Did you know that running in the rain is one of my favorite past-times? Magic happens in the rain. Meditative, calming, purposeful magic. I've had quite a string of races in the rain or inclimate weather. I hope they continue.
The start was slow, since the crowd of 200 has to wait their turn to enter the singletrack and cross the footbridge before ascending the first hill of the day. I took the time to say hello to Heather, who was last year's female winner. She flew down the steep and technical decline off of Blackhead, passed me as if she were a freight train and I were standing still. I told her I expected no less this year.
With a few more ultras under my belt and a lot more regular mileage this year, my ascent up the first hill was significantly more power hiking. Nathan told me the night before that I am always very conservative in races and that this time I should go for it. Knowing the climbs that awaited, and with my big goal race only a month and a half away, I couldn't help but fall into my usual ascending gear. As the switch-backs became more directly steep I was able to begin passing those who jogged their way past their anaerobic threshold. The few times I checked over my shoulder found Nathan within fifty yards each time.
We hit the first aid station at the top of the climb, a giant bolder with a three foot drop to the trail before winding back down. People were already falling and tripping over the endless rocks that make east coast trails so technical. The line of runners had slowed, especially as people took aid, so when three fells teetered toward the water and gatorade I crossed oblique to the continuing trail. Just at the edge I slipped. Both feet went at once, and I simply landed on the trail standing on my feet, with one hand on the shoulder of Green Singlet Guy. I thanked him, and started our way down.
The line of runners greatly compacted so that any technical drop meant waiting an extra 10-15 seconds before taking your turn. I started getting frustrated, though I reminded myself that I probably was not descending much faster over those same spots. I have improved with my descents though I don't have much access to this level of technical training, so granny-gear it was.
While squashed in yet another queue on a ledge I met Mr. Blue Tank as elbowed me to the side, claiming "Passing left." Seriously, where are you doing to go? He was bigger than me and so got past before I had a chance to knock some sense into him about maintaining safety and courtesy while passing. He tried the same crap with Green Singlet Guy who held ground, "Dude, you gotta wait until there's some place to go." Mr. Blue obliged with a petty "Aw, sorry man. Okay." F***er.
The traverse over the next two "smaller" ups/downs was a bit tedious thanks to Mr. Blue, whose Salomon Speedcross did no good for his stability. He kept running (well, more like when aerobics class routine rests while marching in place) uphill and slipped every fifth step, a handful of them falls. I just wanted to get away from him, but there wasn't much chance. Plus, in order to pass him I'd have to run the gauntlet that was Mr. Wobbly Blue. I prefer to stay positive during races, and he was most definitely detracting from the magic. A guy behind me murmured "He's gotta slow down. He's really gonna hurt himself."
As one of he climbs leveled off a volunteer/race supported was up in a tree counting off our current place. 70... 71... 72... 73... 5th female... 75... 76.... Wobble Poop and another guy exchanged huffy commends about four women being in front of them. They obviously wanted to sound macho like they could avoid getting "chicked." Too bad, f***ckers, they've already smoked you royally.
Suddenly from up ahead we heard yelling. "Bees! Bees! Ah! Bees!" The guys ahead slowed as they reached that point. My sentiments were echoed by the same guy behind me, "Just go through fast and leave them alone." Finally my turn, and I'm behind Weeble Wobble who, like clockwork, fell splat onto his side half way through the bee run and nearly took me out with him. He also managed to get stung along the way. I was at a standstill waiting for him to get up, opted to give a half hearted, "You okay? Got all your stuff still?" He mumbled "Yea..." and off we trotted again.
For the record, me: no actual falls, zero stings. Mr. Wobbly Blue Poophead Magic Killer: a dozen falls, at least one bee sting.
Just saying.
We survived the long, steep, technical descend and landed at the base of Blackhead. Wobble was, mercifully, somewhere out of my face. I realized now that Nathan was still within reach behind me. Way to go! That was a much nicer sentiment with which to begin the climb. Last year I had my hands on my knees the entire time, my pace slowed to a crawl, and I had to stop a few times briefly so as to exert a laborious sigh (because that helps in such times, right?). This year was dramatically different. I was itching to pass the guy in front of me, but his pace was steady enough for the first half that I kept right on his heels. Once his cadence started slowing I asked to sneak by when had a chance (politely!) and kept on trucking. By then I had lost Nathan. I felt it, but not like before. I felt steady. I wasn't speed climbing like the leaders, but my ascent was probably only 3/4 the time it took last year. Magic, salvaged from the doom of wobbleness.
