Lucky Moment On The Piedmont Trail
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Wooden steps on trail. Photo from Line of Cedars blogI went for a trail run this morning. LOVED IT. Trail running is so different from road running. It's a completely different kind of tired at the end of it. There's something raw and gritty and base about finishing a run with your ankles spattered in mud and scratches on your legs and arms from vines and low-hanging branches, and new muscles aching because you don't usually use them on road runs.
I always let someone know when I run a trail alone, just in case anything should happen. My friend Christie is my go-to person. I let her know when I'm starting, what trail I'm running, and when I expect to be back. Unlike other friends, or even Blair, who might give me some leeway if I don't show up exactly on time, I know if I tell Christie that I expect to finish a run by 10 am, if it's 10:01 and she hasn't heard from me, she'll have the police, helicopters, and a troop of sweat-sniffing bloodhounds out looking for me. Sole Sister doesn't play around when it comes to my safety. :)
Which makes me think I got very, very lucky on what happened to me on today's run. I was wearing a running skirt that had only an unzippered pocket in the back of the skirt. I've worn this particular skirt many times and carried a car key in it, no problem. So today I thought nothing of tucking my key in the pocket and heading out on the trail.
I was on the return route when I felt something bounce against the back of my left calf. Not unusual, expect I was on a wooden bridge not near any vines and also immediately after the bounce I heard a soft "ting" as something hit the wood.
I looked back, and there was my car key, sitting on the bridge.
Two things:
- Thank GOD I was on the bridge. The trail was a boggy mess today and I never would have heard the key fall out if I'd been on the trail proper.
- Extremely grateful the key didn't fall through the wooden slats. I don't think there would have been any way to reach through to retrieve it.
Needless to say, I carried the key in my hand for the rest of the run back to the car. But I had to smile as I imagined what would have happened if the key had really been gone and I'd had to walk back Lake Brandt road into Greensboro and find a phone. The woods would have been swarming with the National Guard by the time I returned and Christie would probably never speak to me again for having worried her.
Friends and trails are wonderful things.
Cheers,
Dena
