Beware of the Ostrich ... this ain't no Bull!

Running is always a bit of an adventure. Everyone who has spent a good amount of time running has stories to tell. Having been a runner my entire life, I have plenty to tell. Some stories really stand out and this is one of them.

In the past I’ve had trouble being diligent with my training. It’s the pain that accompanies hard training that I try to avoid. So I’ve procrastinated and found myself being satisfied with a weak training program. Good results reinforced my laziness. My best year ever has left me wondering what kind of potential I have. I don’t have many prime years left, so I’ve committed myself to 2009.

With my commitment, I find myself doing the usual scheming, but have really been training. I’m not talking about just getting out there and jogging around the lake every day. I’m working hard!

Part of any program is a long run. It’s the most important run of the week. A long run for me is typically six miles. I should be ashamed of that, but on occasion I’ll get out and run as much as twelve, but that happens maybe a month or two apart.

I’m actually on a scheduled training plan, which had me running 17 miles the other day. Racing triathlon gives me a good aerobic base, so I can actually handle a marathon. I started this run at my parent’s house, not too far from here. It was a cool morning with calm winds and clear skies, which made the run pretty enjoyable. I plodded along at a comfortable pace, concerning myself only with finishing. After all, this was only about building my base.

The miles gradually wore on me since I’m in the beginning of my base building after a year-end break. More than I’d like to admit, I was starting to suffer a bit. My legs were getting tired, my feet didn’t totally love the nearly two-hours of pounding and my energy was getting a bit low. So my spirits were lifted as I neared the turn onto my parent’s road. After the turn it would be just 1.12 miles before I was done.

As I rounded the corner, my eyes were drawn, locked in really, to something standing in my path. I’m not an expert, so I wasn’t sure if it was an Ostrich or an Emu. I learned about them at a drive-through safari in Texas. An Ostrich is bigger and has just two toes vs. three. I’m not sure if it was surprise or fear, but I forgot to check the feet. These birds can be mean and can run 30 MPH. I can be mean too, but I can’t run 30 MPH … not even downhill. I have trouble biking 30 MPH, so at mile 16, I was pretty sure I was at a disadvantage.

Being tired and wanting little more than to be done, I found myself with two options: go the other way or try to get around the bird. The “other way” was 6.5 miles, so I chose to try to get around the bird. It was tall, had a big beak, dark eyes and was staring right at me. I used to be a football player and sprinter, but managed to keep the attitude. I was pretty sure I could get around the bird. If not, I was going to kick it’s … well, you know.

I moved right and it mirrored me. I moved left and it did too. He wasn’t going to let me pass. I don’t know if it was a he, but it’s my story and I’ll call it a he if I want to. Thinking quickly, I plan to juke to one side, then dart to the other and get past this hostile defender as I kick in the afterburners and run past at full speed. The plan worked as I quickly found myself sprinting down the right side of the road. As it turns out, the bird must be a competitor too. He turned around and ran along side me, looking comfortable as he stared me down.

I had nothing more, which was apparently disappointing to him. He must have wanted more of a race than I could provide. After about 50m, which seemed like forever, he veered sharply toward me to make me pay for being weak competition. As it turns out, I wasn’t as brave as I thought and decided that I’d rather try to run away than kick his … well, you know. The competitor in me wanted to see what this monster could do, so I jumped the barb wire fence to the field to my right. As you can imagine, there wasn’t much vertical leap left in my legs after 16 miles and a short sprint. I brought my knees up to my chest as my rear end raked a barb, which cut through my shorts and skin.

In my weakened state, I had to contort my body in such a way that I could make it over the fence, but didn’t leave me primed for a graceful landing. This is where things get really good. On the first roll, I see something. I stop myself shortly after and I’m just a few feet away from a Bull. I know less about Bulls than Emus and Ostriches. All I can tell you is that it had lighter hair and horns. One thing I do know is that I’m more afraid of bulls than any bird, even an Ostrich or Emu.

My mind is racing as fast as I wish my legs could go, quickly devising a plan. I could jump back into the road and fight a giant bird, or try to make it back to the main road. Although I’m in a field with a bull, the corner has a few trees and rocks to run around as I get back to the main road, so I choose that adventure. It was further, but seemed to be the safer route. I don’t remember getting up or looking back, but I was running for my life, darting around trees and jumping rocks.

Finally I find myself flying through the air over the barb wire fence and face plant on the edge of the road. Feet away is a truck that saw me coming and was nice enough to stop instead of running me over. He said he figured he’d have to stop since he was sure I’d jump the fence to get away from the bull that was chasing me. I’m glad it wasn’t all in my mind. He asked me what I was doing and I explained my situation from Ostrich to Bull. I pointed the bird out and he asked me if I wanted a ride home. What I really wanted was to finish my run. He agreed to drive along the road for a quarter mile between me and the Ostrich to get me past the bird, then I’d be safe for the rest of the run.

Long story short, I survived and stuck to my plan. Other than a scraped up rear, I came out relatively unscathed with another great running story that feels absurdly unlikely. My legs recovered in the few days after for the annual Turkey Trot at Fairchild. I really don’t like the one in Spokane. Multiple laps around a park, dodging people, which makes it pure chaos. I’m not opposed to an actual fun run where places aren’t kept and it’s more about fun than racing, but that Turkey Trot simply is just not for me. There’s no set distance there, just people walking, jogging or running. It’s just chaos. Fairchild’s event has each person run 30 minutes on a tread mill. It is literally a time trial. The top three family totals (2 people only) win a turkey. I managed to make it 5.60 miles after having to slow down temporarily from a moment of mental weakness. Amanda and I took first with a total of 9.71 miles. I have the Columbia River Classic 10-miler this weekend in the Tri-Cities. That will be interesting as I’ll be tested by a better distance runner than I in Tom Pileggi. I can still shoot for a good time and an Ostrich-free adventure.