started thinking about which leg I should let him go after, how painful the rabies shots would be.  I charged him again and he was still undeterred.  Finally, after what felt like several minutes, I managed to maneuver ahead of the fox on the bike path.  I started running backwards, keeping an eye on him until he was out of sight, and then I I turned around and sped up a bit.

My season is almost at a close.  I peaked at 28 miles in late September, only finishing thanks to Matt keeping me company from 15-25.  Tomorrow is the Big Thing.  My first ultramarathon, a 50k (31.07 miles).  Steve will finally run with me, unless something happens tonight.  In that case, I will run my race, then go to his house and kick his ass.

I’m looking forward to having some time back, to having the pressure lifted.  I know that no one is actually putting pressure on me, except for me, but I have the drive to push it, to see what I can do.

I recently considered trying to run every Wisconsin marathon in one year.  Then I learned that there were 18, not 5, and more than one weekend had multiple races (some even on the same day).

Maybe I’ll make that an “in my 30s” goal.

Comment on this post below

You must be logged in to post a comment.

You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.