The Mists of Waterton

The seasons, they are a-changin'. Saturday morning was cold and damp, with a forecast of more rain showers. I got out of bed expecting to go for a run, but gave up that idea as soon as I looked out the window. I didn't want to risk freezing to death, getting eaten by a polar bear, or encountering any of the other dangers that runners experience on days like this. Like being the least bit uncomfortable.

So I went to swim practice instead, figuring that a couple of miles in the water would have to suffice as my exercise for the day. And it was a good, hard practice. But my buddy Keith was there, and he had to go start talking about how he enjoyed running after swimming, and was planning to go out to pound the pavement after the swim practice loosened him up.

After swimming, I went home and nuked up some refried beans on a tortilla with leftover Del Taco sauce. But I kept thinking about Keith's little speech -- after all, the weather was looking friendlier. So I ended up driving out to Waterton.

I wore long sleeves and tights for the first time in many months, but still felt cold when I got out of the car. Gloves, then, too. It made me think again about the dangers of polar bears, snow leopards, sasquatches, and other dangerous denizens of the winter landscape. Indeed, it appeared that some poor soul had been almost completely consumed; all that remained was a lonely boot, dangling from the fence as a stark warning to others who might be foolish enough to risk running up this road.

Alas, though, after driving all the way out to the canyon mouth, I wasn't about to turn around and go home just because of some silly sasquatch. Besides, according to Keith, I'd be so loose and fast that I'd be able to outrun any quasi-mythical creatures, regardless of how big their feet were.

The sky was gray, and I could feel occasional spatters of drizzle as I began to jog slowly up the road. But the dirt surface was surprisingly dry; not muddy at all. This might end up being an enjoyable run after all.

I quickly discovered that Keith's assertion that "swimming before you run makes you loose" was a load of horse manure. At least for me. I was as tight as I would've been without the morning swim, and hobbled up the trail in my normal decrepit shuffle.

But it got better. I still ran slowly, and did some walking every now and then, but began to feel looser and looser. After a few miles, my friend Katie came speeding up from behind, and would've passed by me easily, but decided to slow down and chat a bit instead. She gave me encouragement to try to go a bit faster, which met with some mild success. My speed picked up.

Unfortunately, she was planning to go all the way to the sign, so we parted company and I again ran by myself for a while. I realized that I was actually quite warm, so I took the gloves off and began to enjoy the misty and mystical appearance of the canyon slopes. I realized that I was having fun. I turned around at the 5 mile mark, though, and headed back down.

When Katie caught up with me again (after having run a couple more mile than I had), I picked up the pace and stayed with her for a while. Then we saw Mr. "I swam so I'm really loose" Keith coming up the road. And sure enough, he was running easily...relaxed and strong. He turned around and ran back to the parking lot with us. (Well, with Katie, anyway. They got to talking, and unconsciously picked up the speed to a pace I couldn't handle. I don't think they even noticed that I had dropped back. Oh well.)

The bad news is that I did suffer from my tight hamstring lockstep problem during the last part of the run. The good news is that it came and went...so there were short stretches where I could pick up the pace and (for a few moments, anyway) would appear to be a real runner. The other good news is that I never encountered whatever had eaten the boot owner. And the foggy damp weather was glorious, both in its ability to keep me comfortable during the run, and for the sheer aesthetic appeal of seeing the mists covering the mountaintops.

Stay tuned, folks. In the coming weeks, I'll have tales of snow, sleet, ice, and the occasional yetti. Should be fun.