Let me
begin by saying that this trail race at the US National Whitewater Center is
high on my list of favorite local races.
Period. It’s rare that one can
race 13 miles of well-kept single track without retracing one’s steps. To have such a well organized race at such a
great facility is an opportunity all local runners should seize.
Those
who ran the race or paid attention to the weather on January 21st
might remember the steady, dreary rainfall that persisted through most of the
morning and all of the previous night.
One might think this would make for miserable running conditions,
especially on rugged trails, but I think the mucky terrain was part of what
made this run so fun. When running on a
road, rain or shine, every step is pretty much the same. Road races or training runs feel like
exercise. However, on the trails, no two
footfalls are the same, and the race or run feels more like a wilderness
adventure. Add slick, muddy, uncertain
footing to the mix, and boredom ceases to exist.
More
than 700 runners showed up for this adventure, and just fewer than 200 of us
were running the 13 mile race. The rest
were running either the 9 mile or 4 mile options. I ran into several fellow members of Davidson
Area Running Team, including Bill Weimer and Bobby Aswell, Jr., who were
running the 4 mile race; and Mike Molina, who was running the 9 miler. Bobby got a great photo of Bill and me before
the race—both us sporting our obnoxious, neon running gear. Also present were fellow DARTers Emily
Hansen, Jason Gardner, Steve Bradley, and Joey Walsh, but I did not have much
of a chance to catch up with them before the run. Mike saddled up next to me at the start. This was to be Mike’s last run before his
marathon in Miami the following weekend, so he was planning to take it easy and
have some fun on the trails. I told him
to heat up the coffee and save some food for me at the finish.
The
start of the race made for some fast and crowded foot traffic. The first 400 yards included a gravel parking
lot and some wide foot paths that allowed the large pack to space out before
jumping into the trails. As soon as we
entered the single track of the park’s North Point trail, the quick pace slowed
to a relative crawl. A dozen yards into
the tree line lay a short but steep downhill covered in red clay mud. The backed-up traffic forced me to walk down
this 10-step hill, which was more than a little frustrating. I wanted to conserve my energy for the length
of the race, but I had to make a move since the pack was moving too slowly to
let me get into a rhythm. With so many
runners lined up on the single track, I had to pass 3 or 4 people at a time
with short bursts of acceleration whenever I had the slightest opening. I made several of these aggressive moves in
the first 2 miles until I found a pack of 4 other runners who were keeping a
quick pace with which I was comfortable.
The
North Point was a loop of trail that was tailor made for a minimalist runner
like me. The steep uphills were great
for high-cadence scampering, and they often led into fast, technical
downhills. My approach to these rapid
descents could be described as brazen or perhaps a little reckless. For me, more speed = more control. A body at race pace wants to stay at race
pace (thank you, Sir Isaac Newton), so if I were to throw on the brakes in the
name of caution, I most likely would slide out and lose control. Instead, I let the downhill carry me quickly
forward and so my focus could shift solely to foot placement. It’s more fun than a roller coaster, and
there are no waiting lines to boot.
After
passing from group to group, and making up a lot of quick ground between packs,
I had overtaken good 40 or so runners in the first 3 miles of the course. I found my rhythm and focused on breathing
and pacing myself so I wasn’t tapped out before the last few miles of the race. The North Point gave way to Goat Hill, which
contained the most demanding series of climbs on the course. I settled in behind two 9 milers for much of
the climb. I only passed a few people on
the ascent to the top of Goat Hill, opting instead to keep a steady forward jpg
on the sharp switchbacks. Some other
racers were already walking at this point.
After
descending Goat Hill and climbing a steep incline on a service road, the course
wound its way through the Toilet Bowl.
On the trail map, the Toilet Bowl section of the course resembles a
plate of spaghetti, but there were still plenty of opportunities to pass other
runners by darting around sharp corners and hopping over rock obstacles Jackie
Chan style. For a quarter mile of this
section, the 13 milers split away from the 9 milers to add a few more twists
and turns. Upon joining the same path
with them once again, I saw some familiar faces. Hadn’t I passed these 9 milers a few miles
back? Now, I would have to make my way
around them all over again!
Emerging from the Toilet Bowl (…I
guess that sounds bad), we crossed an open field between tree lines and made
our way toward the Lake Loop. Here, the
9 milers would break away for the finish, but I still had a few miles left to
run. The Lake Loop was a welcome last
leg of a foot race. It was scenic, relatively
flat, and the footing was fairly secure.
If this were a road half-marathon, I would be hurting pretty badly at
this point, but the wet trail and the cool temperature kept me invigorated to
the very end on this day.
I broke
out of the tree line 800 yards from the finish.
A pursuer in a white tech shirt—who I later learned was called
James—caught up to me and passed me looking strong. The wide open double track turned into a
steep, muddy downhill, so I punched the throttle. I whizzed by James and 3 other runners, but
James tenaciously kept me in reach. We
were shoulder-to-shoulder when the finish line appeared ahead, and we tacitly
were egging one another on. “C’mon,
man!” I urged. By the last 100 yards,
James had passed me decisively, but having that competition to the very end
provided for a strong and satisfying finish.
I greeted James at the end of the chute and thanked him for pushing me,
and he acknowledged me with a hand shake and an out-of-breath smile. My cheering wife was waiting at the finish,
as well as Mike, who snapped a nice photo of me at the finish line. I ran the 13 miles in 1 hour, 42 minutes, and
16 seconds for a 7:52 minute/mile pace.
Considering the hazardous conditions, I am very pleased with those
numbers. Out of the 13 mile pack, I
finished 18th overall.
It’s
worth mentioning that I definitely chose the right shoes for the job. New Balance really hit the nail on the head
with the MT 110. It’s light, it grips a
hundred times better than previous NB trail racers, it has a snug, secure fit
from toe box to heel cup, and it drains pretty well after having been submerged
in muddy water a few times. I decided to
wear socks to keep from getting blisters, and I’m glad I did. The socks (which came free in some other race
packet a few months ago) were totally wrecked by the end of the day, but there
sacrifice was well worth it.
I also
must say that I am happy I chose not to wear my GPS watch for this race. First, the winding trails would have caused
the GPS readings for distance and pace to be highly inaccurate. Second, even if the GPS were spot on, this is
a race where one really should be paying attention to his or her surroundings
instead of obsessing over splits and average pace readings.
The
more time I spend on the trails, the more I fall in love with them. If you do not consider yourself a trail
runner, I suggest getting on some nice single track—or even some finely groomed
cross-country course—and finding trail legs on a few easy run days. Running on trails can be addictive, but we
runners already know a little something about addiction.
Next on my race calendar (for now):
2/4/12: Winter Flight 8K – Salisbury, NC
3/2/12: Umstead Trail Marathon – Raleigh, NC
5/6/12: Long Cane 50K – Abbeville, SC
9/29/12: Hinson Lake 24 Hour Classic – Ellerbe, NC
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