I need to eat my words

For years, my brother, who’s a real runner, has been telling me that if I started running I’d get hooked and dive in head over heels. I guess he’s had the benefit of seeing me do it with all the other sports and activities I’ve done throughout my life.

“Sure man, I could mmaaaayyybbbee run a half marathon with you,” I surmised...for years...

“Once you run a half you’re going to see all those people doing the full and you’re going to want to do it.”

Yeah. So. He was kind of, a little bit, maybe, right.

Starting last spring I started to run a bit more than usual, which really had just been some mid-week activity for me to do in between weekend (adult league) soccer games.

Long runs went from 5-6 miles to 8. Once a week became two or three times a week. Nikes became New Balance. Mizuno trail shoes showed up to keep them company.  One trail race sign up suddenly spawned another and then was followed by two half marathons in three weeks, one which we ran together in our hometown.

But growing up and travelling, camping and backpacking in some of the most beautiful places in North America, trail running just feels better than any street ever will. I can’t wax poetic about it, it just feels better.

So, now I’m training for some longer trail runs which definitely will push me far harder than any other physical endeavor ever has.

Consider my words fully devoured, please.

Training is in full swing (sort of…). There are energy gels and chews in the cupboard (is it taboo to admit? Or maybe it’s the Body Glide that is off limits…), ice packs in the freezer and Pacific Northwest dirt and mud in the trunk of my car.

Here goes nothing…