Since it has been decided by unanimous executive decision (by me, myself, and I) to prepare for the Hyner Challenge 50K as best as possible over the next two months, today was my first of 8 planned weekly “long” runs. The object of this plan is to build up my distance each week until I reach the goal of 31 miles at the race on April 21. This is the plan of a lunatic, but I won’t get into that now. Maybe I’ll address the lunacy as I move along in the plan.

If you peruse my blog posts over the past year, it quickly becomes evident that one of my favorite places to run is Mahlon Dickerson Reservation. It’s close to home. It has varied terrain. I usually do a 6 mile loop there. So it made sense to start with that loop on my return to training after my latest injury.

Below are some photos from the trail with a few more comments mixed in.

Follow this link for a video from the same morning: February 24, 2018 – The Birds.

Of course, my ankle was bothersome while running. That’s my new norm. My legs where a bit tired. My aerobic capacity has declined due to inactivity. Weighing 226 pounds now doesn’t help anything.

While writing this post I learned that a beaver’s home is called a “lodge.” I guess you could say I relearned it, because when I looked it up I thought, I knew that. But that spoiled a pun I was going to make for the next 2 pictures. I was going to say, “Beaver Dam” for the first and then, “Damn Beaver” for the second. You know, because the damn thing is eating the hell out of that tree. But that bit of wit got “lodged” midstream by my reacquired knowledge.

What is interesting about the next 2 pictures is that one half of the sky was covered by clouds and the other half was perfectly blue. There was a demarcation directly overhead. When I faced the direction of the clear sky, my surroundings appeared more colorfully and the blue of the sky was reflected off the wet trail. (The photo does not do it justice.). When I faced the opposite direction toward the cloudy sky, everything looked bland. If you had seen me at that point, turning 180 degrees back and forth, you would have sworn I was lost. I was simply amused by the color observations.

And then there is graffiti on a tree. These letters were either sliced long, long ago and have expanded in width, or someone carved them with a spoon. Logic says it’s the former. I hope “JW” is still remembered.

That’s a wrap until the next batch of photos from the woods.