I can’t call week #2/3 of the training an epic fail when I had two really good runs. It all started with missing the boat to Monhegan. Yes, this island girl missed her boat. That’s what happens when you think 5.5 hours is enough time for a 4 hour trip but you forget it’s a Saturday, it’s a holiday weekend and, and. And! One word: Wiscassett. Or, to be more precise, not Wiscassett. More like Red’s. We missed boarding by 20 minutes. And I missed my long run of Week #2.
Bombing up the coast of Maine at breakneck speed is never fun, especially when there is one last boat we could potentially make. I had flashbacks to the woman who careened down to that same wharf three summers ago and ended up injuring three and killing a nine year old boy. We made it without striking anyone down. The point of this story is that we were three hours late getting onto the island and unpacked. I was supposed to run six miles that same day but I was stressed, exhausted and completely out of time. There was no way I would get in even the smallest of runs.
Week #3 started a day early with an early Sunday run. How can I explain this to anyone who hasn’t been there before? I had mentioned in an earlier post that I was interested in seeing if I could run a trail to the end. I ended up running two trails from my childhood so I got the best of everything: dirt roads, pine needle deep forest, salt air seaside cliffs, mossy rock and root trails and of course, the silent graveyard. No run is complete with a small stop to see dad.
This was the route in its entirety: Lobster to Wyeth, passing a gaggle of bird watchers. Casey’s to the Trailing Yew, the smell of fresh donuts in the air. Main road to both beaches, super high tides. Wharf hill to the school. I could hear a lecture as I passed the open windows. NEW: behind the school to the Ice Pond. Down the boardwalk to Pratt’s. Back out to Dead Man’s Cove and out to Black Head (yes, I made it all the way). Up to the lighthouse and halfway to White Head (turned around because of three unleashed dogs). Detour to dad. Left a daisy. Horn’s Hill to the new turnaround. Music going up HH? Straight To Hell by the Clash. How perfect. Halfway to Burnt Head (stopped because I was nearly at mile 5). Down to Mostel’s turnaround and back up past the Yew. Now bacon instead of donuts. A nod to the still-closed brewery and home. 6.12 total.
Two days later I did the exact same route only going a little further on White Head and Burnt Head trails. Camp Kawanhee was in the ball field. Weird to run by their whispering tents and think of all that hormonal boy stuff that must be going on inside. A small smile and a great run: 6.36 total. Good to be home.