Tomorrow is my first foray into the phenomenon known as Hood to Coast. I think I should be far more worried about the 30 hours the organizers believe it will take for my team to finish the 200 miles than I am. I have heard many stories of how miserable the vans are, how impossible it is to sleep until you cross the finish line, how smelly your seat mate will be by leg two, the seven miles at 1 a.m. in the middle of nowhere complete with strange animal sounds emerging from the bushes, how sore I’ll be once I feel the sand under my feet in Seaside—you get the idea. Even through all these tales of HTC horror, I sit here in my curriculum design class tonight reminded of the feeling I used to get the night before my first day of school, but the difference is this time I am excited for the adventure tomorrow opposed to dreading the next 180 days.
While I should have trained more (okay, a hell of a lot more, but let’s not dwell on those things we cannot change) I think I am partially ready to run my 17 miles. It is estimated I will start my first leg around 10:30 a.m. running downhill Rhododendron; my second leg at 8:45 p.m. along a long, boring, and very busy highway 30; and my last leg at 7 a.m. out of Jewell. In my mind I picture my run out of Jewell being a peaceful scene with a mist suspended just above green pastures filled with sleepy horses munching on dewy grass. The horses will raise their heads to watch me gracefully trot past them, quietly The reality, I imagine, will be a tired, gnarled, and peeved Heather bribing people with money and the hopes of sainthood to run my last leg. Regardless, I am looking forward to a cold beer and icing my tired legs in the Pacific Ocean around 4 p.m. on Saturday.
Wish me luck.
