Story Time: Describe a run where you worried you weren't going to make it back

Did a first year 50K maybe 8 years ago in Virginia that is no longer held (I think they only had it 2 years)...

RD says there are about 25 miles of road and 6+ of trail up and onto the AT. Typical out and back. Roads were country roads..somewhat hilly, blind turns, etc. RD in pre-race meeting says "You'll probably see 10 cars all morning".

Shiiiiiiiiit, we probably say 10 cars in the first half mile, all going (as is typical on country roads) well over the speed limit. I mean, they know the roads and know they can go faster than posted..lol. After that first mile, we turned onto a more main road, which while was still country, had even more cars on it. It was actually quite scary numerous times, I'm talking bail into the ditch on the side of the road type moments. I remember thinking on the way back, as the roads were getting busier, "I really don't want to do this anymore. I'm going to get hit by a damn car". Still had probably 10 miles left at that point, too.

I got attacked by two pit bulls once. One bit my calf and the other put a gash in my back as he jumped up and tried to bite my neck. Fortunately, I was able to fend them off by standing my ground and stomping my feet at their heads. I yelled so loudly at them that I lost my voice for three days.

I also got severely dehydrated on a run. It was a cumulative thing of not hydrating well enough over a few days in the summer. I was about two miles from home and couldn't run at all. I went to pee in a port a can and my pee was brown. I managed to walk it in after getting to a water fountain and drinking a bunch of water. But I had to stay in bed the rest of the day because I was so weak from being dehydrated. Pretty lucky I didn't black out and end up in the ER that day.

I was on a run in the Olympic National Park early in the morning. I came around a bend in the road to discover a black bear feeding on berries about 20 feet from me. It spooked and ran up the hill. I jumped back the other direction. It stopped about 100 ft from me, turned around and stood up on its back legs, sniffed the air for about a minute, and loped off into the woods.

Even though I knew black bear attacks are extremely rare, for those 60s or so I thought it might decide I looked better than the berries.

Ohio, 2001. I was running northwest along a river road out in the country doing my long run. It was a beautiful day with a gentle breeze and sunshine. I get to the halfway point (8 miles I think), cross a bridge, and begin heading southeast along the river road that runs on the other side of the river. The sky in front of me is still clear, bright, and beautiful. A few miles later, a car passes me, slows down, and the driver says, "you're about to get wet", then points his thumb toward his back and drives off. I had no idea what he was talking about, but suddenly I feel the wind kick up. I look back and there is a MASSIVE storm front bearing down on me. I mean, it's like something out of a disaster movie. I'm probably 4 miles from home at this point, so I decide to up my pace. I begin running tempo pace for several minutes, but the wind is getting stronger and stronger. Leaves and grass begin to blow around and then I feel some rain start. I hear thunder and realize I am not going to be able to outrun this front and need to take shelter. There aren't too many houses on this road, but I do see a bridge up ahead. I jump the railing, slide down the bank, and crouch under the steel i-beam rafters. Within 30 seconds of me crawling under the bridge, I hear a huge gush of wind, see trees falling over on one side of the bridge, then the bridge begins to shake, then trees start falling on the other side of the bridge. Things calm down a bit and there is heavy rain and lightning for 10 minutes, followed by a calm with just rain. I crawl out after 20-30 minutes to see trees down everywhere, power lines are down, a barn roof is partially torn off in the distance, I can see tree limbs everywhere. I am shirtless and in short shorts and this is before cell phones. I jog to the nearest house, knock on the door, explain what had happend, and ask to use their phone. They oblige and I call my wife to come pick me up, but she can't get through, though, because all the roads are closed due to downed lines and trees. I end up walking a mile or so out to a road that is open so she can pick me up. Crazy run.

I’ve had a few 13 mike runs in 120+ degree heat. On many occasions I was concerned I wasn’t going to make it back. I always did.

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Super heat wrote:

I’ve had a few 13 mike runs in 120+ degree heat. On many occasions I was concerned I wasn’t going to make it back. I always did.

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“Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired. When you were younger the mind could make you dance all night, and the body was never tired... You've always got to make the mind take over and keep going.”

I moved to the deep South in the recent past. My first summer, I didn't respect the humidity nearly enough. On a sunny day that was 96°F with a 79°F dew point, I headed out for what should have been a very easy 6 mile out-and-back.

I had a mild head wind on the way out. I was sweating profusely, but the wind made it somewhat bearable. Then I turned around.

The wind was blowing almost exactly my pace, making the air feel totally stagnant. My sweat, which already hadn't been doing much good, became totally useless at cooling me. There was no shade. I saw vultures in the trees, and they seemed to know I was struggling. I slowed down to 8:00 pace, then 9:00. My vision started to swim and I was having a hard time thinking clearly. I thought I was close to collapsing and was trying to figure out if I needed to flag a car down for help. Probably should have stopped and walked home, but I was being too much of a tough guy for that.

