SweatyShe Monday (05/24/10): Chivalry on the Trail (or, I hate wet feet)
By Susan Farago
My tough-girl, hard-core image has come into question but I am here to defend myself. Sort of. The thing is, I hate having wet feet while running. HATE it! The rest of me can be absolutely drenched or dripping with sweat and it doesn’t bother me. But that awful squishy, enclosed, soggy toed feeling step after step knowing full well that gynormous blisters are forming and getting infected with god only knows what bacteria only to be one step away from contracting gangrene? I will go to great lengths to avoid the whole mess.
Which brings me to our trail run on Sunday. Jim and I were discussing routes earlier in the week and we weren’t sure if it was possible to start at the 360 trail access and end up at the Hill of Life without getting wet from the creek crossings. Jim offered to scout out a few routes on Friday and he thought he found a way. Great! So five of us headed out for our usual Sunday morning trail run and before I knew it, I found myself standing on a mini island in the middle of the creek bed, water flowing on both sides, and Jim announcing, “Yeah, you’re going to have to get your feet wet.” I looked down at my watch and it read 6:15. Six minutes into a three hour run and I’m already being threatened with gangrene? Yeah, I don’t think so! I was not alone in this sentiment. Laura was standing next to me and not enjoying the prospect of wet feet either.
I managed to hop-skip-and-jump my way across half of the creek and my feet were still dry. There had to be a way to stay dry and get to the other side. My eyes were scanning the rocks and branches in the water, tree limbs overhead, something…ANYTHING! By now the guys were already across, succumbing to the prospect that their dry feet days were over. I did the only thing I could do at this point. I chewed Jim out. “Jim! I thought you said this would be dry?!?” He laughed and said, “Yeah well I guess not.”
Laura and I were not amused. As the water rushed around us, I was pondering several options:
1. Stand here for another few weeks until the water receded and we could cross.
2. Turn around and run the alternate (dry feet) route I knew about.
3. Throw something at Jim.
4. Consider the possibility of doing a handstand and “hand walk” across the creek.
5. Do the unthinkable…
Before I could even finish coming up with option #5, Leary (my husband) knew what I was about to think. So he stomped through the water, turned around with his back facing me, and said, “OK, climb on.” My hero! So I hopped on and he carried me piggy-back style across the rest of the creek and set me down safely and dryly on other side. This is only one of the many reasons why I love this man. John was not too far behind us toting Laura on his back as well. A thousand “thank yous” ensued and we were off!
As we ran towards the Hill of Life, there was a lot of sloshing and squishing sounds going on. But it wasn’t coming from Laura or me. We were very happy girls. I turned to John and Leary and said, “We’re not going to live this down are we?” John quickly responded, “Nope you’re not.” In the name of dry feet, I’m ok with that.
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Photo: Warda 50K trail race in Nov 2009. Proof that I will get my feet wet if I have to :-)
By Susan Farago
My tough-girl, hard-core image has come into question but I am here to defend myself. Sort of. The thing is, I hate having wet feet while running. HATE it! The rest of me can be absolutely drenched or dripping with sweat and it doesn’t bother me. But that awful squishy, enclosed, soggy toed feeling step after step knowing full well that gynormous blisters are forming and getting infected with god only knows what bacteria only to be one step away from contracting gangrene? I will go to great lengths to avoid the whole mess.Which brings me to our trail run on Sunday. Jim and I were discussing routes earlier in the week and we weren’t sure if it was possible to start at the 360 trail access and end up at the Hill of Life without getting wet from the creek crossings. Jim offered to scout out a few routes on Friday and he thought he found a way. Great! So five of us headed out for our usual Sunday morning trail run and before I knew it, I found myself standing on a mini island in the middle of the creek bed, water flowing on both sides, and Jim announcing, “Yeah, you’re going to have to get your feet wet.” I looked down at my watch and it read 6:15. Six minutes into a three hour run and I’m already being threatened with gangrene? Yeah, I don’t think so! I was not alone in this sentiment. Laura was standing next to me and not enjoying the prospect of wet feet either.
I managed to hop-skip-and-jump my way across half of the creek and my feet were still dry. There had to be a way to stay dry and get to the other side. My eyes were scanning the rocks and branches in the water, tree limbs overhead, something…ANYTHING! By now the guys were already across, succumbing to the prospect that their dry feet days were over. I did the only thing I could do at this point. I chewed Jim out. “Jim! I thought you said this would be dry?!?” He laughed and said, “Yeah well I guess not.”
Laura and I were not amused. As the water rushed around us, I was pondering several options:
1. Stand here for another few weeks until the water receded and we could cross.
2. Turn around and run the alternate (dry feet) route I knew about.
3. Throw something at Jim.
4. Consider the possibility of doing a handstand and “hand walk” across the creek.
5. Do the unthinkable…
Before I could even finish coming up with option #5, Leary (my husband) knew what I was about to think. So he stomped through the water, turned around with his back facing me, and said, “OK, climb on.” My hero! So I hopped on and he carried me piggy-back style across the rest of the creek and set me down safely and dryly on other side. This is only one of the many reasons why I love this man. John was not too far behind us toting Laura on his back as well. A thousand “thank yous” ensued and we were off!
As we ran towards the Hill of Life, there was a lot of sloshing and squishing sounds going on. But it wasn’t coming from Laura or me. We were very happy girls. I turned to John and Leary and said, “We’re not going to live this down are we?” John quickly responded, “Nope you’re not.” In the name of dry feet, I’m ok with that.
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Photo: Warda 50K trail race in Nov 2009. Proof that I will get my feet wet if I have to :-)
The sentence..."you can be such a girl sometimes." comes to mind.
ReplyDeleteYour tough girl card has been officially REVOKED! I'm bringing you a hot pink scarf to wear until you redeem yourself! ;-)
ReplyDelete