The Thursday running group headed over to Baxter Woods yesterday to...well, run. It was a welcome break from the Back Cove which, as lovely as it is, was starting to get monotonous. That's what I thought, anyway, before the reality of running in the woods really set in.

Baxter Woods, off Stevens Ave., is a great place to walk (yourself or your dog) and it has within it's forested confines a looped trail that measures 1,000 yards (so I'm told). The entire loop is also on a slope, so either direction you go, one side will be up hill and one side will be down. And when I say hill, I mean HILL. An I-want-to-collapse-and-die kind of hill.

Those in the slower pace group (i.e., me) ran 800 of the 1,000 yards, then walked the final 200. Some did two laps, some three. A handful of us hearty folks stuck it out and did four.

The view wasn't too shabby and there's a distinctive coolness in the woods. There's also the distinctive presence of mosquitoes, who were no doubt overjoyed to see a herd of sweaty, barelegged runners traipsing through.

A tiny bite here, a tiny bite there. At least it was a distraction from the throbbing in my quads.

When we finally walked - I mean ran - out of there, I had keep pausing to either scratch something or rub off a clump of bug guts. You know, when you hit the mosquitoe just right and it's belly full of blood smears across your leg and you go "ewww" and look for a place to wipe it, but you're in Baxter Woods and it's not like you have a tissue with you so you resort to wiping it on your shorts, which is nearly just as gross. It happens. I'm just saying. Talk about running ugly.

It was a good change of pace - but don't attempt it without the bug spray.

I've seen the way people run on TV and in Runner's World magazine - perfect form, controlled breathing, hair flicking in the wind and just enough sweat to enhance an already perfect tan on already perfect calves.

I don't run like that - and I imagine not many real world runners run like that. But my run isn't just unpretty - it's ugly.

One mile into tonight's group run 'round the Back Bay (not yet ALL the way around - we're working up to it) I could feel the normal flush of my cheeks steadily increasing. Soon enough the skin on my face was not only pulsing with heat, but flaming red (which, I imagine, was made even more apparent by the pasty winter whiteness of the rest of my skin).

By mile two the sweat on my head - combined with the strong wind off the water - had spun my hair into a knotted mess in the back and two frizzy, wing-like puffs on the sides.

Nearing mile three I was running like a drunkard, panting and borderline snotty.

But I didn't notice - or didn't care - and I finished with my group. Three miles we covered - 7 minutes running/2 walking - which may not seem like much to some, but wasn't easy for me.

Had I been alone, I might've cut out early and gone home for some quality time with the sofa. But that's the cool thing about a group - not that other people inspire you, per se, but that you're so terrified of looking like a lazy jerk, you keep going.

It wasn't until I got into the car that I spotted my terrifying transformation in the rear view mirror.

I ran ugly - which really means that I worked incredibly hard - and I must say I feel pretty dang proud.

Run ugly everybody.