what to do, what to do

Eating maple syrup and craving moose stew.

For years, I've been looking ahead to 40, thinking of it as an excuse--or an opportunity--to make a return trip to Alaska for one of two butt-kicking races: either the Equinox Marathon, which takes place in Fairbanks in September, or the Lost Lake Run, a 17-mile trail run just south of Anchorage. This race is run in August, which makes it more appealing, as I will still be on summer break and won't have to find coverage for my classes.

One of my New Year's Resolutions this year is To Act. I've spent enough time looking at thresholds that need repair, a barn that needs de-cluttering, and stories that need finishing. But I'm not sure if a trip to Alaska constitutes action or caprice. Or whether it matters if it's one or the other.

Last month, round trip airfare was in the 400's. I almost pulled the trigger (or pressed the button, as it were). I did not. Now we are into the 500's, and with oil prices rising, I don't see fares going down any time soon.

If I were to go, I would have child care (Mom) and places to stay (friends, campground).

And 40 has arrived.

What to do, what to do.

not your mother's ridge run

Date: Saturday, March 5
Time: 7:00am (ish)
Duration: 3hrs, 45 minutes
Course: Roaring Brook Falls (Cheshire) to Naugatuck State Forest/Brooksvale
Park; back to Roaring Brook and over toward Mixville Park; back to
Roaring Brook again. (Total distance: ??)
Temp: 45-ish?
Conditions: Variable; mostly sloppy
Runners: Mirela, Tricia


I haven’t been very diligent about updating the blog (though Anne has been pretty good). It’s not for lack of interest, to be sure, nor lack of training (well, not really); just lack of time. I just can’t get my priorities straight: the job keeps getting in the way of my athletic and creative endeavors. Go figure.

On Tuesday, I ran for 3 hours, starting from my house in Cheshire. I ran alongside Alexa for about a mile (she was on her bicycle), dropped her off at her home daycare, and continued another mile-plus to Brooksvale Park. The trail conditions were fair in the beginning: slippery packed powder and some ice. By the last hour, however, I was sinking in with every step, and swearing out loud every third. It was a most frustrating finish, and a run that would have taken two hours under normal circumstances took just under three.

Saturday’s run was much more pleasant, and not only because I had company for almost all of it. I was excited to explore the blue trail along the ridge behind Cheshire, which traverses Mount Sanford and Bethany Mountain. Mirela and I met at Roaring Brook Falls, and this time, unlike Tuesday, I remembered my Yaktrax (in which, incidentally, Bryan had tied a knot the night before, the rubber having broken on my last Sleeping
Giant run. In defense of Yaktrax, I’ve had mine for 8 years, so they really don’t owe me anything.). The run is flat for about the first 1/8 mile, and then climbs a steep, steep hill up to the falls, which really are quite stunning, and a very well-kept secret, too.

“At least it’s pretty much a ridge run once we get to the top,” I told Mirela. I should have known not to expect any such thing from the blue trail. Behind the ridge that is visible from the east side of Cheshire is another hidden ridge. And another. And another. And, as we discovered, the ridge isn’t quite a ridge, but a series of hills (or “mountains,” according to the Connecticut Walk Book).

On the south-facing sections, the conditions were borderline luxurious. Our feet touched actual, snow-less ground, which was glorious. In other sections, ice prevailed, and at one point, we found ourselves having to stop and think about how to get down the slope without injury. We hugged a lot of trees and spent some time sliding on our butts, and Mirela sustained a pretty nasty abrasion to her shin. It was probably fortunate that our planned family ski outing to Mohawk was cancelled today (due to rain), because I’m not sure she could have gotten a ski boot over that bump!
At Naugatuck State Forest, where the trail meets the YMCA camp at the back side of Brooksvale Park, we took the forest road to the blue/red-dot spur trail. Frustration reigned again (it was in this very same spot that I let a loud F-bomb drop on Tuesday), as the snow was soft on the surface and hard against our shins. We looped back up to the blue trail, and headed back in the direction from which we had started.

We were surprised to find, when we returned to the Falls, that we had only been running for 2 hours and 20 minutes. So, we went north, toward Prospect. Lo and behold: more hills! My quads were feeling the burn, my feet were soggy and cold, and I was hungry. I had the last of my meager provisions, a packet of Chocolate Outrage Gu, and felt slightly rejuvenated. After about 30 minutes, we turned back, and I accompanied Mirela to her car, determined to have company for as long as possible.

3 hours 23 minutes. I had my mind set on doing 4 hours, so I said good-bye to Mirela and turned back to the trail once again. Rather than subjecting myself to the torture of the steep ascent up the red trail that leads back to the Falls, I followed some snow-shoe tracks down an unmarked trail, a trail that also headed in the direction of the ridge. The ascent was somewhat gentle for the first 10th of a mile or so, and then it turned sharply upward. Though I usually relish the opportunity to squeeze in one final hill, this time my legs pleaded with me to please find another option. So, I took a right, and the trail climbed more gradually.

After fifteen minutes, hunger began to overshadow the desire to reach my time goal, and I turned back toward the trailhead. Total time was 3 hours and 43 minutes: respectable, but not close enough to call it four.

I went home, shed my sopping wet socks, and had an omelette stuffed with cheddar, mushrooms, spinach, and scallions, which really hit the spot. Later, Mirela and her family came over for homemade pizza and beverages, and we finished the evening off with a sinfully yummy carrot cake that they were sweet enough to bring.

I was sore, but envious that Mirela was planning to do it all over again with Anne (who is likely tanned and relaxed after a week in Florida) in the morning. Since I had volunteered to sub at Sunday School, I had to content myself with only one looonnggg run this weekend, but I’m looking forward to enjoying the second run vicariously.