This is what the top chunk of Blackhead's climb looks like, to give you an idea. The video is of Ben Nephew, the same Naked Bald Guy from Traprock and Escarpment last year. He has won Escarpment some 7 (or more?) times and still holds the course record.
The descent similarly required, for me, use of both hands on trees and to slide down on my butt for some of the drops. My wedding band kept catching along the way, so I removed it and tucked it inside the magnetically closed mini pocket on my hydration bag. (UltrAspire bags? Awesome.) I push myself to descend faster than usual, but it probably only qualifies as granny gear-gear-in-a-rush. I found myself nicely in pace with guys in blue and white tank who was running Escarpment for the 21st time. Should he run next year, that'll put him into the 400 mile club (enough races to accumulate 400 miles of this race). He's an awfully nice fellow to everyone, the type one often encounters at trail ultras. I now feel renewed hope for the human race. I also find out he lived in Auburn, NY for a bit, and he gets excited to hear than Nathan is from there too. We found out while chatting after the race that they had the same cross country coach, albeit many years between their tenures.
Out of nowhere came a female voice asking to pass. "It's about time!" I yelled. "Go for it!" Heather squealed with delight as she bombed past. Deja vu. Couldn't be happier to have anyone else pass me. Well, only were it Nathan, but that goes without saying.
Eventually we get to the bottom. I still felt some pep, and took off on my power hike to catch Heather on the ascent. This last climb has two false top-outs with runnable though rocky sections. You just have to assume continued climbing until you see the crashed plane. First timers, including myself last year, want to anticipate how they are doing and thus anticipate their progress toward the top. In this kind of race it leads to frustration more than anything else. Just assume up, and be pleasantly surprised when you suddenly top out and can course down. I passed a handful of guys on this climb, their pace slowed to a walk/hike from having lost their steam. I wondered how Nathan was doing. A few of the guys reported one or two females within the next couple hundred feet ahead. I lost my sprinting overdrive when I left high school track, but I started hoofing it on all terrain to the most I could sustain.
At what turned out to be about 100 yards before the plane I happily powered past Wobble for what would be the last time, so focused that the internal wobble-woes were gone and I simply smiled as I passed, and then found Heather. We exchanged supportive words, and I left her with "I gotta get as big of a buffer as I can. I know I'll see you soon!" The rest of the course was a handful of flat sections breaking up the one long descent to the finish. If flat or inclined I had definite advantage, but for declined Heather was guaranteed to catch up fast. She also reported the third female was just ahead and catchable. I don't think I've ever been so close to so many women vying for that third podium spot in a trail race before. Thankfully the needed effort is easier on an 18 mile race than with my usual distances.
A few flats and downs, and I saw the woman currently holding third place. She seemed to have faded. We exchanged a few nice words, and I took off knowing my position was nowhere near guaranteed. Still booking it on the flats, catching a few more guys in the process. Trying my best concerted effort on the technical drops but just not capable of doing nearly what is needed. The flat sections became narrow overlooks or ledges with twenty-plus foot drops off one side. Last year I walked these, opting for calm and steady progress to finish whole in lieu of speed. This year I went for it, Nathan's words echoing in my head. I slipped on one ledge, my left leg sliding off the edge and dangling as I landed - graciously - on bulky soft tissue areas instead of on my knees. Glad the ledge had no sideways slant, or else I'd have flown off course and would be stuck in the brush way down below. As I got up the guy ahead yelled "That just happened to me too!" and he wished me luck as I passed in continued fervor.
As expected, Heather caught me again while I was using both hands to help slide down on some four-plus foot drops. She was still encouraging, "You have lots more left than me. Go for it!" "I'm trying, really I am! You go for it, Miss Downhill!" I still tried, yo-yo-ing up on flats and falling back on declines, managing to stay within 50 feet. A supporter reported we were a tenth of a mile from the finish. I gave it my best "sprint," which is quite the comical scene these days.
I closed in was only about five seconds behind Heather, but ultimately finished fourth female and 49th overall in 4:20:44. That bested my time from last year by about seven and a half minutes, so cannot argue with that.
Nathan finished in just over 4:33, and had a bloody knee and elbow from taking four falls along the way.
