The End of the Heat Wave

Today the heat wave that had been over us for the last few days came to an end. Unfortunately, this did not happen in time for my morning run: the temperature was in the high 70s, and the humidity was rather high as well. When I walked out my front door, I instantly could tell that the conditions weren't pleasant, but, still, the air felt better than on Sunday morning.

This morning's hot weather, then, reminded me to approach my run conservatively, and I'm glad I did. I arrived at Forbidden Drive and immediately began paying close attention to my pacing. I began running two-minute intervals with one-minute walk breaks, but, by the end of the first mile, when I reached the orange trail, I shifted to three-minute intervals. Even when I hit the orange trail, I found myself more relaxed than I had been: this was going to be one of those runs that, notwithstanding the heat, left me feeling good about running.

Perhaps, too, the orange trail is becoming easier for me as I become more familiar with it. I still don't find myself taking in the sights: I'm wary of taking my eyes off the ground in front of me for more than a split second. Watching the ground does afford me the opportunity to catch sight of a lot of chipmunks. If only I could convince them that I'm not a predator, regardless of how strong the vibrations my feet cause when they hit the ground seem to them.

Usually while I'm running the orange trail, I encounter four or five people walking their dogs, but today I only saw one. Was the heat keeping the others away? 

At any rate, it seemed that the humidity had been lifting during the course of my run. Yes, I was soaked as I had been the last few runs, but the last part of my run seemed even easier than I'm accustomed to.

Thursday, the weather will be cooler and dryer. That may be the time for me to explore some other trails.

Keeping Moving

This morning I needed only to walk out the door to find that the weather forecasters weren't kidding when they predicted high heat and humidity. Yet the purpose of getting an early start, I had believed, was to beat the heat. Given that it was hotter than hell in the afternoon, then it was probably as hot as hell in the morning. But at 7:30 AM?

I began my run intending to follow the same route as Friday. Yet after about 15 minutes on the orange trail, a pebble that had gotten into my right shoe was bothering me so much that I had to stop and get it out. At that moment, I realized how hot I was, how much I was sweating, and how motion was helping to keep me cool. I decided, then, to cut my run back to five instead of six miles. I would get onto a path to take me to the first bridge over the Wissahickon after Lincoln Drive (travelling in the direction of Valley Green). Now all I had to do was to find the path.

I took a fork onto a path that I thought was the correct one, but I was wrong. Instead, the path took me back to the orange trail. Fortunately, I was close to the point where the orange trail empties out into Rittenhouse Town, so I resumed my normal course.

The remainder of my run on Forbidden Drive was physically and psychologically easier. Yet I realized that, even with what I had thought was a conservative strategy--that is, staying on a familiar path--was not sufficient for a comfortable run in weather as hot as this morning's. No, I probably would have been better off if I'd limited my run to four miles. Sometimes, less is more.

To a Chipmunk, I Am Bigfoot

As I ran on the orange trail yesterday, I was struck by a number of things I'd not noticed before about trail running.

First, running on the trial seemed to provide me a (slightly?) more rigorous workout than running on Forbidden Drive. The terrain on the trail varies far more than on the Drive: instead, for example, of long steady ascents where I can set a pace and maintain it for several minutes, the trail requires me to be more attentive to my pace--that is, to listen to my body. Running the trail, then, is changing how I think about my running while I'm doing it.

Second, I've come to understand why it can be easier to start my run on the trail rather than to finish it there. If, as I did this past Wednesday, i run the trail after already having run three "easy" miles, I find that, after a mile on the trail, the amount of effort I have to make increases noticeably. This may be a result partly of taking advantage of the easier part of the run and expending too much energy. And while I'm capable of running such a course--easy first, then hard--the psychological game becomes more challenging. I want my runs to remain enjoyable; if my is not to develop mental toughness (which has its place!), then it's better for me to run the more difficult part of the course early.

Third, running on the trail forces me not only to pay close attention to the ground itself but also to be careful about the split-second decisions I have to make about speed. The first, easy, lesson I learned was that I could only look at my heart monitor when I had a smooth stretch before me. Otherwise, I had to keep my eyes fixed on the trail. IAt some points, even more attentiveness is necessary, for example, when encountering a particularly rocky segment or one through which run many tree roots. The greatest challenge comes from running on rock formations, especially when these are slippery as a result of a recent rain. I ask myself, do I run these or not? If I choose to run, I know I have to be extremely focused and to think about every point where my foot will next hit the ground.

