10 miles @ Town Lake, 1:43

Yesterday I ran my first ever 10-miler, the longest distance I've run in my life. It wasn't actually as hard as I thought it would be, although the first 4-5 miles before the sun started setting were pretty hot and sucky. I ran the entirety of the Town Lake Hike and Bike trail. I kept expecting to get to a point where I'd think, "OK, I just can't do this anymore" but I never really did. The hardest part was the first half; by the second I'd made it under the I-35 bridge onto the part of the trail I'd run before, so I knew I could make it back and if I really crashed I could cross one of the bridges before MoPac and get back to my car. At about 2 miles in the trail stops running along the lake and is basically just the sidewalk on Riverside going over 35 and down until it meets Lakeshore, which is a pretty grim stretch lacking in shade and water fountains. That was the part where I kept thinking, OK, I'm like 7 miles from my car, I have no money, and I'm going to be stuck in East Austin forever if I can't keep going. I took like a 90-second walk break here (after 35 minutes or so) to regroup and reassure myself that I was on the right track, and after that I was running 10 minute miles the rest of the way. I lured myself to MoPac fantasizing about the water coolers RunTex puts out every day, because while water fountains on the trail are plentiful, they aren't necessarily cold.

I'm pretty impressed with having trained myself to run sans Ipod- I tried doing it again on Monday and the new headphones I got were a pain in the ass and kept slipping out of my ears so I ended up just taking them off and carrying the damn thing. Even yesterday, I just kind of got in the zone and did it, and I knew I could do it right from the start. Why has it gotten so much easier just being here? I think maybe I was just getting really bored running in Houston, doing the same boiling hot loop around Memorial Park every day, sucking exhaust fumes. I think Austin heat is much less stifling that Houston heat. At least we're in August, the nadir of the summer. Things can only get better from here, and maybe one day it'll be cool again. This is the point in the summer where I start to disbelieve that winter will ever come again.

Lesson 1: Trail running is freaking hard.

My new place in Austin has the major perk of being located just up the (steep, quarter mile hill) street from an entrance to the Barton Creek Greenbelt, so I've been doing a lot of running on the trails. I've secretly harbored fantasies of becoming a hardcore trail runner..they just seem like such cool people, and like most outdoorsy types, they remind me of my friend Whitney, who is my secret hero for all the hardcore XCountry skiing and mountain bike training she does. Anyway, I joined the Hill Country Trail Runners in an effort to get to know some more runners in the area and to encourage myself to hit the trails a bit more. Of course, I've typically become obsessed with reading trail race reports and posts on the trail running forums at Runner's World Online, which is largely populated by ultramarathoners. I haven't even run a regular marathon yet, but it's in my nature to get ahead of myself so I try to just let it go.

Anyway, yes, trail running is hard. It requires a lot of attention to things like foot placement and terrain, and even on the trails nearest my house, which are not especially technical, I find myself sliding around and trying unsuccessfully to avoid rolling an ankle. The pace is also slower, but the beauty of trail running is that pace often becomes secondary or wholly unimportant. What really counts is time spent on your feet, time spend outside dealing with plants and rocks and mud and bugs and puddles. Runners can be so obsessive about numbers, a compulsion I know well. It's a pretty exhausting obsession, and it's great for people who want to beat themselves up because there's always some new standard to adhere to or criterion to meet. Just today I was reading something on a marathon training website trying to convince people that it's ok to walk through aid stations in races because "Joe Olympic Trials Qualifier ran a 2:08 while walking through aid stations and even stopping to tie his shoe!!" I mean, maybe if I were trying to qualify for the Olympics, I would quibble a bit about walking through water stops. There are the people who worry that they didn't really "run" a marathon if they stop at any point. From what I gather about trail races (and what I've experienced on my own trail runs) there are times when you have to stop running. There are steep ass inclines and rocky places or it's mile 75 of a 100-miler and your walking pace is faster than your running pace. People stop at aid stations, talk, change clothes or shoes, eat PBJs, and head out again. Sounds good to me.
Running is a great obsession to have, but I'm trying to keep my obsessions as healthy and non-crazymaking as possible, thanks. So, more trail running for me.