I like to think this RN-T running blog can be as enlightening as it is entertaining, and with that thought in mind I offer the following life lesson:

Running long distances will sometimes result in blisters. Wearing wet socks and shoes will sometimes result in blisters. Running long distances in wet socks and shoes will always result in blisters.

I reminded myself of that fact today while covering 20 miles on the Silver Comet Trail, portions of which were flooded. I was about a mile into the run when I came upon the first of many water-cover dips in the trail, but I just sped on through without considering how uncomfortable that decision would make the remaining 19 miles.

I’ve ran plenty of times in the rain, and it poured for the first eight miles of my first half marathon in Atlanta. But I had never ran 20 miles before today, and I didn’t consider the effect that distance and wet shoes would have on my poor feet.

I’ll spare you the details, but know that it was not attractive. I’d post a photo but this is a family site and the Internet police are always watching.

For what it’s worth, I felt pretty good during the run. I didn’t get tired until mile 14, and my legs didn’t start complaining until mile 18. I did lose an energy gel packet that I sorely missed later. Then I found said packet about a half-mile from the end of my run, flattened on the road.

Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, about six miles east of Cedartown on the Silver Comet there is a section of the longest, steepest hills I’ve ever climbed. No one told me to expect those hills, so I almost fainted as a approached. And then, because the trail at that point runs directly next to a landfill, I almost fainted from the smell/taste of rotting garbage as I huffed and puffed my way up and down those mountains.

Yeah, mountains. I might have even ran by a guy wearing an oxygen tank and climbing gear. That’s how big these hills were. So bad I accidently typed an “e” instead of an “i” when I wrote the word “hills” in that last sentence.

To top it off, I was running an out-and-back, so I had to climb them twice, sucking putrid garbage wind even harder the second time. Whomever decided to put a fitness trail next to a landfill (or vice-versa) should have their planning degree revoked, assuming said planner has such a degree.

So, other than crossing the garbage mountains, running in wet shoes, losing my energy gel, and getting attacked by a bear, it was a good run. OK, I wasn’t attacked by a bear, I was just hoping to be toward the end when I was really tired. Apparently you’re suppose to play dead when a bear approaches and that would have been a nice change of pace.

I did, however, mistakenly think a horse was an elephant for about five seconds. I saw the horse out of the corner of my eye and thought I had just spotted an elephant. It was a surprising surreal moment. I’ve never experienced the so-called runner’s high, but for a moment there I wondered if I was about to.

What can I say, exhaustion will play tricks on the mind.