Mother Nature

After Friday's gastric ordeal, it felt absolutely wonderful to be up and about bright and early on Saturday morning. I was hoping to get to Waterton canyon in time to start my run by sunrise, figuring that being on the road that early would give me time to cover the entire canyon in time to make it back to the pond for swimming by 8:20 or so.

Once again, I carried my camera, hoping to snag a photo of the fox I'd seen out here a few weeks ago. And as the first hint of sunlight began to reveal the canyon road, I noticed several deer, dining within the roadside brush. Out came the camera.

It was still too dark to take a photo without a flash, but I was probably too far away from them for the flash to light 'em up sufficiently. Still, dedicated documentarian that I am, I had to try.

Do you ever wonder what deer are thinking? These fellows were probably thinking "Is that a headlight? Perhaps I should stare stupidly into it to validate the cliché. Or perhaps it was lightning, though come to think of it, there was no thunder...and everyone knows that woodland creatures are tuned into all of Nature's subleties, and would surely know that booming noises should follow such a flash. Then perhaps it's a man-made technology of some sort, and therefore something to be feared and avoided -- come, let us amble into the thicket where our fur's nondescript color will render us invisible against the background of thicketage."

Or more likely they're thinking, "Stupid papparazzi. I am SO outtahere."

In any case, they left the road and deprived me of further photo opportunities. I wouldn't know for sure if I had captured their image until I downloaded the photos at home later. (I hadn't. Got a good reflection off the "No dogs" sign, but that was all that was visible. Darn.)

I began my run, feeling loose and pain-free. I could tell that I was running at an excellent pace. Of course, my GPS told me the truth, which is that my speed would have to improve to be described as "glacial". Sigh. But at least my knees and hamstrings didn't hurt.

For a while.

It didn't take long, though, until I was back in my normal mode. I won't bore you with the details. Bottom line: My hammie still needs work. If anyone can figure out how I can obtain weekly professional massages without having to pay for it or compromise my rigid moral standards, please let me know.

On the way back down the canyon, I saw my friends Joe and Kristen, and they both appeared to be running quite well. I also saw more wildlife; the bighorns are back.

I had been passed by another runner who was going quite a bit faster than me, but I noticed that he had started walking. As I approached, I could see why. A couple of sheep were crossing the road, and one of them appeared to be doing that macho staredown thing that the male sheep sometimes do. He wasn't that big, and his horns were pretty short...they didn't curl around at all, so I knew he probably wasn't the alpha male of the herd. But still, nobody wants to be head-butted by a critter with 60 pounds of bone on his head. I took a picture, and then the other runner and I eased past him.

For prey animals, the bighorns sure act like they own the road. And you know what? As hard as my head is, I do not want to ram it against one of those bad boys. Fortunately, as far as I know, their hairy eyeball act is partly just herd-protection posturing and partly just a human interpretation of the sad fact that their eyeballs are, like, way over on the sides of their heads. Of course they're going to look at you weird.

Anyway, no head butting was necessary, as the fellow had moved by the time I actually arrived at that spot in the road. And the rest of the run down to the parking lot was uneventful.

As was my subsequent swim in the gravel pond. The sky had remained overcast the entire morning, which not only made the run more pleasant, but also meant that I wouldn't go sun-blind when I breathed toward the east. There was no wind, either. A pleasant swim. I worked hard and was tired at the end of my laps, but had no complaints.

...Until I got out of the water. The bighorns may be prey animals, and will eventually cede the road to you, but the predators can sense when a man is tired and vulnerable. That's when they attack.

Yes, that's right—blood was spilled. My blood. From the moment I began my "I've run 12 miles and swam 2 and I'm jus' whupped" shuffle back toward my car, I was the focal point of a mass attack by hundreds of millions of Nature's fiercest creatures; the mosquito.

Slapping about myself with my towel, my swim cap, and my goggles, I struggled to defend myself as I rushed toward the sanctuary of my waiting automobile. The other park patrons cringed in horror at the sound of my heart-rending screams, as the foul flying devils carried off quart after quart of my precious bodily fluids. But somehow...somehow, I managed to make it to the car before becoming completely dessicated and mummified. Somehow, I managed to unlock the vehicle and throw myself into the driver's seat, locking the door behind me. A few mosquitos came inside with me, but in the enclosed space, the advantage turned. Call PETA on me if you wish, but I gleefully confess that anything with wings that remained inside the car with me was quickly crushed and send back to Satan from whence they came. And I would do it again.

OK, so upon re-reading the previous paragraphs, I realize that I may have exaggerated. A bit. I don't think I lost more than one quart of blood. And there probably weren't really hundreds of millions of skeeters. That would darken the sky like some sort of Biblical plague, and the truth is that there was plenty of light, despite the remaining cloud cover. Upon further review, I realized that I had received something like 10 bites, total -- still far more than any defenseless human should have to endure. But it was survivable. I survived. And that meant that overall, it had been a pretty good morning.

The rest of the weekend included a trip to the cinema to see "The Dark Knight" with my son, and a pleasant bike ride the next morning. I also performed my volunteer duties as the starter at the CARA kids' swim meet on Sunday, as well. But I'll have to save those tales for another time. For now, I need to find some calamine lotion.

Have a great day!