Fourth, I wonder if running as narrow a path as the trail contributes to my sense of balance. On much of the trail, I don't have the luxury of a seemingly endless flat surface beneath and on either side of me, so that if I, say, lose my balance, I can easily recover without going off-course. Not that I lose my balance, but perhaps the subconscious neural mechanism that  regulates this sort of thing gets more of a workout.

Fifth, and finally, as I've watched small forest critters dart across my path, I've come to understand that, to a chipmunk, I am the Sasquatch.

Successful Loop

Today we experienced some relief from the humidity of the last few days. Thunderstorms yesterday afternoon preceded some drier air. Or, at least, that's what the weather folks were saying. If this were the case, I couldn't tell this morning. If anything, the air felt more humid then on Wednesday morning. But perhaps last year's mild summer spoiled me.

After Wednesday's run, during which I found finishing with the trail to be slightly more taxing than beginning on it, I decided that I'd get on the trail early. I headed towards Lincoln Drive on Forbidden Drive and, at the first bridge, crossed over to the orange trail. I also took advantage of the path that led to the Monastery House parking lot: this is a lot less steep then the orange trail at the same point, and it allows one to trudge up the hill without losing too much energy.

Due to yesterday's rain, the trail was damper than I'd seem it lately. This wasn't a problem, although I think I probably exercised more caution while running on the rocks. I was surprised to find so many people out with their dogs so early, but I was more surprised to encounter no other runners on the trail.

I found that I paced myself more successfully today than of late. While the beginning of the run seemed more difficult than usual--and I was running at a slower pace--I soon found myself becoming more comfortable. I also experimented with taking fewer walk breaks today, and I seem to have made time as a result.

I feel that I'm now as comfortable running the route I took today as if I had been running the entire time on Forbidden Drive. My familiarity with the trail continues to increase, and I hope that my ability to run the trail will also increase.

Beating the Heat

We're in the midst of hot, muggy weather. Highs are near record levels, and the National Weather Service has issued heat advisories. In such conditions, what's a runner to do? Some options that are available to me include taking a few weeks to acclimate, running early in the day before the air gets too warm, and running indoors on a treadmill. This morning I chose the second of these, heading out to Forbidden Drive at 6:30 for a six-and-a-quarter-mile run.

One of my goals today was to run the orange trail from Lincoln Drive towards Valley Green (rather than the other way). I succeeded in this, finally, but not without encountering a few hitches. When I reached Rittenhouse Town, the area where one catches the trails, I had trouble finding the entrance, even though I had exited the trail at this point several times. There's a gate at the exit, but I had to look for it. Finding it, I realized how simple it is to get onto the trail: there's a gravel path leading to the entrance, but I'd never paid attention to exactly where it was when i had been running it previously.

I also took a wrong fork that turned out to lead me to a welcome discovery. As had occurred on a less successful run a few weeks ago, I found myself at the parking lot by near the Monastery House and Stables. This time, I followed a wide,  rocky trail down to what I discovered was the bridge near what had been a baptismal pool for Seventh-Day Adventists long ago. (This is the bridge that is about two miles south by southeast of Valley Green, that is, two miles in the direction of Lincoln Drive.) This trail, which provides a way to get back to the orange trail, is much less steep than the orange trail at the same point. Ascending the orange trail at this point requires a lot of power, and, when running it, I found myself walking the top part of the ascent.

So my knowledge of the orange trail continues to grow. I am somewhat surprised that I'm only familiar with the trail in one direction--towards Lincoln Drive. Running the opposite direction, especially along the segment from Lincoln Drive to the Baptismal Pool, is close to running on terra incognita.  I also found, perhaps due to the heat, that running the trail is more strenuous than I had imagined. Usually I had been running the trail outbound, so I had more energy. Running inbound, though, I found more taxing.  But I suppose familiarity and running longer distances will help me meet the trail's challenges.

Unnecessary Risks

This morning, I intended to make my first intentional run on the white trail. I had run a portion of the white trail once before when I had gotten lost, but I embarked on today's run with more confidence than the last time I had been on the trail.

