I returned today to Burnaby Lake and the Conifer Loop, to see if I could find that tree root that will forever mock me, at least until the trail is resurfaced and it is buried under a crushing load of fresh gravel, which it should be. Or set on fire. I’m not fussy which.
As I was approaching from the opposite direction I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find the spot. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find the spot at all, really, because the trail looks pretty much the same over long stretches. You got your gravel, your trees and other nature stuff. It’s very idyllic and peaceful when your exposed skin isn’t skidding on the gravel part. I remembered a few details, though. I knew it was before I got to the point where the Spruce Loop and Conifer Loop meet, I knew it was in a shaded area and I knew it wasn’t on a corner. This narrowed my search down to a section that was probably still several hundred meters long, most of which looks the same.
But I think I found it.
The shot below is from a “midway to face-planting on the ground” perspective, looking in the same direction as I was running yesterday. That is to say, I took the shot while crouching. The root is near the bottom center of the photo. You will observe several things:
- It’s a very pretty trail
- This particular stretch of the trail is what one might call sun-dappled. One might also call it a mix of sun and shade that makes it hard to see objects on the ground, especially when moving at high speed
- That is one seriously big tree root to accidentally trip on, so I suggest I was dazzled by #1 and ultimately felled by #2
I think when I run on Monday I’m going to skip the optional Spruce Loop/Conifer Loop combo. There are plenty of other exposed roots to trip on (the Cottonwood trail, which stretches for several km, has a bunch of them and in similar lighting conditions) but it seems a little too playing-with-fire to follow up the fall by running the exact same route. Or maybe I’m just paranoid.
No, I know I’m paranoid. Every root will no longer present itself as something to be simply stepped over, but as a potential trip to the emergency room. I’ll think about wearing my fingerless biking gloves to protect my hands. I’ll wear a helmet. I’ll actually run inside a human-sized hamster ball.
Or maybe I’ll overcome my fear by remembering that I completed 448 runs without tripping and falling.
Maybe.