A Running Fool....Ron's Running Adventures

I Think I Can...I Think I Can...

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 01:56:07 GMT

It's funny how some things from your childhood just seem to stick into the deep recesses of your mind. But the real curious phenomenon is how and when these relics from our past surface. For those that may not quite understand the title of this entry, it comes from the classic children's tale of "The Little Engine That Could". In that classic story a small steam engine uses the above chant to get himself up and over a challenging uphill. Proving to everyone and himself that he can. I can't recall the first time I heard that tale or why I've remembered that one phrase all my life. But for some unexplained reason it was the predominant thought repeating over and over in my mind as I slowly shuffled my feet, one in front of the other, making slow but continued progress up the Mt. Washington Auto Road.

Having completed this race the previous year, I had returned for a second attempt. Or as my family had thought, foolishly returned. Having not gotten enough punishment, I once again entered the lottery back in March. And lo & behold I once again was lucky (or unlucky some would say) enough to be granted entry. With my good buddy and ice climbing partner JT also entered I looked forward to the first of only 2 road races I would run this year. Having been through the race last year, this year's preparation was much more relaxed, without the stress of the unknown. Race logistics were a breeze as my sister once again volunteered to drive us down the mountain. I quickly found another runner to join on the ride down and even made lodging reservations for the same place we stayed in last year. It almost seemed routine. And it partly was, that is until the running started.....

Having the early part of my trail racing schedule behind me, the Mt. Washington race marks the 1/3 point of my season. I now had 4 Grand Tree events behind me (Northern Nipmuck, 7 Sisters, Soapstone Half-Marathon & The Nipmuck Marathon) & 4 to go (People's Forest, Pisgah, Breakneck & Stone Cat), with a few other races sprinkled in (Soapstone Assault, Jay's Challenge, Mt Mansfield Auto Rd & The Vermont 50). Having run a race every other week since the end of April I would have a month off after Mt. Washington until my next race (Jay Challenge) so I knew I could give as much effort as I could. And having run this race last year, I knew I would need to.

Race preliminary's were predictable and uneventful as I got to town and settled in. I meet our other runner (David Dorman) at the race check in at the Eagle Mtn. House. Being a race veteran now, I decided to skip the informational meeting and went out to a nice dinner with the family at Flatbread and rested up the morning's challenge. Race morning was similarly quiet. Arriving at the base of the auto road and getting verbally assaulted by the "cowboy" race official we found our parking spot and settled in for the long wait. Those that know me, know that this is the toughest time for me. All that built up anxiety and nervous energy make time almost stand still. All I want to do at that point is to start running.

With my sister already gone up the mountain, and since this event is not geared towards spectators, I sent the family off to Lost River Gorge. The two hour wait for the race start just wasn't enough to keep two 10 year-olds and two 8 year-olds entertained. Before long I located JT and his wife Lisa. JT had followed my (foolish) advice and entered the lottery as well. Having been accepted he would be attempting his first run up the auto road that he has been known to despise. Well, the auto road now had it's chance to exact a measure of revenge on him. I could sense the excitement in him as we tried to relax and kill the remaining time, positioning ourselves away from all the hub-bub at the big tent. Lisa departed for a” quick" ride down to Gorham and back (via bicycle).

At last it was time to line up. With a blast from the cannon we were off, proceeding ironically downhill for the first 1/4 mile. Almost immediately we were going uphill. Settling into a mid-race shuffle just as quickly. My main memory from last year was just how quickly the field settled in mid-race mode. There was little to no race chat or whooping or hollering. All one could hear was the shuffling of feet and labored breathing. Sticking together JT and I slowly (as if there is any other way) made our way.

Coming into the race this year I had only two stated goals. First, and the most challenging, was to run for as long as I could at the start of the race before taking a walk break. Last year I had just barely made it to the 1 mile mark before walking. Now, as I shuffled along I was surprised to see the Mile 1 sign so quickly. I confidently continued along focusing on a conservative but very steady pace. "Just keep running, just keep running..."

