Stop Time: Gallivant through Luscious Forest

All this rugged trail running is making me tough and leathery.  I feel stronger.  Gettin’ dirty.  But being so often bombarded by nature’s beauty is also leaving me emotionally vulnerable.  It’s hard for me to not stop, to soak in my surroundings, to dissociate from time and to just be in the moment.

I think that’s a perfect mix of cojones and heart.

My running club organized a 50K (31 mile) fun run through Wisconsin’s southern unit of the Kettle Moraine forest yesterday.  With the Ice Age Trail 50 Miler just 7 weeks away, I knew logging some long hours on the actual route I’ll be running during the race would be nothing but beneficial, so I took the whole day to really immerse myself in the trail.

Holy bejeebus.  It’s as beautiful as it is tough.

The elevation gain from my forest adventure only totaled about 2,400 feet, but the constant up and down rolling nature of the moraines (a result of the last ice age glacier melts, thus the name) is so relentless that I never could find a consistent rhythm to my stride.  Walk up hill a little, fly down hill a little, walk up hill a little, fly down, and so on.  WHERE ARE THE FLATS?

I never found them, but I did find out that Wisconsin is home to one of the most luscious forests I’ve ever seen.  It was like running on Endor!  I kept anticipating an Ewok ambush or stumbling across one of the Empire’s hidden bases.  Green, green, green!

And the sounds: loons, bullfrogs, crickets, swallows, robins, my tired footfalls.

There were several moments along the trail when I thought, Man this is hard!  How am I ever going to run 50 miles on it if I’m struggling through 31?  I had moments where I felt awful, but I also had moments where I felt euphoric, and the switch was made within minutes.

At one point I looked down to notice I’d “run” a 15 minute mile.  That’s some real humbling shit right there, especially to a guy who touts himself as a regional class speedster.  15 minute mile!?!  Good grief. 

But I later realized, if having to suck up some slow miles is what it takes to become part of nature’s truest gifts, then I’m all for it.  In the end, it took me 6 hours and 21 minutes to complete my 31 mile Kettle adventure.  That’s the longest run I’ve ever logged to date.  To put that time in perspective, my current 50K trail PR is 5:15, and I barely gave any effort in attaining that time, as it too was just a fun run.

Yet I can’t help but think 6 hours and 21 minutes still isn’t enough time to sufficiently gallivant through such luscious forest.  It surely didn’t feel like I was out there that long.  And despite the aches in my glutes and the pains in my quads, I didn’t want to escape the canopy.  I wanted to stay in there as long as I could.

Time stops in there.  And in a world where time is often my enemy, suddenly I don’t mind reevaluating my expectations.