The family and I are visiting Brian's Aunt and Uncle in Georgia for the weekend (it's spring break). I took Friday and Monday off and treated myself to some much needed rest. True to Murphy's law, there was a deluge of rain Friday and Saturday. Not too ideal for driving, and downright prohibitive for running. Hence Brian and I slogged to the gym on Fort Benning on Saturday. It's a fantastic, HUGE gym, but there is truly little that is more miserable than running on a treadmill. I thought I'd make it a bit more interesting with some hill intervals. But I soon came to the conclusion that hill intervals are even more depressing on a treadmill because there is no down hill. Anyway, we headed home and hoped for better weather in the AM.
Okay, for this next part, you are ONLY allowed to keep reading if you agree to never ever EVER chastise me about judgments made herein. Seriously. If you are at all one of those people who simply can not allow questionable decisions made by others go without comment then just stop now. I'm really doing you a favor, trust me.
Fortunately, Sunday dawned with gorgeous weather, although maybe a little chilly. Uncle Denny was going out to walk the dogs along the Chattahoochee river, and I tagged along. I figured I could run 2 miles one way, then turn around and run 10 the other way to meet up with the family at the Fort Benning playground. In retrospect, there were numerous indications that running along a river might have been a bad idea at this particular juncture (for example, the extensive flooding in North Dakota that has been so prominently in the news might have been seen as foreshadowing, but I generally try not to view my life as a novel.... rather I tend to find the "potential amusing blog post" vantage point much more comfortable. Additionally, the 2 preceding days of hard rain should have tipped me off). I blithely set off with my iphone set to track the run. I don’t usually run with my iphone, but thought it would be nice to have along in case of emergency. This riverwalk is really a nice running/biking path (much different from the riverwalk in San Antonio), and there were lots of other families and bikers out enjoying the balmy weather. After almost 2 miles, I did come upon an impasse in the road. Water was completely over this part of the trail. No great loss, though, I was due to turn around anyway. I snapped a picture gathered up the ID and earbuds that came unraveled from my pocket and went along my merry way. I did feel bad about only going 1.9 miles, instead of 2 (it's a problem, I know) so I took the opportunity to run up and down (a couple of times each) any flights of stairs I came across. Later I came across a pretty covered boardwalk, snapped another picture, thinking "wow, this is going to be a great run, how lucky I am to have such beautiful scenery to run in".
About a mile or two down the path, I came to yet another section that was blocked by the overflowing river. There was a steep but easily accessible path up the bank, so it would be easily circumvented. I pulled out my iphone to snap another picture, and while replacing it in its pocket, noticed that something was conspicuously absent - my ID. Great. So, I headed BACK to the site of my last picture, fervently hoping that some well meaning cyclist hadn't picked it up to mail to its rightful owner. Sure enough, there it was, exactly were I'd left it. I was replacing it in my pocket when I happened to notice the "low battery" warning on my iphone (yes, I planned poorly all around for this run). So I quickly phoned Brian to let him know that my phone was dead and I would likely be delayed by detours around flooded running paths. I had no sooner hung up the phone when my iphone ceased to function. Oh well, I was pretty sure how far I had to go to get to the base. I headed South along the riverwalk to the spot where the river was over the path, scrambled the 20 foot climb (practically a path in itself) up the bank, and continued on the sidewalk up there for a bit until the path down on the riverwalk was dry again. Piece of cake. I ran another little bit, waving to the fishermen out that morning, then came to another impasse. Just as before, I scrambled up the side to drier ground. This stretch was significantly longer, and as I trotted along, jumping over humongous ant piles and trying not to sprain my ankles in the random gopher holes, I couldn't help but notice how pathetically shallow the water over the sidewalk was below. I could clearly see the sidewalk underneath it, and judging from the scant bit of bottoms of the trashcans that were being lapped by the water, it couldn't have been more than a couple of inches deep. Hence I felt quite silly leaping over soggy, pockmarked terrain. Finally, the trail cleared again, and I scrambled back down to run on dry ground. After another mile or so I came to the next impasse. I could almost see the other side of this one, and judging from the lamp post in the middle, the water was only shin deep. But still, once again I scampered up the embankment... only to find that I couldn't keep going (I don't really remember why. I've oddly blocked that part out completely). There was a wooden fence between me and an apartment complex. So, I figured maybe it was time to abandon the riverwalk in lieu of higher ground. Fortunately, part of the ground under the fence was washed out. So, like the Pokey Little Puppy, I scooted underneath it and was back up and running before any of the residents could come out and suggest that maybe I was trespassing. Turns out, there was no high and dry sidewalk along this part of the Riverwalk, but only a dead end and a residential area. And this was not just any residential area, this was one of those, chain-link-around-the-front-lawns of very dilapidated houses, Beat-up-cars with those fancy spinney tires and everyone shocked as all get-out to see someone running down the street as they slowly drove by with palpitation-inducing base spilling from their oh so darkly tinted windows. No problem, really, ahhh, not nervous at all, just trying to run confidently like I really belong there and am not nervous about this situation at all. After I realized that there was no way in hell that I was going to make it back down to some other part of the riverwalk if I kept going, I turned back, looped around and made my way back to where I came from, feeling silly for not just splashing along through the water. This was really getting to be a frightening neighborhood, and although most of the human residents were still in their houses, all the canine ones were definitely up and ready to greet me - with a growl and string of yelps to remind me "COME EVEN ONE FOOT CLOSER, REALLY, I DARE YOU. COME ON, JUST LOOK AT ME AND I'LL CLAW THROUGH THIS FENCE AND SHOW YOU!" Of course, then Doggie B in that yard would take these comments of Doggie A personally, and snarl a "OH YEAH? YOU WANT A PIECE OF THIS" and next thing I knew they would be on their hind feet trying to remove the trachea from the opposing doggie's neck. At about this point, I began to mentally compose my will. (Really. Kristen, I bequeathed you my spot in the Boston Marathon. You can just take my ID (they'll find it in my back pocket with the damn out-of-battery iphone) and tell them you've lost a lot of weight since that picture was taken when you were pregnant, oh, and you cut your hair since then. But they never really look at those pictures anyway. But then you'd have to run the marathon under my name... maybe you could just say you're doing it in memory of your poor friend who was eaten by pit bulls in an unsavory part of Georgia).
