Honey, is it supposed to hurt this much??

My husband and I are running in the Bear Creek ten mile trail run this next weekend I think it is. We haven't been doing any really heavy training, especially with Thanksgiving being this past week. So when Brad was invited by Jim, a really nifty guy, with a fabulous wife, to join a group of people trail running this weekend Brad said we'd be there. We were running trails in downtown Richmond. Jim had a route set up along the North bank trail, across the Nickel bridge (which actually costs like 35 cents to cross anymore but no one is willing to change the name to reflect the increase)the Buttermilk trail and across Belle Isle (which I swear you can feel the spirits of the people who died there in that Confederate Prison camp). It's neat running in downtown, you get completely swallowed up by the trails, the trees, the foliage, and suddenly you aren't downtown, in a city, at least in your mind anymore. It is really something.

Trail running is fun, and totally different from running on the road. You are so busy trying to stay vertical, and not trip over something, at least I am anyway, that it takes your mind off of the fact that you are running.

When we started running this morning, it was a nice pace. We were looping around, going back and forth, this way and that. It felt we kept going from point A to point B and back again. Indecision is an awful thing! But foraged on we did until the pack started to break apart and I felt like we were actually running somewhere and not stuck on a treadmill from hell. You had the speedy guys, running like we were on a flat surface, you had some runners just a bit behind them, and those of us who were the caboose on this train. After the first two or so miles, the lead pack waited for the rest of us to get there. Then we started up again, part on the road, about a mile or so, then back to the trails. We were all trotting along happily, and over the misleadingly named Nickel bridge, which reminded me eerily of the 59th St. bridge during the marathon, it's all uphill I swear. After the top of the hill, we looped around and back to the trails. Again, we broke into the groups and started speeding up and down the hills of the trails. Then it happened. Someone in my group fell. A really, really nice woman named Jan. I liked her a lot when I met her this morning. Anyway, she bit it big and went down. We all stopped to help her, but she waved us off and told us she was fine, only her pride was hurt. So we loped along again. It was pretty treacherous and I wondered how people mountain biked the trails. I would have been flying off of the cliffs, crashing as I hit the huge rocks and chunks of concrete, but these trails are really cool and makes me wish I could ride my mountain bike well, but I digress. Where was I, oh yeah, we were all running along after Jan fell, we hit a particularly steep down hill, all covered with leaves and then the next thing you know Craig, another super nice guy we ran with, wiped out. If you have never seen a person who is 6 foot, 8 inches tall fall, it is something. It was a jangle of arms, legs and wham. So we all stopped to make sure he was okay, which he was. Besides a bruised ego, he had a cut knee. Okay, we finally meet up with the rest of the crew. Jim was kind enough to have a rest station set up for us at mile 5. He had Gatorade for us, which was really so nice, but that's what you'd expect from him. Did I mention he is genuinely nice guy?? If you're reading this Jim, you are you know!! It was at this point I decided I had to use the restroom. As luck would have it, there was a Port-O-Potty. I went to it, blessed it with a giant sign of the cross to drive out any demons of grossness I could, held my breath, and went it. Grandma Tav would have been proud, I put toilet paper on the seat so if I accidentally touched it while I hovered, I wouldn't get germs. Now if I just had that giant purse of hers with the stolen packets of sugar and wet naps in it to wash my hands with, I would have been set! Okay, back to the run.

We take off again except we split into two groups. One group, the smart group, the group with my fellow fallees, went on the road trail. Me, I hadn't fallen yet, so I didn't think anything of saying, I'll keep with the trails and my husband. Trot, trot, trot, look at me. I am keeping up with the big boys, trot, trot, trot. Brad kept turning around to talk to me. It was nice, like when we run on the road together. As we started to go up a hill that was peppered with rocks and roots, it happened. *Insert the music from Psycho here* I'm going down, I tripped over a root, but this other root is sticking out like a spear, and I am coming down on it. Thankfully it was more horizontal then vertical. But I thought I impaled myself right through my left boob. That hurt and I grabbed at that root and my boob, but wait, I wasn't finished falling yet, duh. KABLAM!!!!!! *insert Flintstone style bonk here* Hold on a second, if my hands are grabbing my boob, what's breaking my fall????? My face of course!!! As I lay there and pondered the meaning of life, the mathematical substance behind the theory of relativity, the space time continuum, my husband is standing over me trying to make sure I am alive. Here come two other trail runners, inquiring as to my status. I hear myself say I am okay. But I swear I feel like someone else is saying it on my behalf. Brad runs to catch up with the rest of the group after making sure I didn't split my head open, which it felt like I did, to tell them what happened. I, on sort of wobbly legs and an ever spinning head, start walking and wiping off the dirt from my face. Thankfully there's no blood, but enough swelling underneath and on top of my eye that I am catching it with my peripheral vision. I get to the group and everyone looks at me with gaping mouths. Yep, I must look good. So they go on ahead and Brad and I let me walk for awhile, getting my legs underneath me. We walked about a half mile, and started to run again. We ran across Belle Isle, feeling the tortured spirits around me, and to the parking lot. Jan was there still, the road group beat us back. I told her I fell for her because she actually fell twice while we ran and I felt badly for her. It was the least I could do.

I got in the car and viewed the damage. Yikes, I look like I have been in a fist fight, yeah but you should see what the other guy looks like...Hahaha. That's when I quipped, Honey, is it supposed to hurt this much, to myself. Hey, I wasn't going to be the best at anything today, I might as well be the best out of everyone who fell. And that I was, no one even came close to the damage I did.

Listen up Jim, I am not wearing a helmet next week. If I can do this sort or damage today just training, I am really looking forward to what I can do next week!! A personal worst and bodily harm, wow, how can I refuse??