Seven Sisters Trail Race – 2018 edition

My legs are so sore that I expect them to be purple, like a hard-earned bruise. Or, at the least, beet red because they’re angry with me because of the abuse I inflicted upon them yesterday when I completed my third consecutive Seven Sisters Trail Race with my lunarb*tch, Chrissy. Man, I am hurting, but, just like yesterday, I’m smiling.

There’s something about this brutally challenging event that keeps us coming back even though we know 1. exactly how hard it’s going to be, 2. we’re never going to remotely competitive and 3. it’s a 90+ minutes drive that commences way too early in the morning. I think they call it being a masochist adventurous. Going into the race yesterday, we both had agreed this was our last time. There are other races and challenges and we’ve been fortunate to avoid injury on a course that is pretty damn perilous. But….

We arrived in Amherst at 7:30 a.m. and felt relaxed. The morning was crisp and bright and we got to witness a couple of fox kits romping on the hill near the parking lot. It was almost a reminder of how fun it is to be outdoors and in the woods and running. We ran in the last wave and found a pace that had us moving forward but without haste. There were photo opportunities to be indulged and the views were clearer than we’ve ever seen them. It was a spectacular day weather-wise and, in general, the conditions were ideal.

The 6 miles in didn’t register as too difficult. I felt pretty good and enjoyed cheering the returning elite runners as they made their way back with remarkable speed. Everyone we encountered was friendly and encouraging. It isn’t really possible to describe how extreme this race is – the areas that are steep and woven with tree roots and shale, the sections where you literally have to scramble using feet and hands, the parts when a missed step could result in a really negative outcome…it’s absolutely wild! 

Things fell apart a bit for me in the last couple of miles when I ran out of water and my legs were completely depleted of spring. There was nothing left – other than the ability to keep moving forward at a snail’s pace. And smile.

Following the race we returned to the excellent market just down the road, Atkins. We ate everything we wanted to and brought stuff home, as well. Today, my muscles are tender in a profound way – and not just my quads and calves. Nope, my forearms hurt, as do the sides of my ribs. There’s a little sunburn on my neck, too, but overall I’m good, despite my traditional trail-run-left-ankle-roll at mile 8 or 9. No permanent damages, just a lot of joy and pride in an accomplishment.

When I had my third (and biggest) baby I said “I’m so happy that I never have to do that again.” The Seven Sisters, bitches that they may be, haven’t quite compelled me to say the same about them.