Running through the first water stop I made sure to take a cup from the toddler handing them out. Glancing up ahead as my watch hit 25:00, I passed the Mile 2 marker. "Wow, I've doubled my effort from last year" I thought as I continued on. With the race being a total of 7.6 miles, I convinced myself I might have a shot at making it half way without stopping. Despite my conservative and steady pace, I was beginning to tire. Having forgotten my handheld bottle at home, I was entirely dependent on the water stations for hydration. With the weather being quite nice, I was warm and sweating profusely. I had to be careful. After all, what good would it be to run to the halfway point and struggle the rest of the race. What would that prove?

As I continued my ascent, I shifted my focus to not only run as far as I could but also plan on saving energy for the second half of the race. My shuffle was now down to a pace barley above a walk, but I was still running. It was at this point I tapped into those deep recesses of my subconscious, summoning those stories of yesteryear to inspire and motivate me to keep moving forward. "I Think I Can...I Think I Can...". Like a mantra I chanted it over and over in my oxygen starved brain. "I Think I Can...I Think I Can...".

"It that...? Could it be? Yes, it is....3 Miles! Wow! Only .8 miles to half way". Only .8 miles huh? The longest .8 miles I've ever run, without question. It seemed twice as far. "I Think I Can...I Think I Can...". "There it is". With the race clock reading 52:00+, I motored on. Pushed along by high of having met, for me, an astounding goal. I now knew I was reaching into unknown physical and mental territory. I could sense the mental edge I had over the runners around me as I plodded along. They would run ahead and then like the Tortoise (from another childhood tale) I would slowly run by them as took as walk break. With each pass I felt more determined.

Looking off to my right I could see over to Mt Adams and down into the Great Gulf. All that work and effort was well worth seeing that view. I am always amazed at how alive and refreshed a spectacular view can make one feel. You almost forget the difficulties and hardships you endure to be blessed with the sight before you. My respite was to be short lived however. By now my steady shuffle was barely perceptible as a run. Sensing my rising heart rate and my dwindling energy reserves I took about 10 steps past the 4 mile marker and finally slowed to walk my first step of the race.

My focus quickly shifted to keeping a quick paced walk, while also allowing my body to recover as quickly as possible. I decided to to attempt a 3:2 ratio for the next mile (3 minutes running, 2 walking), however as the course wound it's way up the lonnnngg dirt section I knew this was not feasible and resigned myself to walking most of mile 4-5. After what turned out to be a 16 minute mile I finally hit the 5 mile mark and began my run-walk to finish the race. I was now settled into a group of the same runners and we played that familiar game of leapfrog.

Staying focused I made sure to run strong and hard as I passed the "photographers ahead" sign. Now above tree line and with the cool breeze I had to make sure I kept moving to keep warm. I now began to see the familiar signs and knew I was getting closer to the finish. Across the last "flat" section and around the bend. I could hear the cheering in the distance. I steeled myself to accomplish my second stated goal of the race, the run up "the wall". That final 22% grade hill. I rounded a corner and heard my sister cheering above the crowd. Gritting my teeth and letting out a final long grunt I gave what effort was left in me. "I Think I Can...I Think I Can...".

Stepping across the line I was filled with an enormous amount of pride. A deep sense of accomplishment that comes when one pushes oneself into, and through, that physical and mental unknown. Even now, sitting here two weeks later typing this report, I can still feel it.

Overall it was another memorable event. Not only did I accomplish the 2 goals I aimed for but I even improved on my time from last year (1:47:03). I think the part I am most proud of is that I RAN for the first 4 miles. I couldn't ask for a better race.

My buddy JT also had a successful event, finishing in his first attempt. He even made the big time, getting a write up in the local paper, even I haven't gotten that privilege yet. You can read the article here (check out the 2nd half): HTTP://caledonianrecord.com/main.asp?SectionID=2&subsectionID=2&articleID=40277

I've come to learn over these years running that it isn't where you are going to that matters, it's the journey along the way. It's journey I don't see ending anytime soon....and like that Little Engine That Could, I no longer think I can....I know I can.

The Longest of Journey's.... Begins with a Single Step

Sat, 14 Jun 2008 00:05:31 GMT

The Long Trail sign marking the official start of the trail on the MA/VT border.