When I did make it home, I immediately took my temperature. (Rectally..... you see I was very concerned.) 103.2°F. That close to heat stroke.

Flatwoods Park Tampa Florida probably 18 years ago is the only time in my life that I saw heard and felt lightning kind of scary really

I once went on a super-budget run / bike camping holiday with some friends in the Pyrenees. One day we did a 60 something mile ride over the Col de Soulor and the Col d'Aubisque. That night we went drinking in Argeles-Gazost and my friend dared me to run it. I was in jeans and sneakers so I went to the bathroom, ditched the pants and set off, drunk at 11:30 and on unlit mountain roads, on what ended up being a 29 mile run up two sizeable mountains. I was chased by two dogs (that I couldn't see) and had to run through one 500m long pitch-black tunnel (I put my hand on a wall and just kept going). I got to the top of the Aubisque around 5am and hitched a ride back down with the van that they send over to inspect and open the road every morning. I had a 10 mile walk back to our campsite after that and ate an entire bin bag full of yesterday's pastries that a friendly boulangerie gave me as I was stumbling past. Ah, to be young and dumb again.

Made it to Starkey Park at about 5pm during a hot summer day in Florida first time running there. I plan to run 1 hr. After about an hour in after doing a loop multiple times I realize I don't know which trail takes you back to parking lot. I take multiple trails and they keep taking me back to this same loop. I pass the same landmarks multiple times but can't figure out how to get off. About 90 min in I decide to take Forest Rds and bush whack to the nearest Rd. I listen for car's and start to head in the general direction. I end up having to wade through 2 separate swamps chest deep. The entire time I'm yelling and praying at top of my lungs because I'm terrified of snakes and Gators. It's normal on a run to see 2-3 snakes in FL and often poisonous ones, I've also seen a gator once on a trail. I jump Barb wire fence, run through a cow pasture and come out to main Rd. I try to stop a guy getting gas but he jumps in his car and ignores me as I tap on his window for help. I go into the gas station and ask if I can use the phone. They think that I'm using drugs or running from the law. I finally convince them that I'm a runner and got lost and their response is how the hell did u get this lost? The park is about 5 miles away? I end up calling my grandmother who lives close by. We get to the park after 8pm and a forest ranger is very upset bc he had to stay late and was about to fill out lots of paperwork bc of someone lost or illegally camping in park after hours.

Been lost many times at Flatwoods Park. Almost stepped on many snakes there. That's also where l saw a gator on the trail. Encountered countless wild hogs... Spent an entire summer learning the trails there, took a lot of getting lost. Now I know them like the back of my hand and have even run the 13 mile trail loop at 11pm once.

Had to poop so bad almost didn’t make it.

Some great stories here. Mine doesn't quite match up, but here it is anyway.

I left my home in Rochester, New York for a normal early-spring morning run. It was in the upper 30s and raining--very unpleasant conditions. I planned a 10-mile run but divided it up into two 5-mile loops, and felt so chilled by the end of the first loop that I almost quit there, but sucked it up and went out for the second loop. The rain turned to sleet and the wind was howling, and all I could think about was how good it would feel to jump into a hot shower at the end. I finally reached the end of the second loop, ran up to my house, reached for the zipper of my jacket pocket to get my house key out, and discovered in horror that the zipper was unzipped and the key was missing.

My first instinct was to lie down on the porch and cry, but I quickly realized that would be counterproductive. I lived alone and no one else had a key. I briefly considered breaking a window to get in, but that seemed both expensive and somewhat dangerous. But I had a second house key in the desk of my office, only 4.5 miles away by bike path. I told myself to suck it up, this is no big deal for a marathoner. I set off down the bike path, but by then I was so hypothermic I could barely keep moving forward. The wind was blowing the sleet/snow horizontally and I was having a hard time staying upright. By the time I finally got to my office I was unimaginably cold and shaking uncontrollably over my whole body. I grabbed the sweatshirt I kept in my office and sat there blue and shivering for about half an hour.

I still had to get 4.5 miles back home through the sleet and snow, but I'd had enough. I called a taxi once I was warm enough to operate a telephone.

I spent a few months a while back exploring a significantly large trail network I am fortunate to live reasonably close to. Almost 50 trails in dense woods comprising close to 4000 acres. Beautiful, lots of deer and vistas in rugged terrain that make for great long runs, but it is a confusing maze in parts. Only the main trails (about 8) have identifying marks at intersections.

