T March 14, 2006 short run 4 miles
Time: 4:00pm Temperature: ?° Precipitation: overcast, could start to drizzle at any time. Of course I am in the Rain Forest so that is probably nothing new.
Length: 50minutes
Route: There: Some of the minutes
Back: The rest of the minutes
Dogs:
5 Other Joggers: 1
Signs of Spring: Hard to say as this was the first time I was really taking in all the sights.
Thoughts: Holy f*** I hate dogs. But here's the story…Once upon a time on the shores of Lake Quinault…
It is Tuesday so I am scheduled for a run. Now that I am a novice there is no question that I will go on the run but this is new terrain for me so I need to check some things out. As I was registering for my room, the woman behind the desk suggested that I just go up the road. "Many joggers run along this road, 4 miles up it turns into a dirt road," she says. Well, I am not going to be running that far so I figure it will do. On the way to my room, I see a jogger going up the very road suggested which I take as a good sign. (I never did see that jogger again). Once in my room my determination wavers. There is a television you see. I don't see much TV unless I am traveling. But I am a novice runner now and cannot be dissuaded from the running plan. Off I go.
Not knowing the distances, I set my watch timer for 11:30. Every time it beeps I have probably run a mile. I usually don't have a problem counting up to 4. This is where the story gets good. I see a sign to the "Worlds Largest Spruce Tree 0.3 miles." I think, hey this would make good blog fodder. The tree is right off the road down a short, muddy, winding path. And there it is, a really big tree. Truthfully, I expected more. It was certainly big around but it was short. It looked like the top was knocked off. The sign tells me that this tree is estimated at to be 1,000 years old. Now I'm thinking okay I've seen some 90 year olds start to shrink. Who knows how short they would become if they were 1,000years old. 1000 is more than 10 time 90. So maybe this tree is impressive. And then I start to think, "Is this what Sarah means when she says that I write about different stuff?" Now I have to turn around and go back to the road. Jogging around the clearing, at one point I look down. I notice that I am stepping on pine cones. Seeing my foot come down on a cluster pine cones suddenly reminds of a movie scene. Did you see the scene in Men In Black when Will Smith steps on the cockroaches to piss off the big cockroach alien? All of a sudden I look up at what is now a HUGE pine tree and expect one of it's 1,000 year old scraggly branches to reach out and protect its young. It doesn't move. I think it is laughing at my fear.
Back on the road. My watch has yet to beep. I run some more. I am running along South Shore Road which runs along the south shore of Lake Quinault which is located in the Rain Forest, so I have some scenery to look at. The road is pretty narrow with no real shoulder but there is also no traffic so I feel pretty safe. (Now that I have escaped from the killer tree). Hey look over there, a herd of Elk. Wha'dayaknow. This is not an everyday sight. That is quite a herd. I have never seen more than 5 or 6 deer in one field. Isn't it spring? Don't wild animals get frisky in the spring. Do you think they think I am some new sort of blue Elk? Do you think they will attack me? Do you think they can even see me?
As these thoughts are streaming through my head I hear, off in the distance, a dog barking. My brain has lost all thought and fear of Elk threat and has now focused on the dog running full speed through the field across the road. I am hoping that the dog is just protecting its property and is warning me to stay on my side of the road. Which is just what I do. And I keep running. My heart is beating a bit faster than normal. My watch beeps. I run. My watch beeps again. I run. I really have to turn around, but I really don't want to go running past that dog again. I formulate the plan to stay on the right side of the road past the dog property. There have been a few cars but mostly going up the road so I should be okay. I turn around. I don't even remember where the dog property is. Oh, there are some Elk so it must be…yes, there it is but no dog. Maybe the dog is in having it's supper. No here it comes. It cleverly waited until I was more than halfway past. I just run. The dog is simply protecting it's territory. I am on the other side of the magic road. And I am already past the house. He should stop any second now. Oh great! It is a corner lot. He is not stopping, he is running down the drive way to the other side of the yard. And now he is running down the road about three feet behind me. For some mysterious reason I start repeating, "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay." I am not sure why I am saying this. Or what I would start to say if the dog actually bit me. Just then a car comes along and I pray for the dog to get hit. The next time I look back the dog is not there. I take stock of myself. This is a test and I have passed. I am a novice runner! I start to think of the motel room, the TV, the beer with dinner, the hot shower, all this awaits me as reward for my trials. It begins to drizzle. I don't care, I am a novice runner.
Bark! Dammit, not another #$%$ DOG. No, two dogs. Here they come right across the magic road. Apparently they can't see the line separating the public road from their dogdom. I stop. I am no longer a novice runner. I am scared out of my wits and start to back into the field. One of the dogs comes right up to me hackles raised, growling, barking and baring his teeth. There is nowhere for me to go. And I just stepped in a puddle. I look at the dog. I know now that I am going to be eaten. I think, I have no ID on me, how will they identify the body? And I say, "GO HOME." Of course it comes out as, "go home." The dog is confused by this. I say it louder and the dogs go back across the road. As soon as I walk back towards the road they come running again. I start shouting at them to stay. Finally some one in the house hears me and calls to the dogs. And I start running again. Suddenly home is further away than it should be. It is drizzly, my foot is wet, I am cold, my timing plan is messed up. It is small comfort that I am alive with all limbs intact.
It has just got to end right? No, I am running along past a cyclist who is stopped by the mailbox. She says to me, "He doesn't bite." Who doesn't bite? Not another dog? How can this be? Here he comes bounding out of the woods. I stand there and let him sniff me for a moment and then I slowly walk away. He is a good dog but I am so terrified that I think this fear will set him off. I make it back to my motel room longing for my seaside trail where all the dogs are on leashes.
