I came home early from work tonight, with an upset stomach. After a while, I felt better and was feeling quite restless so I decided to go hit the trails for a quick run before dinner.

My plan was to climb the south switchbacks that lead to the Farmington Upper Terrace. It is about 1,000 ft. elevation gain in about 1 mile of trail. At the top, a local trail building colossus, Ryan, had recently cut and flagged a new trail up canyon to the trail that comes down from the Francis Peak trail and meets up with the canyon road at the 2nd switchback. The first time I came down that trail from the Francis Peak ridge, I had thought, “It would be nice if a trail cut down canyon here to meet up with the Upper Terrace.” Apparently Ryan read my thoughts.

 

As I reached the trail intersection to head up Ryan’s new route, I joined the Trail Puke club. Many ultramarathoners have GI troubles during long races and throw up a lot. I haven’t ever had any trouble – and I haven’t really run any long races. So, I don’t think throwing up at 1 mile is the best way to get into the club, but I’ll count it. Afterwards, I felt much better.

I followed the trail up but about 1/2 way along, the flagging split into a high road and low road. I took the high road and it soon thereafter got lost in a thicket of scrub oak. I was tired and surprisingly sweat by that point, so I descended, running another couple miles along various BST branches.

 

It felt good to be out,  but my ankles hurt. Stupid stress fractures. Stupid tibias. Stupid basketball!