Why do they call it trail running? I mean, I walked majority of the race.

There is elegance and exhilaration in the experience that trail running presents to each participant. Contrary to road running, you spend the entire trail race surrounded by nature calls and the smell of fresh, forest air. There’s nothing that compares to the childish rush that spreads through your body as you hop off rocks, down steps, and over uneven ground. You aggressively maneuver the trail, get muddy, and feel the silence of the remote environment that engulfs you. As physically and mentally challenging as this medium of running is, the pain you endure is a rewarding one.

However, my thoughts during this costly form of torture that had me awake before the crack of dawn to embark on the run/walk/crawl journey were less than positive. Honestly, I’m convinced the single and only reason I finished the race was the motivation to get to each aid stations – the M&M’s, pickles, potato chips, and watermelon were too hard to pass up.

This was my first trail race, and I was given tons of advice and pre-cursors on what to expect. Below I’ve shared what I’d heard, versus the reality of what I was feeling in the moment...

Let’s start with my thoughts on the name of the sport – trail 'running'.

Reality: Why do they call it trail running? I mean, I walked majority of my race. They also start these races north of 7am, and do they really expect anyone to do more than crawl at that God-awful hour?

“You’ll love the scenery. The sights and landscape on the run are spectacular!”

Reality: I wouldn’t know because the one time I raised my eyes from the path to look out into the mountains I tripped over a branch and fell. The result: a bloody knee and scraped wrists.

“Trail runners are happy people”

Reality *As I passed a guy with about 2km to go, who was dropping f-bombs and other very colourful words of choice* I beg to differ the joyous reputation trail runners carry.

“You don’t have to stop for traffic lights or cars”

Reality: I did however have to stop because my body was screaming at me in pain.

“You’ll be a little slower than usual”

Reality: I was borderline about to have an anxiety attack when I looked down at my watch and realized I was running 10min/km. Despite my pace, the sweat was running down my face a lot faster than my legs were moving...