Boney Mountain Half Marathon

The Exterra Boney Mountain Half Marathon trail run was a blistering run of unforgiving treachery and indescribable beauty. We tracked straight up mountain sides only to come screaming down the back side only to track straight up another mountain side only to come screaming down the other back side only to…… and so it went for 13.2 miles.

At the bell Steve took off like a pack of wild dingo’s were after him. Mike was running the 5K so he was of no consequence. Elsa looked fresh as she immediately passed me kicking dust in my eyes. I humbly and meekly started out slowly and gingerly, after all I was physically ill and mentally ill prepared for this broke-back back-break mountain. The wind was howling and whipping at near hurricane force if it was a gale at all, my friends. How fickle was I to have cursed it with one breath only to embrace it with another. When confronted with its fury it was a bitter and hated enemy but at my back a sweet and dear friend. With head bowed and slave to the wind I cursed it one second and smiled with it the next. I slowly plodded my way up and down broke-back mountain, oops, I mean, back-broke mountain.

I caught Elsa at eight miles, sure she tried to trip me but I was ready for any and all diabolical and devious exploits she could offer, her ill conceived scheme was easily foiled. Dealing with Steve, however, that took a little contemplation as he now fancies himself a contender. Sure, he reads book upon book about trickery and tricksterism, he maybe a worthy opponent in the courtroom, but the race track is the real world and well outside the courts jurisdiction. Here he has no papa judge to protect him, no court tails to hide behind. In the race world I am not bound to the rules of civil and criminal procedure, there are no civil rights out here, jungle law rules the day. Out here on these trails, his tears are the only comfort he'll embrace as my shoulder can only shrug any and all pleas for mercy. The only set of rules that I subscribe to in the race world are those prescribed by complete and utter "Victory."

I caught Steve on a hill at the ten mile mark and like Felix the Cat he had his bag of tricks ready. I was extra nimble and tip-toe wiry as I approached him with extreme caution and apprehension, but all for not. The tacks on the road, the releasing and cause of oil slicks, enducing small rock slides, turning direction signs the other way, and the verbal rope-a-dope tactics were all “old school.” I chuckled and whistled while I worked at undermining and countering every thrust and parry that my (half) witted buddy Steve could muster.

As he finally lay down in utter defeat, I at last was able to set one foot upon his chest and two fists in the air while yelling “VICTORY” at the top of my lungs. The gdass hoppa was unable to snatch the pea from the master’s hand that fine day.

On the serious side, it was a hard trail run with wonderful strong wind and beautiful scenery. We had a fun day and I really enjoyed the company of Steve, Mike, and Elsa. Exterra trail runs are all set in scenic locations, get on line and check them out. In the future I plan on running most of them, perhaps you can join me.