I finally made it back to the apartment complex, scooted under the fence and back down to the riverwalk to take another good look at that flooded section. I checked my iphone. Yup, still nonfunctional, so I stashed it back in my back pocket. From what I could tell, the water was only going to be around my knees for about 10 feet. So, with a sigh about my brand new Brooks running shoes (this was only the second time I'd worn them, and I'm auditioning them for the honored role of Boston Marathon shoe) I slogged into the cold, muddy water. As the water reached my shins I thought "This isn't SO bad", then as it got up to my knees I had to slow to a walk and thought "HMMN. I wasn't expecting it to be this high quite so soon." Then as it crept up to mid thigh I realized my iphone was in danger, and just tried to hold it up, still in my shorts pocket so it would be out of the water, because surely I was near the middle. Then I quickly realized maybe it was best to just remove the iphone and ID from my shorts and put them in my jog bra. The ID made it into my bra, but I began to think this may not be the safest place for the iphone, as water was now at my waist and lapping the bottom of said bra. Shortly after, when the water was to my armpits, I remembered one key piece of information. I don't know why it is, but it's always about 2 minutes after the information would have been useful that I actually recall it. About 2 miles back, while leaping over ant piles and downed trees, I also leapt over a downed sign. It read "CAUTION. ALLIGATOR HABITAT" Once I recalled this tidbit, I began to mutter "OH S*!@T! OH S@*!T! OH S@!*T!” (although I actually may have been yelling, who knows) as I frantically tried to run (not so easy in chest deep, 40 degree water), look all around me for that ominous black reptile I was sure would be making it's way towards me, hold my iphone safely overhead and wonder if all this thrashing/running was more likely to draw the carnivorous reptiles my way. After I finally made it to dry ground, I wrung out and retied the shirt around my waist, and tried to look nonchalant. "Look, there's a biker!" Surely this meant it was all dry path from here on out. As I approached the biker (he was adjusting the gear in his bike trailer), he queried as to the pass-ability of the way I'd just came. I warned him not to try it, and then asked about the path up ahead. I could now see there was water over it, but figured since he'd come through it must be decently passable. "Ah, no" he slurred "it's completely flooded that way."
Wait a minute. If it's flooded from where I came, and flooded where I'm going HOW DID THE DRY BIKER GET WHERE WE ARE NOW? In retrospect, I think he may have lived there, but I didn't really want to stick around and puzzle it out. I cautiously trotted up to the edge of the next impasse, but decided maybe it was best not to try my luck a second time(I really and truly am adverse to reptiles, they give me the heebee geebees like nothing else). So, up the side of the riverbank I went... again. This time it was not some nice little trail or grassland, but utter woodlands. There was dense brush, dead and downed trees, crumbling embankments, dead leaves, and those annoying thorny vines that I somehow ALWAYS run into. They sting, they draw blood, they leave lovely scars. Oh, and did I mention the MUD and the crumbling embankment? And all of this I had to traverse one handed, because I had at present NO DRY SPOT to stash the iphone (yes, I do absolutely love my iphone.) At one particularly steep and crumbly part I considered lobbing the phone to the top and then using both hands to climb after it, but realized it was highly likely I wouldn’t make it up there, and didn’t want to go through all this AND loose my phone. But still, all was going (relatively) well, until I came upon a random 6 foot chain link fence running through the wilderness. (At this point I considered checking my iphone again, but I couldn't think of how I was going to tell Brian where to find me "Well, I was on this street named Howe, and now I think I'm somewhere in some woods between that street and the river. Landmarks? Ah, there's lots of big trees and a turtle trying to crawl through this big chain link fence.") I begrudgingly stashed my iphone in my now soggy jog bra, wedged the toe of my brand-new and equally soggy running shoe into one of the chain-link holes and hoisted myself to the top. Chain link is not so forgiving to the hands, but fortunately I was so cold that they were mostly numb and tingly. Unfortunately, right at the top, I got a massive charley horse in my hoisting leg. I believe I probably uttered a few more expletives at this point, and then balanced precariously on my butt at the top of the fence while dorsiflexing my foot and trying to make sure there was nothing on my person that would snag the fence when I leapt to the other side, thus causing real injury to what was likely to be an ungraceful descent. I untied the now not only soggy but also muddy (from sliding down an embankment or two) shirt from my waist and tossed it ahead of me (right into a mess of snarly vines, too. Bummer.) Then leapt to the ground - and miraculously managed not