After the fun run on Tuesday night, I just had to check out the Psycho Wyco course tonight. I was told there are almost always KC Nerds running there at 7pm on Thursday nights.
I received a call from a co-worker from down here. "you up for dinner? recap the week?". No way man! I am going to Wyandotte Cty park. "Don't ask" I say.
It has rained non stop for 2 days, totalling 5 inches. I heard this was muddy and tricky on a good day. Hey, I am tough, right?..........
I make my way out there. Study the course on my computer. With descriptions like "don't try to figure out this section, your brain will explode" and "this section was designed by the race directors dog", I knew I was in for some fun.
Nobody showed up. It was now dark. Okay, how hard could it be to find the trail?
.......no, not that way,
.....ooops, not that way.
I guess I will just start on the road and look for a trail.
I see a sign,
"Bridle Trail" Yes! I knew it was a horse trail.
Hmmmmm. Rocks, hill, rocks. mud. MUD. MMMUUUDDDD!!!.
Crap, almost lost my shoe. Shoe sucker grade mud mixed in with rocks. Fun, but a little concerning. I was on foreign territory.
I am completely cool anywhere at Afton, but it is spooky seeing eyes in the forest on unfamiliar grounds. Plus, I did not know the details of the course.
After a few smart trail intersection decisions, I was on a hill with no trail. I ran across it, looking for it, and scared more deer (they scared me). Is that it?
No, it is a road. I saw the lake on my left, so I knew I was not lost. Might as well stay on the road until I find the trail. Ran for a while.
Came to a shelter. I looked around for a map. Ah, there is one down a different road. I had run from the start of the race course to the just past the "wyandotte triangle" but missed half of the trail.
I decided to take the trail back. I was not in the mood to due something stupid like getting lost, or worse, injured. I was at the "83rd street shelter". I ran back.
There was so much mud, I was 10 inches deep at one point. It was rediculous. I managed to run up the hills, but was killed by the mud bogs.
It was fun. I was feeling great, I was pounding where I could. I felt like a machine again. Then it happened.
I caught a branch with my shoe and it took me down on my left knee. Hard. Damn! At least it was my other knee, and on the front (not the back muscle). Blood, but nothing hanging off. Luckily I was almost back.
I hobbles back to the car. This is exactly what I fear running alone in remote, dark, extreme conditions. If that fall were worse, I would have been in deep trouble. Good thing I had turned around.
I was pretty candy ass only making it a quarter of the way around the lake, but it still took me an hour to get there and back.
This IS a radical course. I am guessing it is one of those which reduces you to tears in the final miles of a 50K. My kind of fun.
The knee looks okay. Nothing a little ice can't cure.
Back at the hotel. Ordered Rosatis Pizza, drinking Red Hook Lond Hammer IPA.
I am itching for a long hard run. Not sure if it will happen this weekend.