At the request of my dad, I woke up at 6:00 am on Saturday, May 20th so I could volunteer at the Highland Loops trail run in the backwoods of my hometown: Highland, Michigan. After gulping down a cup of plain yogurt with raspberries and slipping on my warmest jacket, I sped off (not on the road, though) to the registration site while it was still dark and quiet outside. While waiting for the race supervisor—a cool runner guy named DJ—to place me at a station, I stood back and watched as the early-bird racers came to pick up their packets.
I had run on these trails myself a few weeks back. I had managed to run about 3 miles on the trails, which are all very rocky, hilly paths, before deeming them too physically and morally exhausting for me to handle. I had promised to visit them another time after I got into shape. While remembering my promise, I became curious to see what kinds of people would be willing to take on the challenge today of running 7 or 16 miles on the trails. I figured most of them would be muscular and weather-worn, like Rocky when he was training in Russia in the mountains.
What I was most surprised to see was that most of them were rather lean while others looked more like beginning runners. There was even a kid, aged 13, who, I later learned, was the overall winner of the 7-mile race. Although what I expected was experienced runners to be running this tough course, I think they got a pretty diverse group. I felt proud to be among the few who dared to take on such tough terrain, and I vowed to return to run the 3-mile course again later that month, this time without stopping.
I was stationed with three lovely ladies at the D-station—the last stop on the course. Together, we cheered on the runners, took their numbers, filled water cups, and handed out various runner-snacks, like Fig Newton’s all while trying to keep ourselves warm.
I would like to note that most runners function about the same way when it comes to snacking during a race: the fastest take nothing, the runners-up only get water, and everyone else that follows usually takes a snack. The most popular item was definitely the oranges. One of the ladies I worked with was tickled when a runner said we had the best oranges. She said they were the best because of the way I cut them up. I can’t lie; that made me feel awesome.
At the end of the day, only six runners dropped out of the 16-mile race. I was amazed that so many people had run so far. They all deserved the carb-loaded banquet they got at the end. The fastest runners (my dad included! Third overall!) got a thick beer cup and a wooden medal hung on a leather strap for prizes. Everybody, though, walked away with the best prize: a fresh cookie that the afternoon sun had softened and warmed to perfection.
The thing I remember best, aside from how cold it was, was the peace of the trees, the gentleness of the wind, the leaves above us that covered the floor with spots of shade, the early-spring sun, and the ice-gray sky that you only see in the morning here in mid-Michigan. I am always reminded of how much I love the trails in Michigan when I’m on them. If you want to discover a backwoods trail here for yourself, a list of other trail races can be found at the site below:
