Category: Adventures
- Was that a rock or a root?
- I wonder if I can save this?
- Nope, not gonna be able to save this.
- Oh man, this is a rocky section of trail.
- Shit, this is gonna hurt.
- How should I land? Brace with hands or tuck-n-roll?
- When is the last time I fell? I can’t remember.
- Ground approaching, prepare for impact.
- FUUUUU….
Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground
Running trails in Western Pennsylvania in the Fall can be glorious. Crisp temperatures, bright sun and fall colors combine to create ideal running conditions. That said, hitting the trails this time of year can also be somewhat treacherous. The changing leaves are beautiful, but the falling leaves cover the single track, concealing the rocks and roots underfoot.
I’ve been running in this area for years, and I know this. As I was cruising the White trail in North Park yesterday, a hidden rock caught my toe and I went down hard. Head first. Superman style. The fall left me with a nice gash on my knee and trail rash on my shin, hip and forearm. My right side, which took the brunt of the impact, is quite sore today.
Luckily I’ve learned how to fall to minimize significant harm. Had I not ‘tucked and rolled,’ this one could have been much worse. Broken wrist, probably. A fall like this comes with the territory of trail running, and is a good reminder to stay present and mindful with footfalls this time of year in the northeast.
Mouthful of Trail
We have some pretty technical trails here in Western Pennsylvania and I’m usually reliable for a good fall every few months. In my mind, it goes with the territory of running on top of rocks, roots and mud. Even the best and most accomplished trail runners bite the dust. It’s been quite some time – over a year I think – since I’ve taken a digger on a run, but today was my day!
I’ve been getting out early, pre-dawn with a head torch, and pushing my pace on some faster, shorter jaunts. Today, however, I decided at the start that I’d take a relaxed route and go super easy.
The first mile was awesome. Air was a warm 67º F and it hasn’t rained in a week so the trails were perfection. Feeling excellent, I entered the section of North Park’s red trail where the tall pines pierce the sky like wooden daggers.
Then I felt it. You know what I’m talking about. I felt my toe catch on an object underfoot and everything went into slow motion. In no particular order all of the following rushed through my brain prior to my hitting the ground:
And then it was over. There I was, layed out in the wooded darkness, headlamp shining vertically up into the emerging sky, with a mouthful of trail. I spit out the dirt, brushed myself off and took a moment to assess my condition.
All good. Nothing broken. No blood. All I have to show is a few scratches on my knee and elbow, and a bruised ego. Hopefully I’m good for at least a year until the next one.
