Saturday, August 24, 2013

The Beast



CT is injured. I can't even remember the last time I ran double digit miles. The last few short runs have been a struggle to complete. This isn't good. Expecting the ray of hope to turn this all around? Don't. Just when it seems like it can't get any worse, I find myself standing in the woods staring at the trail that brought me to tears last year in what I can only describe as one of the hardest runs of my life. Not exactly set for a confidence builder.

Prior to lining up for the start, I took off my team colors. Yup, running naked again. I'm starting to think there is something to this running with my shirt off. Shirtless might be like shorts in winter, there's some kind of immediate respect given. Who knew. Not one, but two people were suddenly asking me questions about the course like I'm the seasoned pro. Shirt on, nobody cares. Shirt off, noticed. One person even moved back further from the starting line based on my look. Never, would have expected this. If they only knew how worried I actually was!

Last year, I wasn't prepared at all for what I got myself into. This year, I had a mental image of the whole course, specifically where the climbs would be burned into my brain (probably from the pain). No idea if it will help, but don't plan on burning myself out too quickly, then get subjected to the course beating me to a pulp at the end. Run smart, run to survive.

I don't remember the sound of the start, just the surge forward. My mind was flooded with all kinds of thoughts from how great it is to be with my running group, to disappointed CT wasn't able to run, to worries like finishing like a wreck or letting certain people beat me. This year the course started with a loop on a different trail. We were all clumped together and people rushed to run around people on the narrow trail.  I figured I'd have thirteen miles to catch them, most likely on the hills when they will be walking. I probably did start slower than I should have, close to mile two, I heard a member of my group wondering why I was going so slow. This started, the awaking.

Here's the mile two hill. Three hundred sixty five days ago, I was already feeling tired and wanted to walk by the top of this monster. Now, it feels like I'm coasting. But something is happening, can you feel it? What started with an itch, "going too slow", became at twitch, who was ahead of me? Snarl. There's this other group that has team shirts. They existed before us, they have way more members, probably faster too, but I'm here to say we are better. My mind flashes to a quote a from one of my favorite movies, "The Cowboys are finished, you understand? I see a red sash, I kill the man wearin' it!". Well, replace red sash with the other team's shirt color and replace kill with passing and you get the idea. What's that smell?

Somewhere around mile six, I caught one of the people I had no business being behind.  Not to mention, one of the shirts got by me and disappeared ahead.  I spent far too long behind a clump of four runners who were practically on each other's heels.  I couldn't find my moment to get around all of them at once on the narrow trail, so waited them out and finally was able to get round them two at time when they slowed going down a hill.  Passed them, then getting by the person who had no business being ahead of me, it was now time to track down the shirt.  What the hell is this really long hair growing on my back?

No more holding back.  No more worries.  What's happening to me? Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrah! I'd rip my shirt off, but it's already gone. The Beast, RRRROAR is unleashed!  Hide the women and children, lock the doors, the hunt has begun.  Mile eight, the shirt who passed me earlier is now behind me. Then another, then another. Just when I think I can relax, off in the distance, there's a flash of that color through the trees again, plus I can smell'em! To be fair, not all were the other team's shirts, it just seems to be the "in" color, but it didn't matter, they were all going down!  The Beast don't care!  AaaaaHooo!

At eleven, I felt like I was leaving carnage behind. Severed limbs, ripped out hearts, from my victims unable to escape, maybe even a few broken trees. Should I be checked for rabies? Just before twelve, I was already planning my finish. I was hoping to find some mud or dirt that and give myself war paint under my eyes. With the hills done, I still had more to give and was planning on clocking a seven minute mile for the final mile. Then it happened, there's the finish line. It's over. Shit! That's it? It's over, I want more! Rrrrrrrrr! The Beast is still craving defenseless runners, but there aren't anymore. Is this what Bruce Banner feels changing back from the Hulk? Talk about anticlimactic. So much left to give, yet it's over. Hope The Beast didn't rip my shorts and they still fit me when the other guy comes back, otherwise this is gonna be embarrassing.  Dammit, and why when I changed back, did all the back hair stay?!

Finished 26th overall. Might not seem that impressive, but that's over twenty spots and over thirty minutes better than last year. What a difference a year makes, going from broken and questioning if I'd even run again, to becoming some kind of savage animal.

Oh and for the record, STILL the best group and a bunch of animals! (Or is that one Beast among a bunch of beauties?)

            


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