Why Trails?

I started running as a quick way to get fit--easy, cheap and I could do it with or without anyone else. Just walk out the door, and I'm on my playing field. I came to love running when I ran my first trail--a 10k race in the Hocking Hills. I never knew running could be so great--and involve my mind as well as my feet!

When I'm on a trail I'm dodging, swerving, wind-milling my arms, looking at amazing scenery, climbing hills, going through spider webs, descending the same hills while feeling like a latin dancer with all my fancy footwork--I feel graceful and free (except when I trip over a root). When it's intense there is not even space to talk. My entire mind is focused on what I'm doing and how much I'm enjoying it. Although I've fallen on a trail, I've never gotten the type of shin/ankle/hip aches I can get while pounding the pavement. Every step is unique. My entire body is involved. Although some people complain about the lack of a "groove" or steady gait-- I relish the constant process of deciding where I'm going and picking my line-adapting to the terrain or the mud. I love trails in the fall, in the winter, in the rain, in the desert, in our beautiful Ohio hills. I feel at my most capable and athletic on trails. I love the solitude, the beauty, the smell of the honeysuckle or the moss. I love trails alone and with others. I guess I just love trails. That doesn't mean that I don't run roads-I actually cover more miles on the roads or bike path than I do trails...but my heart is with the woods. The forgiving dirt. Here is an excerpt from another trail runner that encapsulates my feelings:

The next time you go on a run take notice of what happens when your foot strikes the ground. What happens when the next foot strikes the asphalt? And the next? If you are like most people the same thing happens again and again. The repetitive nature of running on a road can bring about our least favorite word — INJURY!

Contrast that to a trail run. I am talking trail here — not a paved bike path. Each individual foot strike is just that — individual. Throw in some rocks, slanted trails, and gravity defying curves and you give your feet and legs a well deserved natural break.

The same goes for the rest of your body and mind. On the road your running form seldom changes except for interruptions — cars, intersections, and the occasional whatever that always seems to break your zombie like trance. Even your mind rarely gets much excitement on a road run. After a while you may find yourself thinking of everything you were trying to get away from when you went on your run in the first place — work, bills and all those nasty little thoughts that creep in unless you run so hard that you only think about stopping. This tedium and monotony can bring about another not so favorite word — BURNOUT!

On a trail you must lift your knees to get over the rocks, torque your body to keep from falling over on the slants, and swing your arms wildly to keep from flying off the curves. Most of the time you are thinking about only one thing — the trail! You rarely end up in a zombie trance without having to pick yourself up off the very trail you so rudely forgot to think about.

The workout a trail run gives you may leave you feeling beat up but it will never leave you feeling beat down. (excerpted from Gnarly Trails & Magic Rocks, Matt Carpenter)