It’s been far too long since I’ve spent time with my running friends aka the Luna B*tches. The pandemic, school schedules, spring break and assorted pesky injuries have prevented us from running together for months.

To be completely honest, I haven’t run without them either. For an array of reasons, running hasn’t appealed to me since February when my Achilles inexplicably began to bother me. And, for the first time in years, I didn’t even miss it.

Last weekend, though, we finally together for a day of fun. At least the way we define “fun,” that is. The plan? Hiking the Seven Sisters trail outside of Amherst, MA, followed by a late lunch at a nearby favorite spot.

This adventure was familiar ground for C and me. We’ve twice before run this course reputed to be one of those most technical trail runs in the Northeast and lived to tell the tale. It’s been 3 or 4 years, though, and I was excited to experience the challenging trail in a more leisurely manner.

We took our time getting there, but managed to park and get feet on the ground by about 11:00. From the number of cars in the main lot it seemed we were not alone in our desire to experience this scenic and beautiful hike. The new CDC guidelines about masks and vaccination status and outdoor activities apparently were heard. We started our climb.

The first mile or two were occupied with getting up to speed with one another after months of limited contact. Our pace was easy and the weather was cooperative with a mix of clouds and sunshine and comfortable temperatures. Despite the week’s rains, the mud on the trail was minimal and the views were as scenic as I remembered.

What I hadn’t remembered was how absolutely gnarly* the path up and down the mountains was. I’ve joked before about how this trail plays a mind trick akin to the amnesia women often experience after childbirth. I simply didn’t recall how absolutely insane this trail was, nor could I comprehend how we ever ran this course! The two times C and I completed the Seven Sisters Trail Race will never cease to impress – both me and the numerous people we passed on the trail who noted our matching event tshirts from 2017. Yes, sir. We are badass broads, just like you said – and no, we didn’t plan to wear our matching shirts.

In the past, of course, we trained for the event, while Sunday’s hike was a much more casual approach. While I was a bit concerned about what my abilities might be after not running for a couple of months, I was really satisfied with my stamina and strength and the next day beyond a tightness in my left calf, I felt great. Thank you, yoga practice.

We didn’t complete the entire Seven Sister’s race course, opting instead to turn back at the Summit House, which made the hike somewhere between 8 and 9 miles round trip. We caught a little light rain on the way back, but not enough to do much more than cool us off from our exertions. It was a fantastic afternoon.

I’m not certain that I aspire to ever run that course again, but I’d be more than happy to hike there again. Especially if I can reward the effort expended with a visit to Atkins Farm for a celebratory meal. That place is gem which offers prepared foods, sandwiches, baked goods, beers and wines and ice cream, all of terrific quality at a fair price.

If you appreciate beautiful women who challenge, the Sisters just might be what you’re looking for.

*A word I don’t often use, but the only one to describe the challenges of the combination of roots, leaves and loose shale.