Immediately after completing The Nipmuck Marathon (the next day) I set about to begin my "Rest-Of-My-Life Section Hike" of the Long Trail/Appalachian Trail (See Re-Routes & Trail Conditions..... blog entry). The following are entries made in both Trail Registers and in my Trail Journal throughout my week long hike. These thoughts and writings are unedited from when I entered them.

Jen & I on Phelps Ave. in North Adams, MA.

Day One - Monday, June 2, 2008
Phelps Ave., North Adams, MA -> MA/VT State Line, Long Trail Southern Terminus (via Appalachian Trail) - 3.8 Miles, Long Trail Southern Terminus -> Congdon Shelter - 10.0 Miles

The Great Adventure Begins!
Today I begin The "Rest-Of-My-Life Section Hike" of the Long Trail/Appalachian Trail. As Lao Tzu said, "the longest of journey's begins with a single step. A tougher than expected first day. Began at Rte. 2 in North Adams around 10:00 AM, finally hit the shelter at 7:20 PM. Staying at Congdon Shelter near Stamford Stream. Nice site but crowded. Shelter full and 4 tents setup (not counting ours). Hiked hard today. Jen had tough time later in the day. Camp setup by 8:00 PM. Too tired to cook. Snacks and then bed.....Nighty-Night. All I can hear is the river running and Jen crunching.....

Highlight of the day: Jen getting stuck climbing over a blown down tree.....HAHA!

Our hike begins......on a road....

Hitting my strideon the approach trail (The AT)...

Jen walking the plank....

Jen learns to "negotiate" the first of many blowdowns....

At the official start of the Long Trail on the MA/VT border, 3.8 miles in...

Day Two - Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Congdon Shelter -> Bennington, VT - 4.3 Miles

Jen Departs :(
Slept in and took time breaking camp. Rough night sleep after tossing and turning. Numerous visits from the "Mystery Creature" kept Jen and I distracted all night. Felt very sticky and grimy, sticking to my sleeping bag. I can usually put up with being gross but this was the worst. Took time to wash up and shave in the AM and felt like a whole new person. Jen still stiff. Hit trail around 9:00 AM headed towards Rte. 9. A steady uphill got us to Harmon Hill around noon. A long steep descent down the never ending rock steps and we came out to Rte. 9 around 2:00 PM. Spent an hour by the river soaking our feet and snacking. After our break Jen decided to head into Bennington and have Jess pick her up. Hitched a ride into town and got a room for the night. Enjoyed a pizza and a beer (and a shower). Jen and Jess will drop me back at trail in AM.

Highlight of the day: Soaking our feet in the river in the glorious sunshine.....

Day Three - Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Rte. 9 -> Kid Gore Shelter - 14.2 Miles

A Solo Trip...
Restarted at Rte. 9 Trailhead after a good filling breakfast at Friendly's. A cool, overcast, misty day. Perfect for hiking. Felt good to get underway. Gained elevation for most of the morning. Got into a good pace and got to Goddard Shelter around 1:30 PM. Covered the 10.1 miles in 4 1/2 hours of almost continuous hiking. Took break til 2:00 PM and decided to push on. Stopped at Glastenbery Fire Tower but had no views due to foggy conditions. Saw numerous signs of moose (scat and tracks) but they remain elusive. With the wet and mist it felt as if I were walking through Middle Earth. Hike was very quiet. No birds, bugs or animals. Only the wind in the trees and the raindrops falling from the leaves. Missed having Jen with me but enjoyed the solo experience. Probably the quietest day I've ever had in my life. Made Kid Gore shelter around 4:00 PM. Shelter living tonight. May push to get over Stratton tomorrow.

How "Split Rock" really got split......

Stopping for a break at Goddard Shelter on the way to Kid Gore Shelter...

Walking through "Middle Earth'.....where's Frodo?

On the way to Stratton....notice the use of the Suvivorman picture taking method...

