This past weekend, while my boyfriend’s family was up visiting, we went to Robinette’s Sunday afternoon to run the Dirty Herd 5k. I had been scouring the internet the week before, searching desperately for a 5k that I could afford. When I came across the Dirty Herd 5k, I paused. Not only was the event completely free, they were also having runners test out trail shoes and they were giving away donuts and cider afterwards. I was immediately sold and registered Adam and myself for the run.
We arrived five minutes before the race started on Sunday and unfortunately, as hard as I tried, I could not find a single pair of trail shoes in my size. I guess 8.5 is a common girls’ foot size. Adam was able to successfully secure a pair, as I stood grumbling in the cold. I had not had time to meticulously pick out the perfect running outfit, rather I had just grabbed whatever I could find in the short amount of time I had. Unfortunately, what I had grabbed were a pair of black shorts and a long-sleeved tech shirt. I had at least enough sense to grab a sweatshirt before I left.
As the race horn blared, everyone proceed to run towards us in the opposite direction in which we were running. Hastily readjusting ourselves, we were back on track with the unified mass of runners. It started off well, running through a crowded parking lot full of cars. As we took our first turn, we were met by a massive bottleneck. The entire trail run was to take place on a trail that was no more than a foot wide. The race had come to a standstill as people took their turns entering the trail. We waited at least five minutes before we were even able to get started on the trail. Once we were inside, I was in awe.
We went from being out in the vast openness of the farm into a dense, untouched wilderness. The small path wound through thick underbrush, where often times you had to slow down to climb over large decaying logs and branches. The sunlight filtered down through the thick array of orange and red autumn leaves. The pushing and shoving of the racers behind me kept bringing me back to the reality that this was not a pleasure run. I frequently stopped, stepping aside to let other runners pass me, just so I could look up at the beauty I was engulfed in. I had difficulty keeping track of Adam; there were several times during the run that I turned around to check on him only to discover that he’d been swallowed by the sea of runners.
My favorite part of the 5k, excluding the donuts and cider, was when we ran through a section of the wooded trail that reminded me of my home in the woods. The tall pines were evenly paced out on either side of the trail like soldiers. The trail itself had widened to about 2 feet, which allowed for Adam and I to run side-by-side. When we started to reach the end of the run, as we exited the forest, we took a turn down an aisle of apple trees. We ran past groups of people eager to get the last apples on the nearly naked apple trees.
When we got to the end, completely out of breath from running the trail, we were informed we had actually ran the 2.5k instead of the 5k. We gave up and treated ourselves to some well-deserved apples and cider. I’m hoping to go back out to the same trail again this weekend, to more fully immerse myself in the natural beauty of the old trail and to show it more appreciation than it saw last weekend.
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