I knew I needed a good hour to run on Wednesday morning and had to return in time to clean the house, shower, ready the kids and husband, and get out before 8:30 for our scheduled house showings. That left no time to wait for the rising sun. I layered my clothes in reflective gear and topped off the look with my ultra-stylish LED baseball cap. It doesn't light the way very well, but I figured it would alert cars, or wild animals, of my existence.
It was freaky quiet outside and every little crack of grass caused me to whip my head around in fear of some unknown creature, most likely Bigfoot. I sprinted across the open space behind my house to escape the murkiness of night and safety of porch lights a few hundred yards ahead.
Repeatedly telling myself to relax, I tried to settle into my stride. By the time I crossed over into another open space that was surrounded by darkened houses, I thought I felt better. "You are an adult. Remember that book you read to Ethan a few months ago? Sid the Science Kid says, 'Nothing changes in the dark.' Nothing changes in the dark, Jen. No, but wild animals come out in the dark, and you can't see them before they nip at your heals! Highlands Ranch is known for coyote attacks on humans..."
As these ridiculous conversations distracted my brain from the stress of selling our first home, I came to a bridge. On the near side of the bridge was a set of green glowing eyes. They were crouched low to the ground and looked large enough to be a good sized animal. As I moved closer, it held its ground. I opened my pocket and fingered my mace. I always carry mace with me, but because I usually run with my dog, I've never felt the urgency to hold it so close, or learn how to use it.
With every step, the animal watched me and refused to back down. I remember watching Duck Dynasty with my husband this weekend, where Willie and Jase hunt for frogs in the middle of the night. Eyes glowing red mean alligator, green eyes mean it's a frog. These eyes are green, I should be good, right?
I figured the animal had to be more afraid of me than I was of it, so if I charged forward with all the speed I could muster, mace in hand, I would scare the crap out of whatever it was, coyote, fox, puma, Sasquatch, the usual. In the last few inches before running into it, the homicidal bunny leaped out of my way. A bunny. I am a warrior. I can face my fears and take on rabbits.
Feeling like a wimp, I decided to stop freaking myself out and enjoy the rest of the run. When I reached the farms at the furthest point south in Highlands Ranch, I saw two large coyote. They smelled me before I caught any sight of them and ran off a safe distance away from me. I stopped at the side of a dirt road and watched them run. One coyote was bothered by his spectator. He kept turning around looking at me like, "Go already! Leave us alone!" It was comforting to see this Bunny Warrior posed a real threat to two large pack animals with fangs. I held my head a little higher and finished my run under the beautiful pink Rocky Mountain sunrise.
I found your blog a few weeks ago and am also training for Colfax. This cracks me up because I do the exact same thing. Thanks for making us laugh!
ReplyDeleteTrina from SE Aurora