Day Four - Thursday, June 5, 2008
Kid Gore Shelter -> Stratton Pond - 15.4 Miles

The Old Man And Me...
Spending this evening overlooking Stratton Pond from here in my tent (to avoid the black flies). A beautiful place. Shelter very nice too but crowded (holds 20), so it's back to tent living for me. All alone over here on the tent platform by Willis Clearing. Hiked here from Kid Gore Shelter. A total of 15+ miles, including an up and over of Stratton Mtn. Summit and Fire tower were all socked in with clouds. I imagine (and have heard) the view is pretty awesome. Hiked most of the day with a 66 year old guy from East Granby called "Poz". A good fellow to hike and chat with. Turns out his daughter lives less than 2 miles from me. Small world.

Conditions for hiking today were same as yesterday, cloudy, cool and misty. Sun teased us as we climbed Stratton but never broke through. Tonight is officially my last night on the trail this year. Will go out to Rte. 11 (10+ miles) tomorrow and Jen will pick me up. Been a great first year although I hope Jen can make it next year. Trip was just long enough and just short enough too. Got the alarm set to get an early start in the AM. Hoping for a sunset over Stratton Pond before bed. It is so quiet and peaceful here. A much needed place to be.
Took a wonderful evening walk around the pond. Very tranquil. Played hide and seek with a couple beavers as I tried to take some close up pics of them. Hard not to think of my home and family. Wish they were here to see this place. The sun is setting and the frogs are chirping making this the most relaxing peaceful night of the trip.

Reaching Stratton Pond at last......

Home for the night....or for a few hours at least....

The view right outside my tent....it doesn't get any better....

Day Five - Friday, June 6, 2008
Stratton Pond -> VT Rte. 11 - 10.5 Miles

The Last Day...
A tough, tough day. Got to bed last night around 10:00 PM. Rain started around midnight. Slept on and off until about 1:00 AM when insomnia set in. Tossed and turned trying to lay comfortably and pass the time. Tent began to leak around 2:30 AM. Made decision that I'd rather be wet and hiking than wet and laying in my sleeping bag. Quickly packed everything and began hiking out at 3:00 AM. Heavy rain and wind as I started. Trail was actually really easy to follow in the dark. A wide swath cut out in front of me. All I had to do was glance up occasionally and check for a white blaze. Another quiet time spent hiking, this time in the dark. The forest was once again quiet as all I could hear was the rain hitting my head and the wind in the trees. Sky began getting light around 5:00 AM. Hit the half way point around 5:30. Began to feel tired in second half of hike. Rain finally let up around 7:00 AM. Hit the trailhead at Rte. 11 at 7:46 AM. Began walking/hitching into town (6 miles) and got a lift into Manchester. Was having breakfast served to me at Friendly's at 8:50. Headed across the street to wash my clothes and gear in laundromat.

Feel tired but warm food and clean clothes made it all good. Kicked around town for a few hours before heading back out to trailhead to wait for Poz and my ride home. A tough but good way to end the week.

Hiking out in the dark and rain.....

Final Thoughts
Overall the trip was all I had hoped for. I hope the future years will be just as fulfilling. In reality I got what could be described as a "mini-thru hike". Although the length of time was short, I got the experience alot of what a thru hike contains. I hiked through almost all conditions; heat, cool, sunny, overcast, rain and even some night hiking. I hiked fun miles, tough miles, long miles, short miles, boring miles & "have to get them in" miles. I hiked happy. I hiked sad. I hiked with friends. I hiked alone. I got to see places and things one doesn't get to see everyday. It was very similar to my ultra running experiences, but different enough for me to enjoy all new experiences as well. Although I only made a little over half of my originally scheduled miles (58.2 miles completed) due to unforseen logistical issues, I in no way feel the trip came up short. If anything, the plan as you go method made the trip more fun and exciting. A trip well worth taking...I can't wait for next year...

Gear Notes For Next Year
Spend money for a high quality biv sack and devise a lighter, quicker shelter.
3 Set of AA batteries lasted the whole week for pictures.
One canister a fuel for whole week. Consider options to go "cold" and leave stove home.
3 liters of water enough to carry (2 Nalgenes and 1 Handheld bottle).

Long Trail heading North from Rte. 11 Trailhead......to be continued....

