Getting ready for 2012.

I ran a trail race yesterday. It was in southwest Chicago at the Pulaski Forest Preserve, where they have real lakes, trailes, and trees. It was snowy and my running partner Stacey was concerned she would lose a few toes, but since I'm a graduate of Hebron, North Dakota's Hunters Safety Classes, I've learned all about that (I also know how to move a loaded weapon safely over/under a fence) and assured her a 8k would not do any major damage.

The selling point of the trail race was this: three trails. All are less than 6 miles, more than 4. Each trail is labeled as either easy, medium, or hard. Pick a trail. Everyone finishes together, no matter which trail you picked.

I ran, and it was pretty fun for the first mile! We ran right through some mountain biking trails that were rocky or toppled over with trees or branches, and were so skinny it was impossible to pass people unless you really committed. We basically ran up and down the side of a hill in varying zig zags (where we saw one lone paint ball competitor), and then ran another easy 3-4 miles on an open trail that dusted from snow on Friday. Then WOOOOOOOOO the finish line with bottles of water and bananas.

The race was sponsored by Red Bull (with arm warmers from Saucony as the swag, pretty Goucher-some) so there was PARTY MUSIC PUMPING LET'S DANCE AND DO SCARY-SOUNDING THINGS TO EACH OTHER kind of music. The MC kept asking finishers which trail they ran, and what they thought ---- "easy" finishers thought it was hard, "hard" finishers though it easy...

...because all of the trails were the same length and degree of difficulty! WHAT? Was the purpose of the race to lose the trust of the two hundred or so people that already paid you thirty-five dollars? Success, Red Bull.

Regardless, I ran, I got to have psuedo-road trip talks with a new friend on our 30 mile drive, and now my calves are sore from that mile of up-down-up-down-right-right-left-right-A-A-B running. Also, it was really gorgeous, and great to get out of the city. That night, Tim and I went to the casino in another Chicago suburb, and then came home and baked some challah, which we gave to our neighbor Patrick as an advance treat for cat-sitting. Not bad.