One late afternoon I was doing an adventurous route that was about 12 miles through the system. I had planned/timed it so that I'd be exiting the final trail onto a gravel road of about 2 miles that would take me to lighted streets. The problem was that I messed up near the end of the route, and found myself on an unfamiliar side trail with about 20 minutes of useable light to work with. I started running faster, but it just went on and on. Eventually, I was reduced to looking up rather than down to guide my way by the slight variation from black sky to even blacker treeline on either side. I ended up tripping and falling with all my momentum and weight onto a pointed rock that was embedded in the trail, slamming into my ribcage. My face also took a bit of a beating upon hitting the ground, but I didn't realize how badly until much later. I had the breath knocked out of me and was in agony, lying there in inky blackness, surrounded by the quiet shroud of the forest. I didn't know it then, but I had cracked two ribs. It would feel like someone was hitting me with a baseball bat every time I coughed or sneezed, for weeks.

I finally got up and tried to gingerly jog a little, but by then the night was fully upon me and I could not see at all. I was also terrified I would fall again. The additional pain, on top of what I was already experiencing, would have been nauseating. So I started walking, bumping into trees and having no bearing as to whether I was heading north, south, east, or west. It was terrible. I realized there was a possibility I would be spending the night in the forest.

I kept walking and eventually found my way to the gravel road, and from there I made it to the lighted street. I walked into a small fast-food place on the edge of town in order to ask them to call me a cab. I remember the few people in the place, along with the staff, looking at me with concern and horror as I entered. I didn't think I looked that bad, but upon using the restroom to clean up a little I saw myself in the mirror. I was dimly aware I had scratched/cut my face a little when I fell, but I wasn't prepared for what I saw. I had made contact with something sharp in my right eyebrow area, and there was a semi-coagulated substantial trickle of blood that ran the length of my face and down my neck. Because I had touched/scratched my face quite a few times after the incident, I had also smeared it around my nose, cheeks, and neck. There were bloody fingerprint wipes all over my shirt. I looked terrible. I inspected the cut and gingerly opened it to see how deep it was. With dismay, I realized right away that I needed a few stitches.

I cleaned up as best as I could and made my way back out, apologizing to the staff about my appearance; mumbling something about falling while running, then got in the cab and went right to the hospital where I got stitched up and then received and x-ray to confirm the cracked ribcage. It was a run I will never forget.

I was 11 years old. I would typically go 'exploring' on my runs, head out in the same direction 3-4 miles than turn around and head back. One day, I missed a turn on the way back and ended up in the ghetto. Took me about an hour to find my way back.

My parents thought I just ran around the neighborhood when I went running, to this day they don't know how far from home I used to go.

I was running out and back on a quiet ice and snow packed rural road with some drifting. I was running on the left side of road into traffic and could see a plow approaching, spreading gravel, with the blade up. So I started to cross the street to run with traffic and give him room to do his job. Share the road. But there was a blind corner with a hill behind me and I could here another vehicle coming up traveling my direction. I knew the second vehicle coming up behind wouldn't be able to see me or the oncoming plow until the last second. So I moved back to the plow side. But the plow politely drifted over the center line to give me a little room and probably questioned my sanity. Oh crap, there is barely a shoulder on this road even in the summer. He had no idea there was a pickup truck approaching in the opposite direction just around the bend. I just waved my arms in attempt to warn the plow and jumped off the road into a drift. It wasn't a clean launch and I landed awkwardly. I didn't even see them pass. But I could hear the crunch of the plow tires correcting it's path and felt that plow blade turbulence as it passed. When I looked up through my suddenly crooked, fogged glasses, I watched the pickup oversteering out of an icy swerve. I looked back and the plow was already out of sight, over the hill and around the corner. Snowy backwash was still lingering in the air, twinkling in scattered light. My shoes were filled with snow. It was just a few seconds of my life on an otherwise quiet and peaceful winter run. I had a stiff drink that night.

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lollerama wrote:
I saw myself in the mirror. I was dimly aware I had scratched/cut my face a little when I fell, but I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

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I was home for summer break in college. My parents lived in the country, and there were many miles of farmland a half mile from their house. My favorite runs were on the farm roads over rolling hills through fields of corn.

I often ran at night, and had a weak little headlamp I would use on the farm roads. One summer night, I was out around 10pm on my favorite dirt road. The farms weren't planted yet, so it was just wide open land in any direction. A full moon was out and I found I could see well enough to run without the headlamp.

About 2 miles into my run I spotted a pickup parked a good ways off the road. Headlights were on and pointed in my direction, but I was too far away to be very well illuminated. Suddenly I heard 3 gunshots and the bullets as they whizzed past me. Those dumb f***s thought I was a coyote. I dropped to the ground, shouted a long stream profanity in their direction, and flashed my headlamp at them. They hopped in their truck and FLEW out of there.

Dumba$$ rednecks.