Nipmuck Trail Marathon - Fool me once....Fool me twice

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 02:23:37 GMT

There's an old Chinese proverb that states "Fool me once Shame on you Fool me twice Shame on me." (Before Bush botched it). Well, shame on me I guess. Apparently I didn't get enough abuse last year in my first running of the Grand Tree Series oldest event, The Nipmuck Marathon. So, this past week, I headed out once again to the Blue-Blazed trails in Ashford attempting to push my luck and complete yet another 26.4 miles on the single track trails.

I prepared myself for this year's event, armed with the confidence of completing last year's event unscathed (despite my being a "High Fall Risk" rookie) and hoped for the same result this time around. Last year this race was one of the races I was building up towards. This year, I was using it as one of the races to build up with (towards Jay's Challenge). Despite my goal for this race being slightly different than last year I still hoped I could improve upon my time.

After the usual pre-race preparation (including the requisite trip to the woods) we received our instructions for Poopfest 2008 (pre-race meeting) and lined up on Perry Hill Rd to start the 25th Nipmuck Marathon. After a 15 minute delay in start time, we were off and funneling down onto the single track on our way out to the first turn-around. Alternating between a fast walk and slow running, we started out in typical trail race accordion style.

Settling into a conservative pace I kept in mind my starts in the previous three races in which I went out too fast. The first out & back was fairly uneventful save for my graceful crossing of the beaver dam (or falling across is more like it). Staying with JT through the whole first section we monitored each other's progress while planning and dreaming of future endeavors, provided we survived this one of course. To our surprise (and delight) a couple friendly faces greeted us as we reached the first turnaround. Mike (a fellow trail enthusiast and my brother-in-law) and his son Jack welcomed us upon arrival. Quickly using this first opportunity to take on fluids and nutrition we paused for a couple quick photos and were off once again. Somewhere in this section I lost JT and continued on conserving my energy for the longer (and tougher) second half of the course.

Having dreams of coming close to a 5:00 hour finish (I finished in 5:19 last year) coming into the event, I accepted the foolishness of this dream as I completed the first out & back and crossed the start/finish line at 2:29. Knowing how the second half was I reminded myself that a time goal was not my main priority and focused on staying in a strong conservative pace. I quickly refilled my water bottle and started uphill to start the second part of the course. Falling into a group of runners I monitored my overall progress both mentally and physically and planned my strategy for the rest of the race. Pushing aside thoughts of setting any time based goals I decided to take the race as it came to me. My only desire was to finish feeling strong. Aware that I didn't seem to be eating as much (I have a tendency to lose my appetite the hotter it gets) due to the higher temperatures and knowing this would affect my energy level later in the race, I planned on holding my conservative pace until the final turnaround, at a minimum.

Still feeling fresh as I hit Iron Mtn. Road for the mile long road running section of the race, I plodded on. It was at this point I noticed that I was entering my new pattern of catching runners ahead of me. Since late last year I have noticed a trend later in my races where the longer the race goes, the more I seem to reel in the runners ahead of me. Either I am maintaining my strength longer than the group of runners I am with or I am pacing more consistently. Perhaps both. This "stalking mode" also brings about a mental state where I become very determined and focused on the runner in front of me. It has become a noticeable portion of the race for me and is turning into a great mental boost for me during these times.

Entering this state as I hit the road section of the race, I began to pull away from the group of runners I was with and settled into a new group as we entered back onto the trail. After crossing the "rocky section" and reaching the top of the hills to begin the long downhill to the final turnaround (19 miles) I knew I was getting close. Down the "Big Steps" I stepped onto the Boston Hollow Road. Giving a quick glance over the Northern Nipmuck's turnaround spot, I filled my water bottle, grabbed a handful of potato chips and started on the final section of the race.

Back up that long downhill I made sure to hydrate and fuel up for the final push. Knowing that I was in the final section of the race I continued to hold back, not wanting to push to soon. A mile or so out of the final turnaround, staying strong and positive I shortly crossed paths with JT on his way out to the final turnaround. JT looked very fresh and strong and in much better shape than last year. It was good to see JT enjoying the race. We paused for a quick appraisal of each other's situation and went our separate ways.

