That Time I Accidentally Ran 15 Miles

I accidentally ran 15 miles yesterday.

In my defense, maps don’t really offer accurate mileage descriptions.

See what happened was. Y’all responded. En masse. To my depression and anxiety post.

And a lot of y’all are runners.

And I’m not gonna lie. That had me a little shook.

Like, running and exercise generates serotonin and shit. Which is what the depression meds are for. And if y’all still suffering. Even with all the extra endorphins and serotonin and shit. Then…how much worse would it be without all the extra?

So that was enough to force me to get my ass out on a mountain Sunday. Even if I had to do it alone.

And here is why I don’t generally strike out on my own.

So I had some brand new fresh out of the box Solomon trail shoes to break in. And I wanted to try running up Gauntlet. Before next weekend’s Conquer the Cove.

I’ve never run up Gauntlet. Only down. And I hate running down Gauntlet. So I wanted to see if it’s just as awful running up.

It is.

Now, so we’re clear. I did do Gauntlet yesterday. But I still haven’t run up Gauntlet. I’ve gone up Gauntlet. With a little running thrown in. Here and there.

But mostly I just climbed Gauntlet.


But first I had to get to Gauntlet.

And I don’t know if you’ve met me. But I have a weird relationship with parking. It causes me a lot of stress. And I don’t like to pay for it.

(For real, parking issues will fuck up my entire day. I don’t know why. Adding that one to the list for my therapist…)

So I planned a route that would allow me to park for free. At Orange Market.

And I studied the maps beforehand. To be sure I knew where I was going. And approximately how far it would be. So I could plan hydration. And snacks.

And I decided that running down Timberview over to Gauntlet up to Brushy over to Hinchee and back down to Orange Market would be…about 8 miles or so. Ten max.

Quiet, Skratch.


I can hear all of you.

Just stop.

In my defense, none of the maps tell you how long Timberview is.

And when you use your fingers to measure the distance of Gauntlet and hold them over Timberview…for comparison…I don’t know. I got, like, a mile and a half. Or so.


So five miles. Of road running. In brand new fresh from the box Solomon trail shoes…from Satan…apparently…

Had to stop at Timberview parking lot to remove one of them. And try to stop the bleeding that was happening. At several points on my foot.

It didn’t help.

Finally managed to make my way to Gauntlet and started the climb.

I was already sweating uncontrollably. And the water in my hydration pack was luke warm. And half gone. So I wasn’t seeing real clear when I rounded a corner and saw this.

Tell me that’s not some Lord of the Rings Harry Potter giant arachnid Aragog shit right there.

Peed myself a little.

But that’s actually pretty normal.

I was about 7 or 8 miles in and down to about a 1/3 of my warm warm water left by the time I made it up to Brushy.

Seven or eight miles…

That…can’t be right…

But I figured it was just a quick hop across Brushy and then a mile or so down Hinchee and I could take these damn shoes off before they tore all of the skin off of my feet.

And get an ice cold Poweraide from the Orange Market. Because fuck this warm ass water.

It’s not though.

It’s not just a quick hop across Brushy.

It’s, like, another five miles.

The fuck…


But then Hinchee is another mile. Or two…


So that’s how I accidentally ran 15 miles.

By the time I got back to my car and pulled off Satan’s Solomons. My left sock was blood soaked.

And I couldn’t really feel any of the serotonin that bullshit was supposed to have generated.

Probably because it got reuptooken so fast. Due to my lack of hydration. And snacks.

Like, my brain can’t even just let me have the serotonin I just accidentally ran 15 miles to make.

The fuck, brain.

I made that shit!

(For those of you that didn’t take a semester of Physiological Psych in undergrad, Reuptooken is what happens to the serotonin that’s making you all sad and shit. Those greedy ass receptors start pulling that shit back in as soon as it’s released so no one else can use it. Greedy little fuckers. It’s what the meds try to stop. So, I’m hoping they help next time I fuck around and accidentally run a marathon or some shit. So that I can at least keep all of my serotonin. That I made.)

(Feel free to cite me in your next psych paper. Because my science is real.)

Anyway. Fifteen miles and a climb up Gauntlet. I’m all trained up for CtC.

But I’m leaving Satan’s Solomons at home. Because I can’t afford to keep buying new socks.

Leave a Reply