I began my run from the point where the white trail (and the green trail) intersect with the road to Valley Green. The initial part of the run was uphill, but, starting out, I felt good. I trotted up the hill at a relaxed pace. Unfortunately, about a minute into the run I encountered some cyclists flying down the hill and over the humps in the path with an annoying bravado. I'd like to think--though I know it's not really the case--that there's something intrinsically humble about running, and that something stands opposed to the alleged arrogance of cyclists on the trail. I'd like to think that, but I know I'm only providing a feeble rationalization for my annoyance.

All was going well as I approached the top of the hill, and then the unexpected happened: I encountered a clearing from which I could discern no continuation of the white trail. So I took a wild guess, followed something that looked like a trail, and wound up at a dead end. I attempted to find my way onto an "official" trail, and, in a short time found myself on the part of the orange trail that, just a few days before, I had learned was largely unrunnable.

I can often handle setbacks like these if the conditions are right. Unfortunately, today it was hot and humid, and I was frustrated. To make matters worse, at least psychologically, my GPS/heart monitor kept alerting me that my heart rate was too high (it wasn't, but I'd not turned the alerts off since the last time I used it when working out on a stationary bike). So, about a mile into my run, I reached the bridge that took me back to Forbidden Drive, which I caught and followed back to Valley Green.

What lesson do I take from today's run?  The psychological challenges of running in heat humidity, I think, call for taking few if any risks. If I'm to have successful runs on such days, I need to stick with what I know.

Evening run

These days it's unusual for me to run in the evening, but I did so yesterday. I arrived at Valley Green around 6:30 p.m. for a run on the orange trail towards Lincoln Drive and back to Valley Green along Forbidden Drive.

At this time of the year, sunset is well after 8:30, so I considered running the outbound on Forbidden Drive and returning on the trail. After all, I've still not run the complete stretch of the red trail from Lincoln Drive towards Valley Green yet. Nevertheless, the sun was low, and the Wissahickon Valley was getting dark, so I decided to put off the return trip until another time.

For the first time, I had to contend with a lot of cyclists. Although bicycles are prohibited on most of the orange trail, as one approaches Lincoln Drive, multiple trails share the same paths. I found myself dodging the bicycles as they flew past, seemingly without regard for other users of the trail. Perhaps, too, the time of day contributed to the amount of traffic on the trails. With a short amount of time between work and sunset, a higher number of people may want to use the trails than at any given time during the weekend.

Still, I had a nice run, and I can tell that my familiarity with the trail is increasing, if for no other reason than that I'm mentally recording spans I hadn't recalled from previous runs. I also enjoy running in the early evening: doing so helps me to wind down and relax after a day at the office.  (Morning runs also have a salutary effect, but they usually affect my attitude going into the office.)  Perhaps in coming weeks I can take more advantage of the long summer days.

Rocks and Fallen Trees

Sometimes I tell people that the reason I run is that I hate to let a nice day go to waste. Today was one of those days. The temperature this morning was slightly above 70, the humidity was lower than it had been in four or five days, and the sky was a clear, bright blue. With conditions like these, I would have needed an excuse not to run.

I had one, of course, but I didn't use it. I slept poorly last night, so I was tempted to scrap the run altogether. Perhaps I would have taken advantage of the excuse had the air been hot and humid, but, instead, I settled for a conservative running strategy. I decided to limit my run to four miles, but, as compensation, I also cut back on the frequency of walk breaks. I had been wanting to determine how much the breaks had been affecting my time anyway.

Today I took what will probably turn out to be one of my preferred four-mile routes. I ran down Forbidden Drive toward Lincoln Drive, turned around at two miles, crossed over the bridge to the orange trail, followed the trail for a mile, and then returned to Forbidden Drive. I ran the entire course in 41:38, that is, at a 10:15/mile pace. I took less frequent walk breaks, but I did stop for about a minute to ... well ... trails offer some distinctive conveniences, now, don't they?

I've found that the segment of the orange trail I ran today is marginally easier to run in the opposite direction than I went today. In particular, there are some rock formations that are easier to ascend than to descend. In the latter case, a runner faces the peril of losing her footing, and the same gravity that extracts power from those who resist it--that same gravity stands ready to bring the runner crashing down.

I'm finding, too, that the trails contain some unavoidable nuisances that force one to break the run: fallen trees. While it's possible to jump over some of them, others force one to crouch down and pass underneath. But such is the character of trail running.

