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Another Failed DeFo Special

Sometimes the looks of disappointment Spanish speakers give me…

So, the plan this morning was to run the full DeFo Special.

27 miles.

8,000 feet of climbing.

I´ve always managed to find a way to short that mileage.

Usually by running out of snacks. By mile ten. And no one is willing to run with me when I’m snackless.

It´s a skill.

But I felt somewhat committed to the full route this time. Because the weather. Was perfect.

60 degrees. In December.

That´s some globally warmed Virginia type shit right there. I´ll take it.

And on Monday, Dr. Delaney. The love of my life. Had pulled and cracked and twisted all of my body parts back into their proper places.

So I was feeling damn near normal.

We set out at 7am. Beautiful Beastie leading the way.

Tiny Brazilian and Dude With The Charming And Disarming Smile both tried to claim sweeper.

Nah, y’all. Slowest gets dibs.

And I am nothing if not the slowest.

And it was clear. Two miles in. That I had on way too many clothes.

Sweat just rolling just all the places.

But it was pretty. With the sun coming up.

And all the leaves…

Got to the five mile point. Halfway up the mountain. And I was feeling a little less confident about taking on the full route.

Because this mountain.

I mean, it’s not North Mountain level hell.

But it’s close.

And BB is telling Disarming Smile that we haven’t even reached the steep part yet.

Which. Fine. It was true. But holy mother, why am I sweating so much??

And then we’d hit the downhills. The fully runnable downs.

But those rocks.

Were just buried in all those beautiful leaves.

And fuck if I didn’t step on every damn rock out there.

Just rolling my ankle all over the place.

Aggravating an old dog walking injury.

But I kept on going. Just cussing my way through the pain. And sweat. And lack of oxygen.

And then we did get to the steep part.

And Disarming Smile just jet packs right on up.

And I’m all like, this feels like a good time for me to stop. And take some pictures.

And then I crawled my reluctant ass on up.

To the sound of Tiny Brazilian’s watch. Yelling at her. To get off the mountain. And take cover.

And it was getting darker.

And the leaves were blowing sideways across the trail. In front of our faces.

And the fog.

And on the next runnable part. Tiny Brazilian rolls her ankle.

And, I mean, I felt bad for her. I did.


I mean, ok.

Like, I had visions. Of running back down this side of the mountain. In a hurricane.

And those leaves. All wet.

And rocks. All slippery.

I just. Didn’t want to do it.

And I’d been practicing. How I was gonna convince the others to let me dip out. At the AOF parking lot. To take the road back to my car.

But now. With TB injured…

I’m just saying there’s power in numbers.

So she and I slowed way down. To care for her ankle.

And enjoy the protection of this part of the mountain.

And listen to her watch. Say things like, “bitch, I just told you. Get your ass inside the house!”

So when we finally met up with BB and Disarming Smile. And I told them about all of the abusive things TB’s watch was saying to her. And BB explained the radar that Everyone’s Favorite Husband had just reported to her.

No one fought me. On my plan. To cut this run short.

This is why he’s Everyone’s Favorite Husband.

So we released Disarming Smile. To jet pack his way down creek side. Of AOF. And BB helped TB and I pick our way down.

Because those leaves.

It just looks so runnable.

But if you’ve been to the creek side trail. At AOF. You know.

So many rocks.

And we finally hit the parking lot.

And for whatever reason. I allowed BB and TB to convince me this was just a short section of road. To get back over to Jennings Creek.

But I’d just driven this shit a month ago.

This road goes on for-ev-ver.

Which is just so much time. For these two chicks. To come up with just so many ideas. For adventures. And shit.

And I’m not even gonna mention them here. Because there’s one. That I’m hoping. They might just forget about…

And my whole body was hurting.

And I’d jammed all the ankles and knees and hips back into just the wrong places.

And I was very close to asking a bear hunter for a ride. Because the bear hunters love me.

And every time we’d see Jennings Creek. Ahead of us.

It would move. Another 1/2 mile out.

And I just wanted to take my shoes off.

And BB kept making us run. On the road. In trail shoes. So we could get to our cars faster.

But our cars were clearly moving further away from us.

And where the fuck is Disarming Smile?

Why isn’t he coming to pick us up?

And we did finally hit Jennings Creek.

But then it was another mile. Or ten. To get to our actual cars.

And fuck this road.

And seriously. Why isn’t he coming to get us?

And TB was getting hella cranky. Like. Crankier than me.

And I was spending my time fantasizing about what I was gonna get to eat if I ever found my car.

And she was threatening to stab BB with her hiking pole.

And when we finally. Finally. Made it back down to our cars.

I may have lost it a little on Disarming Smile.

The fuck, dude? Why didn’t you come pick us up????

…because BB said you guys were fine.

And I guess my hunger anger. And TB’s sleepless anger. Were a frightening combination.

Because he starts frantically looking through his phone. For text messages. To show us the proof. That he’d tried.

Dude. Next time. Do not text the most badass of us. You text the weakest link. And I will always say yes. Come pick me up. Please.

And bring food.

So that’s how I ended up at the Mexican restaurant.

Where the lady excitedly greets me. And asks me how I am. In Spanish.

And my illegitimately Mexican ass responds. In my native tongue.

And the disappointment. And was that…yep, there was a little bit of judgement there, too.

Her entire soul just fell.

And she handed me my damn food.

And in a desperate attempt to redeem myself. I thanked her. In Spanish.

And she just nodded. Like, bitch, every white girl knows how to say thank you in Spanish. I ain’t impressed.

And I wanted to say, well I just ran 20 miles up and down a mountain. So…

No no. You’re right. I’m a disappointment.

It was supposed to be 27 miles.


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Just reading and writing and running and looking for my happy place.

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