Reflections of a Slow Runner: Stacked It!

Today marks the day where I have - like a lemur - followed in the footsteps of many a trail runner before me. That's right, I stacked it! Years of running has brought me close to the edge many times. I've tripped, skidded, stumbled, slid, and lurched my way along uneven (or even) surfaces. I've rolled ankles, and had the occasional contact of hand or butt to ground. But I have never before well and truly stacked it.

We started off as a group on Daisy Hill. The first 6k were going beautifully. I felt strong, felt good. Despite the much faster pace than last week I managed to keep up with the crowd. The day was cool, the sun was shining, and everyone was smiling.

You can't see the smiles from this angle, but they were there as we all started out fresh on the trail in the morning.

We turned off on a "single-wide" track designed for mountain bikes. I am slow on natural hazards - and hills, and flat surfaces, and long distances - so today I thought I'd push myself just to the edge of my comfort zone with speed. As I wound my way along the narrow, hazardous trail, I remember my foot hitting a tree root. Next thing I know, I was body surfing along the dirt. Luckily, my forward momentum was stopped short by a tree hitting my shoulder (or was it the other way around?)

I admit I got a bit teary - more from the shock than anything else. But before I could blink twice or register that I was planking in the middle of the trail, my fellow trail runners had surrounded me, helped me to my feet, and were using their water bottles to wash off the worst of the grime. I wasn't sure at first where blood ended and dirt began, but as the stinging lessened I realized the damage was not as bad as I thought. Everything was moving properly, so I set off again - more cautiously! - along the trail.

Innocent looking photos of the single-wide track, which bested two of our number today.

The best thing about trail runners is that almost everyone has stacked it at one point or another. So while they were quick to offer sympathy and anecdotes of their own misadventures, they also understood the importance of standing on your own two feet (so to speak) and didn't try to baby me.

We were only halfway through the trail and the quickest way back was forward, so onward I went! At about 8.5k into the trail I felt like a tire that had suddenly hit a nail: all the energy leaked out of me. When the group split into two, I opted to join the "return straight to carpark" group and left the 15k+ loop to other hardy souls. By the end of the run (~10.75km seemed to be the general consensus regarding distance), I was well and truly exhausted. But hey, everything was still working properly so it could have been worse.

I wasn't the only one to eat dirt today. Two of my fellow trail runners came back from that trail with misadventures of their own - but that would be their tale to tell, not mine.