Shoes 2010 Edition

In one of my previous lives--the one right after college, to be precise--I earned a master's degree in engineering mechanics. At the time, a small group within my department studied biomechanics; but I, having more of a theoretical and computational bent as well as more than enough naiveté, then had little interest in an area so dependent on experimental research. It was only years later, long after I had left the field, that I came to appreciate, and even envy, what my biomechanical friends had been doing. After all, without their like, I'm not sure that the running shoes that I need would exist.

This past Saturday, I replaced my running shoes, Mizuno Wave Nirvanas, with a new pair of Mizuno Wave Alchemy shoes. The old pair probably had between 500 and 600 miles on them, all logged in the last 11 months. They were my first "real" pair of running shoes, although recognizing that doesn't suggest that I'm sentimentally attached to them (I'm not). But they served me well for a year. They weren't perfect, but they were far more than adequate.

When I began running last year, I headed to a large sporting goods chain to buy a pair of shoes. That was a big mistake. I picked up a pair of Asics running shoes (I forget which model), from which I removed the insoles and replaced them with custom orthotics that I'd been wearing for about 15 years. After less than three months of running, I was experiencing bad foot pain--probably plantar fasciitis--in my left foot. I was beginning to worry that my running career was coming to a young end. I visited a podiatrist who fitted me with new orthotics, but the new ones wouldn't even fit in my running shoes. Then, at a friend's suggestion, I started looking for new shoes.

After some research, I came to realize that feet even as flat as mine aren't that unusual and that, over the years, the engineers who develop shoes had designed footwear that addressed the issues raised by feet like the ones that dangle from the end of my legs. I also speculated that removing the orthotics that come with them defeats the design goals for the shoes. I headed to a local running store so that people who knew both running and feet could help my find a new pair.

I learned one more important thing that day at the running store: My problems were exacerbated, if not caused, by some serious flaws in my form. One of my first tasks, then, was going to be improve my form--basic stuff, but essential to running injury-free.

After trying several pairs, I settled on the Mizuno Wave Nirvana. I took some time to refine my choice, but this was too important to approach casually.

Still, the new shoes weren't perfect. I still had occasional problems with pain in the arch of my left foot, although I never experienced the sort of persistent pain that I'd encountered previously. This time, tehn, I decided that, rather than simply buying this year's model of the Wave Nirvana, I needed to return to a shoe store and go through the process again.

I'm glad that I did. While I tried on the Wave Nirvana--and it was even one of my finalists--I found that the Wave Alchemy provided more support for my arch. (I also discovered that the Mizuno shoes in general were more suited to my feet--or I was more accustomed to their design--that the Saucony and Brooks shoes that I tried. I suspect that this reflects variations in design philosophies among the various manufacturers.) The icing on the cake, I learned after making my decision, was that my new choice was about $30 cheaper than the runner-up. Still, the shoes felt similar enough to my old shoes that, on their maiden run yesterday, I hardly noticed a difference--except that I had no arch pain, and the new shoes did seem to absorb the shock of hitting the ground better than the old pair.

I don't know how long it will take me to run my next 500 miles, but, if all goes well, I may find myself in another pair of the same model next time around. And I'll have biomechanical engineers to thank.

Avoiding Injuries

Today I ran later than I would have liked. The weather has been hot and humid, so it would have been better for me to head out at 6 or 7 in the morning. Instead, I didn't run until about 11. While I didn't have a bad run, neither did I run as long or as far as I would have liked. The temperature was probably in the mid to high 80s, and, with the high humidity, discouraged me from trying anything new.

So I returned to the orange trail, and, specifically, to the route I followed last Tuesday. This proved to be a wise decision. Most of the my run was in the shade, although the partly cloudy skies limited the amount of direct sunshine anyway. A second benefit to running the orange trail today, though, was that it provided me an opportunity to deepen my familiarity with it. Indeed, at one point I encountered a fork in the trail. I took the right fork, but I didn't have to follow it far to discover that I was on a trail that seemed more difficult than I had remembered the orange being. I backtracked and discovered that, yes, I'd taken the wrong fork; I'd missed the marking on one of the trees that pointed in the right direction.

Trail running, I'm learning, presents its own set of advantages and disadvantages compared to running on other paths (such as Forbidden Drive). Although the surfaces are often soft, variations in the surface are myriad. I have to be constantly on the lookout for rocks and roots and small changes in the contour of the path. I've been reminded of this several times during my last few runs, when I have accidentally turned my foot inwards, pulling some set of ligaments, tendons, or muscles on the outside of my leg. I hope that injury isn't inevitable or statistically highly probable. Perhaps I need to be more vigilant.

