After a lethargic Saturday where five consecutive days of pushing myself caught up to me, I woke up determined to log an early morning long run on Sunday.
I departed San Francisco for the Dipsea Steps bright and early at 6:30AM, and was greeted by a rare sight – I was the only person in the parking lot; Bay Area locals can relate to the elation that comes with finding a coveted spot anywhere around Muir Woods on the weekend. My goal was simple: cover as much terrain as possible in 2.5 hours without overdoing it.
With the exception of waking up and scaling 688 steps, the equivalent of a forty story building, my run was extremely pleasant for the first few miles, and then things took a turn for the weird. As I crested the ridge-line on the Dipsea fire trail, I saw a set of four legs, then another, and two more until I realized that I crossed paths with a pack of four coyotes hungry for breakfast (sorry Taylor). I was going to blow my whistle and make myself appear as big as possible if they inched closer, but fortunately, they scurried off into the bushes as I ran past.
As my turnaround time grew closer, I decided that I would run to the redwood grove above Stinson Beach – my favorite section of the trail, which would put me right around 11 miles and 3000′ of vertical round trip. The return trip felt much easier than the first leg, and I was getting really excited for the big day. I broke into full stride – 7 minutes per mile downhill, and then it happened: I rolled my ankle and heard a loud pop.
I opted to finish the run since I was alone in the woods early in the morning, but as soon as I got home, my foot became swollen, discolored, and I could barely put weight on it. I’m scheduling an appointment for an X-ray this afternoon, but for now, I’m on the sidelines indefinitely. If yesterday’s run does end my season, at least it was a good one: I logged 11 miles and gained 3100′ of vertical, almost covering the entire Double Dipsea course in the process. I was on pace to break my 2011 Double Dipsea time by a few minutes with substantially less effort. I won’t jump to conclusions, and certainly won’t be jumping anytime soon: see the picture of me with my foot in a pot.