Do Two Past Half-Asses Equal One Good Run?

Having managed to get my sorry self out for a few short runs this week to remind myself how to do it (surprisingly, I do seem to forgot how exactly to put one foot in front of the other sometimes), I was strangely excited--and anxious--to head to the Fells this weekend for another long run with my better half.

The Covered Bridges is looming only two short weeks away, and both Jared and I can admit that our training has been, well, half-assed at best. (Don't you wonder what half an ass looks like? I do. Though that would also mean half the RAP. Intriguing.)

So, we hauled ourselves out of bed, and drove the short distance to the Fells, ready to run by 7:00 a.m. The woody area was cool and quiet, still damp with the night's dew, and a faint wind whispered through the lush green leaves and brush. As we turned along path after path, running with easy, loose gaits, I marveled anew that such a gorgeous slice of nature could be found just outside of Boston, in what is essentially the heart of Suburbia.

We looped once, twice, three times around a reservoir, before turning onto what I knew was a challenging hiking trail, the Skyline trail. It's steep inclines arched harshly up and down, and the small rocks and roots jutting from the earth made it clear that this was a trail for hiking, and, just maybe, one for a couple of crazy morning runners. Gasping, at least we arrived at the crest, and looked out over the tops of the trees of the Fells. The air had begun to thicken and grow heavy, with what seemed to be impending rain, and the light breeze had increased to hold the occasional mellow gust. After a short break to grab a drink, we headed back down into the heart of the Fells, and found our way to a soft beaten path that took us back to the parking area.

After a long stretch, Jared popped his bike out of the trunk, and with a friend who'd just shown up, headed back out to the trails to get in some mountain biking miles in preparation for his upcoming triathlon. I, on the other hand, settled myself into the driver-side seat with a book and a bottle of water, wholly content with the 9 peaceful miles of the morning.