to sprain my ankle in the process (and a sprained ankle would be bad because it would be really hard to recover from before Boston). So, after much more traipsing, cursing and hoping like hell I didn't run into any scary people in the woods, I finally made it to an open field, across which I could see the SAME NEIGHBORHOOD I JUST ESCAPED FROM! At this point, I didn't care, I ran directly across, through big puddles of standing water (only up to my ankles, so it's all good), climbed through a couple of trees and downed barbed wire fence and then just kept right on running - past all the open-mouthed residents sitting on their car in the driveway nearby. I was trying for all the world to still look as if this was NOTHING out of the ordinary, and I was not absolutely out of place. Alright, now my mission on this run had completely shifted. Somewhere in the woods I realized I was probably NOT going to make it to the base to meet Brian and the kids. At this point all I wanted to do was find a public place, ANY public place with a telephone. So, I nonchalantly ran along, trying to look like I knew exactly where I was going, while at the same time trying to discern from the lay of the land and the traffic pattern HOW THE HELL I WAS GOING TO GET OUT OF HERE! I finally found my mecca! A strip mall! YAY! I even spotted a pay phone. Fortunately, I'd stashed a 20 in my jog bra before I set off, but unfortunately I now had to find change. I ran straight past the laundromat (it had a scary sign in the door that read CUSTOMERS ONLY, and although I sorely needed a washer and dryer, I didn't think they'd appreciate me stripping down in the middle of the laundromat, especially when all I really wanted was change), then I ran past the "Sword of Fire International Church" and into a Korean Restaurant. As you may expect, being soaked, muddy and covered with scrapes and brambles, I was shooed right back out the door and directed to the "convenience store" down the way. Turns out, this convenience store was actually a Mexican grocery, and every single person in there was shocked to see me (although, I think I may have appeared somewhat shocking at that time to ANYONE). I made a couple of laps around the store looking for a gatorade, then settled on a Mango "Boing!" soda, collected my change, plus "tres dolares en... ah... quarters?" And headed back to the pay phone. I deposited my dollar and called Brian - and left a message. I was careful to emphasize the intersection I was stranded at, and must have sounded a little desperate. After I hung up, I sincerely wished I'd just kept the scrap of paper with Uncle Denny's cell phone number on it rather than being an iphone smarty pants and transferring it into my list of contacts - now unavailable to me in my outta juice phone. I tried directory assistance a couple of times (BUSY?!), contemplated calling Brian's parents and having them call Aunt Cathy. But then I couldn't remember their phone number either, and the thought of calling my parents to explain the situation and then having them call Brian's parents who would in turn call Aunt Cathy just sounded too much like that telephone game we used to play when we were kids (when the first person whispers "camping out is lots of fun" and it winds up being "happiness wears itchy buns" by the time it gets whispered to the end), so I just called Brian again. This time he answered and said "WHERE are you?" Somehow they managed to locate my obscure intersection, and picked me up.
So, all is well that ends well, I suppose, and I really only got a few scrapes, a couple of splinters, a sore calf (from the charley horse) and some mild PTSD from the imaginary alligator. I related my story to the crew in the car, and we had no sooner gotten home than Uncle Denny had called up his daughter in DC to tell the tale. He then gave the phone to me, and Carrie related "You know, I've only been in that river 3 times, and 2 of those time I saw snakes - cottonmouths." Okay, I may be trepidacious regarding alligators, but snakes are a whole other level of fear and loathing. I suddenly had these obtrusive mental images of looking behind me and seeing a sleek, black snake slitheringly swimming towards me as I was chest deep in muddy water. I managed to placate myself with thoughts that it was really too cold and too early for snakes to be out. I mentioned as much while we were eating lunch. Helpful to a fault, Aunt Cathy cheerfully replied, "Oh, no it's not, we've had lots of 80 degree days, that's plenty for snakes to be up and about, shedding their skins and protecting their nests." Umm. Thanks for clearing that up. I later googled "venomous snakes of the Chattahoochee" sure that I'd find I was really never in any danger - only to find that cottonmouths are actually pit vipers, quite deadly and remarkably aggressive and territorial. Yipes.
And I'd only made 11 miles, not the 12 I'd planned. Of course, considering all that running through armpit deep water, scaling muddy riverbanks and 6 foot fences and mental anguish... I'm calling it good. And just in case you don't think I meant it about not chastising me... anyone who does will be heavily fined. All proceeds to go to Fisher House, of course.
