The Accidental Trail Runner
I’m an accidental trail runner.
For starters, I’m too big and gangly to ever be seriously “good” at the sport. But that’s never been the goal for me anyway (which is why I love it so much).
It started from a surfing injury (another sport I’ve long adored for it’s inherently un-competitiveness). There was a massive swell on Labor Day some years ago, and my brother had just wiped out fairly spectacularly. His board (a large one) went flying in the air, and decided to slice off a flap of skin from his ankle on its return landing to Earth. A chill holiday, to say the least.
After a quick trip to the Malibu Urgent Care, he was patched up but unable to do anything “active” for a few weeks. So of course he somehow managed to discover active.com in his weeks-long downtime at home. He signed us up for a number of endurance-style trail races in the local mountains – such as the Xterra Point Mugu trail race, which I ran wearing tall white cotton socks. I wound up finishing my first 10 mile trail race with blisters the size of grapefruits on my feet – and I was hooked.
Trail running has always been about hitting the “reset button” for me, especially during the COVID era. Those of us lucky enough to work from home are typically glued to screens all day, perhaps making an exhilarating field trip to the kitchen and/or laundry room. My need for a reset typically comes just before the second coffee of the day (which is a 2pm iced drink in my book) – and with trail running, I can just grab a pair of shoes and go.
Living in LA, I can run straight out my door and stomp through some 5-6 miles of dirt in my local state parks. Some of these (like the newly-constructed “Park to Playa Bridge” from Kenneth Hahn S.P. to Baldwin Hills S.P.) offer sweeping views of the city with snowcapped mountains in the background as of late. Other trails (like Backbone in the Santa Monica Mountains) allow me to totally and completely get lost in nature with sketchy single-track for days.
In the way-back-yonder when jumping on an airplane and flying to places was a thing, trail running offered me a means to easily (and cheaply) explore wherever I’d go. In fact, some of my favorite places in most cities are the local trails (Forest Park in Portland, Redwood Regional S.P. in the Bay Area). Unlike other gear-dependent sports, trail running means packing light and being nimble. Flying with a helmet strapped to your carry-on was never really that fun anyway.
While I still consider trail running events a total blast (you simply must check out Daybreak Racing in the Pacific Northwest for the post-run kombucha alone), I’ve never been “in it” for the finish. Traveling for races has simply been an excuse to check out more of the American West that I’d otherwise never have seen – in a dramatic (and ridiculously fun) sort of way. I was even fortunate enough to meet my girlfriend of the last two years through the trail running community (Latigo Coffee’s Trail Run & Coffee Meet-up series).
COVID restrictions have given all of us a renewed sense of appreciation for our own backyard. Even in a megalopolis like Los Angeles, we’re still able to seek out that sense of rejuvenation that a dirt trail surely brings from all over the city. Here’s to hoping we all come out of this pandemic with an even stronger conviction to protect these public lands for generations to come ✌🏻