Getting closer to the finish with each step I began picking up my pace in hopes of cracking the 5:30 mark, running hard on each downhill and hiking hard on the uphill’s. My plan was to run hard to the road section, powerwalk the road (uphill) to the final aid station and then go into survival mode for the final 2 miles. Falling into a pace with two others runners, we pushed and pulled each other along, each one of us pacing the other. Not wanting to be the one to "fade away", I gave all I had.

Finally we hit the road section and I slowed to power walk the mile long up hill (or so it seems). Hoping to recover enough for the final push. A quick stop at the final aid station for more fluids and chips before darting back into the woods (and almost stepping on a snake) to begin the final 2.4 miles. Up and down the rolling course continued. I knew from last year that the final mile of the race was marked by tenths. With this being both a blessing (knowing how much remained) and a curse (also knowing how much remained) I began to scan the bottoms of the trees for these markers. At last I saw the first of them as my watch hit the 5:23 mark. I accepted the unlikelihood of a 5:30 finish and soldiered on, trying to keep pace with the two runners in front me. Like an old rollercoaster, slowly clanking it's way up the hills and then hurtling itself down, we kept on.

In the not to far distance we could here the familiar "Runner Up" call signifying the finish. I backed off to give the runners in front of me some space and room to cross the finish line. At last the final hill was crested and I began the final descent. Flying down that last hill, I glanced up to see my children, parents and sister waiting for me. Buoyed by their appearance I dashed across the finish line grinning from ear to ear.

I made my way over to the table for some much needed pizza and drinks. I had my kids pick out another piece of wood (race trophy) for the mantle piece and made my way back to the finish to cheer on the runners coming in and await JT's finish. Before long JT came across looking and feeling strong and we began the post race celebration that marked our completion of our 2nd Nipmuck Marathon in 2 tries.

Overall, I feel I ran another strong trail race. With renewed focus on pacing and conserving my energy for later in the race I felt stronger for much longer throughout the race as opposed to last year. And despite my finishing time being behind last years by 14 minutes, I felt as if this was the better race. Perhaps the difference in goals coming into the event this year changed my perception of what would be a successful event for me. In any case, I got to spend yet another 5 & 1/2 (5:33:58 precisely, 124th overall) in the woods doing what I love. Challenging myself to the limit through unknown conditions. Reaching past unknown limits both mentally and physically. Finding what I am truly made off. What more could I ask for?

Overall results are here: http://www.runwmac.com/gt2008/nipmuck2008.html

Scott Livingston once again took many pics of the race, which can be found here: http://www.printroom.com/pro/scottlivingston/default.asp
You'll finda couple of me on page 18 (#626, 627, 628). JT is on page 19 (#667). Thanks Scott!

Next up....The 48th Mt. Washington Road Race! Hey....It's Only One Hill....right?

Crossing the Finish....

Re-Routes & Trail Conditions.....

Sat, 24 May 2008 02:19:27 GMT

With spring easing it's way into summer and the bulk of my scheduled activities soon to be underway, I figured it was time to touch base and update you all on what's been happening and what's to come. What's changed, what hasn't and what may.

Firstly, what has happened. This past weekend I ran my second annual Soapstone Mountain Half-Marathon. They call it a half-marathon but in reality it is a bit more at 14.5 miles and if that isn't enough, some of us decided to make it even longer (more on that later). In any case, it was yet another great event put on by another great running club, The Shenipsit Striders.

For those that do not know, The Shenipsit Striders, are a local trail running club that bases itself out of the Shenipsit/Soapstone area. Each week they have group runs in and around the area. Since I started running trails I wanted to be a part of this group. For the past two years I've run both of their events (Half-Marathon & Soapstone Assault). I even went as far as to attend some of their group runs last summer. Unfortunatley, due to employment and family commitments I haven't been able to attend anymore group runs. But, I did finally take the plung about a month ago and became a member of the club. Even though I can't make the weekly runs, I still wanted to support the group and help out in anyway I can. For more info, check out the site here: http://www.shenipsitstriders.org/

Now, on to the race.

