A little later, I take the stairs up to the Pipe Bridge two at a time, feeling strong after the Wonderland Run in August, but I’m forced to slow down on the slippery metal bridge. The pack thins, and this section is smooth and runnable. I’ve memorised the course and know it’s only about 2km to the Pipe Bridge so I go with the fast pace. We’re running on long, rough grass and when my friend Chris comes up behind me and says hi, I can’t look up at him for fear I’ll fall over a hundred meters into the race. Soon the countdown and start horn, and then we’re off fast. I feel energetic and light, and there have been no family fights this year. We’ve had two weeks of school holidays, where I’ve reduced my usual sport (no weight lifting or swimming), and have simply run. After finishing that race, I cried in the dark, alone, for the many difficulties of life, so I never blogged about it. And last year, I did the long course, after flying in from the Gold Coast the same day and having a huge battle with my kids to even get to the start. I put the fear to one side: there was no point in being scared.
#Night moves turf club full#
Not when I’d face-planted a few weeks before in full daylight on a smooth trail. Not so funny when that’s actually what you’re afraid of. He joked – “What of? Falling over and smashing your head on a rock in the dark?” Yup. Right before we set off, I admitted to my husband that I was nervous. What were we doing, running trails in the dark? What form of group madness was this? And why was it so much fun? It was at Yarra Bend, a suburban park bisected by the Yarra River on a Saturday night, and there was a great big party going on in an open field, complete with lights, drink, food, music, and runners of every description whose point of commonality was their glowing smiles. We were running Race 5 (medium course, 10.6km) of The Trail Running Series, the last of these epic blasts for the year.
Within the small pool of light from my head torch, I was running as fast as I could, slaloming around turns, dancing over rocks and tree roots, and once in a while, when the trail flattened, bolting like a racehorse out of the starting gate. The trail was narrow and studded with rocks that appeared unpredictability. A heart-soaring, adrenalin-pumping, crazy race to the soul. Like the night race of The Trail Running Series. But then there are the moments that make your heart soar. So much of life is mundane: buy the groceries, do the laundry, feed the kids, maintain the garden.
0 kommentar(er)
