I wake up this morning one hour after the alarm has rung. Perhaps I was a bit too ambitious last night. And that last beer did not help. Regardless it is now 7 am, the sun is shining brightly and my schedule today calls for 16 miles. Time to get a move on.
Slugging down a few cups of coffee helps get me out to China Hat Road, which is the start of the Badlands east of Bend. Everytime I hear that name the Spingsteen song marches through my mind. I start out slowly, warming up - it is much colder than it looks with all this sunshine. The wind is whipping pretty good as I travel over a rocky path. At the end is fire road, which is essentially just a bigger dirt trail. I run along the fire road for a while, warming up as I run into the sun. The hat comes off, the gloves, the sweatshirt. All this stuff to carry! I set it down at a fork in the road and continue running, now in sweatpants and a t-shirt.
My mind starts to flit about the day - possibly snowboarding with my son or skiing with my daughter. I struggle with how hard to push them, whether I should insist on their going up the mountain with me today or not. I decide to let them take the lead. If they initiate it, I will follow through. I seldom know how hard to push with kids. If I should insist on my way, or not. It is easier to not insist, but where does that get you? To the lowest common denominator, I think.
I'm running now through a landscape that is sparse. A clump of Juniper here, a towering lodgepole pine there, mostly manzanita and other dry bushes. The wind when it blows is icy, and I'm thinking that taking off the hat and gloves was a mistake. I'm looking at my watch, counting down to when I turn around. I decide to run for two hours, or 12 miles, as snowboarding is a possibility and I don't want to be too tired. The past few times I snowboarded after running, I was exhausted after a few runs and falling a lot. And that hurts both body and ego.
I'm running now through a warren of trails that criss-cross each other, and I am trying hard to keep them straight. Generally I am good with directions, but this landscape is repetitive and easy to get lost in. I remember getting lost a few years ago, and that surge of panic welling up. The panic feeds into a voice that gets louder, saying This Way! No, That Way! No, the Other Way! It is not pleasant to harbor thoughts of drifting aimlessly through the woods and not finding your car. The Panic wants to take over, but we must keep our wits about us.
I pass by another runner, she has three dogs woofing and boofing at me and my dog. This runner is older, tanned and lean from the outdoors. We give a hearty greeting to one another. It can be lonely out here in the Badlands, and when you do see another soul you are mostly happy. Unless it is at the tail end of a long run, in which case you are miserable and not happy to see anything except the end of the trail and your car.
Finally my watch reads one hour. Turn around time. I take off my sweatpants and use them to keep my hands warm. My hands are numb from the cold. The sun is not doing its job today.
Running back I can follow my footprints through some questionable areas and succesfullly bring myself back to the fork in the road where I left my extra running clothes. To my chagrin they are not there. What the Hell?! I am mad as it is cold and I want the gloves and hat. Also this is the third time someone has stolen my running clothes. Once in Vegas, a second time in Coos Bay, and now here. I can understand Vegas, and even Coos Bay. There was a lot of traffic there. But here? There is no one to be seen. Except that grizzled old runner. But no, it could not be her. It must be hobos living in the woods around here. I slowly scan the surrounding countryside. Suddenly I feel like someone is looking back at me, through the vegetation. I don't care, I want them to show themselves, and continue to glare off into the middle distance. But it is useless. After a few minutes I shuffle off, heading back down the trail I came from, and leave the Badlands behind. 20 minutes to the car.
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