Baptism by Fire...

or what you learn by running on trails.

This morning I woke up feeling the need for speed. So I was out the door by 6:30 AM.. Stretched for a few minutes, did a five minute walk and began my run. As I've stated before, running on tree bark, soft dirt and gravel is an exhilarating experience. It's also very tough. Heart rate at slow speeds reaches what you would normally attain when going faster on paved roads.

As my run progressed, I zigzagged through the area running on an incline and then back down. As I ran every little nuance of the road made its presence known, I was quickly diaphoresing profusely. I've been on this trail (abandoned railroad track, running parallel to Lambert road in Whittier, Ca) before and I normally ware gloves just in case. This morning feeling so good I made the decision to skip the jacket, long sleeves and gloves. The wisdom of my choice was made apparent quickly as my body temperature raised quicker than you can say one million nanoseconds (or so I thought).

Running has this effect (any form of aerobic activity does I believe) on you. There was a moment when my form was perfect, I was just like a gazelle skipping about little obstacles here and there, speeding up when appropriate and don't forget the zigzagging. There was this moment where I actually fell as if was air born, soaring through the clouds, almost gliding, in total unison with my surroundings, I no longer heard the cars going by on the parallel road.

When flying, make sure your landing gear is working (Lesson number 101).

So as I was saying, I'm running, my form is perfect, I can even hear the theme from Chariots of Fire (I'm moving effortlessly). All of a sudden, BAMH! CRASH! (What's happening here, I'm no longer running vertical). Ooops I'm going horizontal! Wake up you idiot! Pay attention to what you're doing. Oh boy, why is the ground coming up so fast?

I stepped on a twig with my left foot as I effortlessly glided through the trail. The twig which now turned out to be about two feet in length (more like a widow maker if you as me), protruded up on the right side. My right foot gets caught in the process. Yup, I'm going down. That momentous decision to skip the gloves was now not such a good idea. I was no longer running on tree bark, it was all loose gravel on this part of the trail. My left landing gear (left hand), came to the rescue and in an instant I remembered what it was like to be a kid again. As my left hand hit the gravel, then my right hand (water bottle flew somewhere in the vicinity), my left leg was next, a plum of dust engulfed the small patch of trail. I graciously (you have to look good no matter what) skidded across the gravel in what seemed like an eternity.

My hands were on fire. My left leg and upper left arm would be on fire later as I took a shower and the water hit the areas where I had originally only felt a small discomfort.

I gathered myself, regained my composure and used part of the mixture of green tea in the water bottle to cleanse the slight ruddy appearance of my left hand. That's what you do with fire, you douse it with water. I kept going, the burning pain reached a crescendo like a symphonic moment not to be forgotten easily. As I went farther along, everything went back to normal. My heart rate went back to it's normal pace and I started gliding again. This time I was ever so aware of anything remotely in front of me.

The moral of the story: he who thinks is standing (or running), be careful that you may not fall (1Cor 10:12)

Till next time...