Remember when you were a kid and running through puddles was awesome? One way to ruin that childhood memory is to plod through 8 miles of puddles with your Sunday running group.
Actually it wasn't all that bad. It was raining but we stayed relatively dry thanks to tree cover. I tried to dodge puddles for the first mile or so but it wasn't long before I gave up on that effort. Some of the puddles covered the entire trail, many were so deep they came up well over your shoes and socks. There was often gravel and mud lurking at the bottom of those puddles which inevitably found its way into the bottom of my socks. I don't mind being wet but I really hate having wet feet. And wet glasses.
Other than being exceptionally damp my first ever 8 mile run was a success. The trail, going north this time, was quite nice with the singular exception of a hill they call The Silencer. I made it up without walking but it took a hell of a lot of energy. At the bottom of the hill our pace leader had stopped us to tell us about the best way to run up a hill, nice info to have but I think it also ruined our momentum a bit. This thing was brutal, my quads were screaming near the top but I refused to let it beat me. After that it was all relatively downhill. But boy was I glad to see the mile marker that was the finish line. Once in my car I immediately took off my shoes, took out the insoles and stuffed them with newspaper in hopes of drying them out in less than a week. I only got one minor blister but if I never see another puddle again it'll be too soon.
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