Towards the end of my run, I began to notice how intense the combination of heat and humidity was. When I put on my sunglasses, which cover my eye sockets, I could feel the heat within the space between my eyes and the lenses, and wearing them actually became slightly uncomfortable. Yet the proof for me came after I stopped my run and walked over to the water fountain. Without the motion of the air against my skin, I noticed how my body had become a furnace. So it was probably for the best that I halted my run when I did.

Continued Trail Explorations

This morning I squeezed in a quick, short four-mile run. Since I was pressed for time, I wanted to try a new point of access to the orange trail and a new, as yet unexplored (by me, that is) segment.

I ran two miles out from Valley Green towards Lincoln Drive. On the return, I left Forbidden Drive for a bridge that took me to the other side of the creek and onto the orange trail.

I was pleased to discover, after having only run this segment of the trail only once before and in the opposite direction, that it already seemed familiar to me. The one-mile segment between bridges about one and two miles out from Valley Green is pleasant and easy to run.

Arriving by the bridge one mile out, though, I decided to continue on the orange trail back to Valley Green. Alas, this segment was not too runnable. The path is simply too rocky to run in places, and it also includes some steep, rocky steps. This portion of the trail is fine for hiking, but I can’t a rewarding run on it.

After completing the run, I once again consulted a map of the Wissahickon Valley. I saw that the white trail parallels the orange trail. Perhaps the white trail will make it possible for me to run on trails the entire length from Valley Green to Lincoln Drive, even if I switch back to the orange trail along the way.

Success on the Orange Trail

Today was a great day for a run. The heat and humidity of the past two weeks cleared out Sunday afternoon. The improved conditions therefore provided a more favorable atmosphere, both physically and psychologically, for achieving the success on the orange trail that had eluded me on Sunday.

After I arrived a Valley Green, I consulted a map to determine where I would get on the orange trail. In my previous run, I had noticed an entrance to a trail next to the bridge that's about a mile from Valley Green in the direction of Lincoln Drive. According to the map, this was the orange trail. I planned to catch it at that point, then, and to follow it out to Lincoln Drive, if possible.

Everything went according to my plans. I caught the orange trail a mile out and followed it until it emptied out at Lincoln Drive. While the trail had its share of rocky segments and tree roots, I found it to be much easier than I had anticipated. Yes, there were a few steep hills, but what was important to me is that the terrain was, in general, rather smooth.

Upon arriving at Lincoln Drive, I headed towards Forbidden Drive and then made the run back to Valley Green. I felt good, not just for having run, but also for getting a better sense of where the orange trail goes. Next time, I may attempt to run today's path in reverse. Stay tuned.

Trail Trouble

Today's run started a little off-key. After I had parked my car, I turned on my running GPS, and I discovered that the battery was so low that it turned off as soon as I acknowledge the message. Fine, I thought: this will force me to pay extra attention to what my body is telling me.
I had planned to run 2-1/2 miles on forbidden drive before following the yellow trail out as far as it would take me. At the parking lot, though, I took a fresh look at the map of the Wissahickon Valley. Here, for the first time, I saw the trails clearly marked on a map. The orange trail, I learned, extended roughly the entire length of Forbidden Drive, running parallel to it on the opposite side of the creek. The yellow trail, meanwhile, ran all the way from Main Street in Manayunk to Bell's Mill Road. With this new information, I began to consider revising my plans.
Instead of running out 2-1/2 miles towards Lincoln Drive, turning around, and then getting on the yellow trail, I ran all the way to Lincoln Drive. Having consulted one more map that was posted along the way, I decided that I'd run up to Rittenhouse Town and then catch the orange trail on the way back.
The problem was, it wasn't immediately clear to me where I could get on the orange trail. If I'd made the effort to study the map more carefully, I probably would have figured it out. As it happened, I decided to turn back the way I had come and to get to the orange trail from one of the side trails that I learned would lead to it.
The side trail did not welcome running: rocks and roots pervaded its narrow path, which dropped off steeply toward the river. I walked much of it until I reached the orange trail. Then the run became somewhat easier, at least temporary. I followed the trail until I reached a parking lot, whereupon I became confused. Where was I to get back on the orange trail? There were no signs, nor were there colored markings on the trees. I took a wild guess, and, after a little while, found myself on the white trail.
While the trail seemed easy, I had become discouraged. Usually I rely on the heart monitor function of my GPS to let me know how much effort I'm putting forth, but at this point, I was rather dispirited and therefore started walking, not really sure if my hard breathing were a result of normal exertion--as was most likely--or if I were really pushing myself too hard.
I followed the path to where a large cement pipe formed a bridge over rocky road running perpendicular to it. Suspecting that the road led back to Forbidden Drive, I crossed the bridge and made my way down the steep embankment to the road. Sure enough, I soon found myself on familiar ground: I was about a mile from Valley Green. I resumed my run and returned to my starting point.
So today's run did not go well. I did, however, check when I got home to see where I could get one of the maps of the Wissahickon that was posted by the parking lot. Perhaps more familiarity with the routes will prevent me from having some of the problems I had today.