It was a picture perfect day for running a trail race, sunny but cool. Trail conditions were also close to perfect. There trails were drier than last year as evidenced by there being no river to run down but still enough mud to satisfy any trail runner. I've run alot of miles on the trails in the Soapstone area both in races and training and I don't think I've seen better conditions prior, allowing agressive running and passing but also let one settle into a pace and not be in the way of others. Since it is a loop course, there was also no returning runners to worry about. And with150 or so runners on the course, that was a good thing.

The race starts with a section on a dirt road until crossing Gulf Rd and up the steepest climb of the race following the powerlines up Sopastone Mountain. It's a short but tough climb and I was grateful that I was climbing it early in the race as opposed to late (like the Soapstone Assault). As soon as you reach the top it is by the fire tower and down the steepest descent of the race via the Shenipsit Trail. Brimming with confidence from running Seven Sisters, I aggressively descended. Probably the most aggressive I've ever taken that section.

After that intial start I fell into position and was able to glom onto a group of runners to stay near, where I stayed for most of the race. Unfortunatley, when one does this one can take for granted that the runner(s) in front of you know where they are going. During the pre-race instructions we were told that the key intersections of the race were marked with pink surveyor tape. So, when the group of runners I was with saw a bunch of pink surveyors tape marking what appeared to be a key intersection, we followed it. It wasn't until we were well into the "re-route" that was taking us through a bushwacking, no trail section that I began to wonder if we took a wrong turn. I combed my mind but could not remember running this section last year. Fortunatley, we all came back out onto the trail and rejoined the race. Seeing runners that were well behind us before the "re-route" now side by side with us was a bit disheartening but such is life on the trail.

On we would go. Onto parts of the blue-blazed Shenipsit Trail, dodging a growing number of Mtn. Bikers. Off the Shenipsit Trail and onto the white-blazed Strider trails I once again ran very aggressive on the longest downhill of the race. Last year, this part was virtually a river, this year with it being a bit drier I was able to secure better footing and made up a good amount of positions I'd lost from the re-route. As was the case with Seven Sisters, I found myself getting stronger the longer the event went. Runners that had passed me miles back I was now reeling in. Giving me a much needed mental edge.

Before long it was up and across Soapstone Rd and down the Quarry Trail for yet another aggressive descent. Hitting the aspahlt and down to the park's parking lot I found the best surprise of the race waiting for me. To my complete and utter surprise Diane, Ashley & Tommy appeared out of the blue to cheer me on. With thier appearance giving me an unexpected boost I headed towards the finish, crossing the line just as they arrived to see me come in.

Overall, I feel I ran a strong race, though not as strong as last year. Finishing with a time of 2:41:07. Good for 81st place and another placing in the Grand Tree Series. This was a good 15 minutes behind last year, but I attribute most of that to the "re-route". Overall results are here: http://www.runwmac.com/gt2008/soapstone2008.html

Photos of the race by Scott Livingston available at: http://www.printroom.com/pro/scottlivingston/default.asp (one of me on Page 10)

Despite all the fun and good things to come out of the race, I did notice an alarming trend. So far, I've run three races this year, Northern Nipmuck, Seven Sisters and now Soapstone. As I look back over all three, I've noticed that in each one it has taken me much longer to get into my pace. At Soapstone it was a good hour until I fully got into my pace, both legs & lungs. At first I was a bit perplexed about this, but after fully analyzing it, I've come to the conclusion that I am just going out to fast. For some reason, I am just having a tougher time dialing it back in the early going. Although it hasn't drastically affected my overall race results, I am sure it has in someway. So, it is with a renewed focus on pacing that I head into the summer portion of my schedule. And with the race distances only getting longer, I had best focus on it.

Speaking of the summer schedule, it is offically kicks off for me on June 1 with the Nipmuck Trail Marathon. I ran this event last year for the first time and am enthusiastic about returning to "The Big Girlie Man Race" to give it another go, this time sans the "High Fall Risk" rookie sticker. On top of that it is the first race JT and I will be running together since last year's event. For those that don't know, this is JT's big return to long distance trail races since he sustaineda stress fracture last year (probably in this same event). So, it will be great to welcome JT back and add another peice of wood to the trophy case.

