Trail snobs

Last week I wore a new pair of road running shoes for the first time. Exciting times, as any runner knows, nothing fires the synapses like gear. So, why is this worthy of my (and hopefully your) attentions? It’s notable because said new shoes, Altra Torun 4, have been in my cupboard since May. Stowed away because in that time I have not once ventured out for a run exclusively on the road.

I live in the urban Black Country, but have on my doorstep the bucolic South Staffordshire countryside, trails linked by an extensive canal network, woods and the wonderful Clent Hills. I regularly traverse three counties in 5-10 mile runs taking in a mix of road, bridal path, gnarly trails and wonderful hills with panoramic views of Birmingham, Worcestershire and the Shropshire Hills. Why would I want to run anywhere else?

But, the fact is I rarely see anybody when I’m out. Lockdown exercise certainly increased footfall (much to my chagrin), but I run in blissful isolation or in select company.

Conversely, when I drive about the streets are full of the gamut of the running community. The serious pace merchants, the plodders, the couch to 5kers, the groups and the being dragged by a dog..ers.

I love to see people running, it warms my heart. They’re actively trying to improve something, their mental health, waistline, life expectancy, a charities coffers or a personal best. It’s beyond reproach, they’re doing it, other aren’t, its dead cool.

But, I’ve assumed a position of superiority on the basis that they spend their precious time flogging tarmac and breathing fumes. They don’t experience the pleasure of absolute forest silence with a blinkered view enabled only by the beam of a head torch. They know nothing of being ankle deep in mud and animal shit. They’ve never known the exhilaration of being chased by a cow.

I’m a trail snob.

Why? What is the psychopathology of being such a thing?

1. We think we’re more hardcore. Obviously running 5 miles on a bridal path in Worcestershire puts me in the same ‘Outdoorsman’ category of those legends of the outdoors like Killian Journet, Alan Quartermain et al.
2. We think the gear is cooler. We turn our nose up at those brand that could just as easily be seen on the body of a footballer or tennis player. I don’t want to pay £20 for a t-shirt when I can spend £40 because the same brand makes walking boots! I need the protection, obviously.
3. We can qualify our slowness. Extra points for when you make it quite clear in the description on Strava that the run you were on was a ‘Trail’, a hill or really shitty! GOP is all that matters.
4. If a runner falls over in the woods and there was no one there to hear them shout ‘F*@!king bastard’ did they make a sound? You don’t get that kind of action running passed Aldi.

In truth I enjoyed my road run, in fact I’ve done a few more recently. Not all the time, for the reasons listed above, but its amazing what actually reveals itself in your urban space, particularly at night when the traffic has died down and you don’t feel as much like an dispensable extra from The Running Man. It challenges me physiologically and psychologically in that the movement is relentless and time/pace becomes more of a factor, its a great barometer of where I’m at.

So although outwardly I shall always be a trail snob, a little part of me does have a place for the tarmac and street furniture.