Back on the Trail

This morning I headed out for my run a little earlier than usual for a weekday. This proved to be an advantage, because, although the temperature was in the mid-70s, the humidity was already rather high. I was surprised, six minutes into my run, how much I was already perspiring. Under such conditions, and because I haven't been running much in this kind of weather this year, I attempted to make this an easy run.

Well, easy to a point. My route this morning took me from Valley Green to Northwestern Avenue. From there, I headed up to Germantown Pike, over the bridge by Chestnut Hill College, and then onto the orange trail. I had hoped that, with 2-3/4 miles behind me, I would be better able to pace myself on the trail.

Again, I found the trail a bit difficult. Unlike the yellow trail, the orange trail has some rather extensive rocky stretches. (This may also explain why the trail is closed to cyclists.) The trail also contains quite a few more hills than I remember encountering on the yellow. Still, I'm hoping that familiarity will make the trail more manageable for me.

At the same time, I can clearly see the benefits of trail running: not only do the hills make for a more rigorous workout, but the unevenness of the trail enlists muscles that I might otherwise not use much. Perhaps I'll even get to a point where I manage the more challenging trails with slightly more ease.

On the Orange Trail

Today I returned to the orange trail. I’d run it a few weeks ago, but, learning from a friend that it’s not too difficult, I decided to give it a try again.

I took off from Valley Green and, after running about a mile, I arrived at the trail. At the beginning, I had to climb some steps, and thereafter the trail ascended a little further. I'm not sure if it really was easier than the portions of the yellow trail that I'd run: much of it I found to be rockier, so I spent much of the time focused on the trail itself.

Here, I think, may be one of the challenges I face when trail running. I seem to run harder on the trails than on easier paths like Forbidden Drive, perhaps because I'm paying more attention to the ground immediately in front of me than to my pace. Running the orange trail today also posed a special challenge, because it was unfamiliar to me.

I did follow the trail to where it ended over by Chestnut Hill College. When I arrived at Germantown Avenue, I headed towards Northwest Avenue and back onto Forbidden Drive. I can't say that I was tired, but I did wonder how I was going to make it back to my car over at Valley Green. Yet the return to familiar ground provided me the opportunity to recover and finish strong.

Now that I know where the orange trail begins and ends, I plan to run it in the other direction, that is from Chestnut Hill College towards the Valley Green. I hope that the two-and-a-half mile run will prepare me better for the return journey.

Success on the Yellow Trail

Okay. Now I think I may be getting the hand of this trail-running thing.

Today, I decided to return to the route that I took last week when I ran the yellow trail. The 2-1/2 miles towards Lincoln drive would keep me from hitting the trail too aggressively early in the run. Only then did I get on the yellow trail. I'd intended to follow it at least to where it would return me to Valley Green, if not farther. Because of time constraints, I went only as far as Valley Green.

The weather forecast was for muggy weather with a high in the low 90s. I knew that I was going to have to beat the heat if I wanted to have as good a run as I would have liked.

I was much more successful today. First, I ran the hills very conservatively, that is, slowly. I could tell that I was working muscles that I don't use that much when running on Forbidden Drive. While part of my run was rather taxing, I felt comfortable during most of the run.

Success breeds motivation. My next time out on the yellow trail, I hope to follow it farther. More significantly, today's was the most satisfying run that I've had in a couple of weeks.