Immediately after Nipmuck (the day after) I was slated to begin the "Rest-Of-My-Life Section Hike" of the Appalachian Trail. All year I had planned to begin a North-South Section Hike, starting at the Northern Terminus, Mt. Katahdin. Well, as is usually the case, the one thing you can't plan for has thrown a wrench into my plans. Yes, the weather, in this case, last winter's weather by piling up record amounts of snow in Northern Maine (80" remained as of Mid-April). Long story short, the summit of Katahdin, the Northern Terminus of the AT, will be closed on June 2nd, the day I was slated to begin my hike. Even though trail conditions here are good, they still have a ways to go up North. So, my options were either to: a.) postpone the hike until next year. b.) start a South-North hike in Georgia. c.) hike a different section of the AT. d.) hike a different long distance trail.

Considering the options I knew that I did not want to postpone the trip. I wanted to do some long distance hiking. Starting in Georgia wasn't logistically possible either. And I know it maybe me being a bit OCD, but I want this "Rest-Of-My-Life Section Hike" to follow the trail sections in succession, rather than jump around from section to section. So, in my mind I was left with option D.

One trail that has always appealed to me has been the Long Trail. The Nation's oldest long distance trail (and the inspiration for the AT). At first I was disappointed. Disappointed that I had to postpone my AT trip but also that I was section hiking the LT. With this trail running 275 miles from the MA/VT border to Canada I always thought this was the one long distance trail I could thru-hike and still fit it into my current lifestyle. But the more I thought about it, the more excited I got. After all how could a week out hiking be bad. To further my excitement I stumbled across this great trail report (http://www.jamiecompos.com/longtrail.html ) that I spent a whole night reading. If you have time, check it out as you can read about some ofthe places Jen & I will be hiking through. It may put off me begining the AT for a couple years, but with the LT being the inspiration for the AT, I think it is kind of fitting that we tackle this one first.

I close out a busy June heading back to the White Mountains for my 2nd annual attempt at The Mt. Washington Road Race. One of only two road races I am running this year (Manchester being the other), I am looking forward to returning to NH and can only hope we get weather as good as last year. JT will also be joining me for his first attempt at this event so that will make it even more fun.

From there, the distances only get longer. One of my premier events for this year looms later this summer as I am slated to attempt The Jay Challenge in July. Preparing me I hope for a busy fall when I'll attempt one 50k (Pisgah) and two 50 milers (Vermont & Stone Cat) within two months. But as they say, that is along way and alot of miles away from now.....it will be less though without anymore "re-routes"....

Security is mostly a superstition.....
Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all.

Not your ordinary trail race....

Sat, 10 May 2008 02:38:58 GMT

This is NOT your ordinary trail race.... That would be one of the first thoughts that popped into my head as I began the annual running of The Seven Sisters Trail Race. Described as a "Very Hilly & Rocky 12 Mile Run", the Seven Sisters Trail Race was to be second race of the season and my first "new race" of 2008.

When I initially sat down in the off-season and planned my 2008 race season I started with the goals of: A) Increasing my number of events (both within and outside of the Grand Tree Series), B) Adding 1-2 long distance events & C) Adding a minimum of 3 new events. The Seven Sisters was one of the first races I added to my schedule and despite it's "short" distance, one of the races I most looked forward to. A simple reading of the race application would bring a smile to my face with it's deceptive description:

"An out-and-back roller coaster ride along the ridgeline of the Mt. Holyoke Range on a single-track trail. Very scenic overlooks of the Pioneer Valley with views of the University of Massachusetts, Amherst College, Hampshire College and the Town of Amherst, as well as a beautiful view of the Connecticut River and Northampton to the west. Extremely hilly with 3,700 feet of climb consisting of many steep hills with hazardous footing in places due to the many sharp basalt rocks the comprise the elevated ridge of Mt. Holyoke."

My enthusiasm for this event would only be further buoyed by the many curses I heard hurled it's way during the running of The Northern Nipmuck Trail Race last month. As my first attempt of this event got underway, I was to see first hand why it has been on the receiving end of many of those curses. I'd even get a chance to add a few of my own before the day was done.

A damp and overcast day, along with some AM showers was forecast for race day. And with a steep and rocky course ahead of me, and Todd's injuries still fresh in my mind, I reminded myself that safety should take priority over speed (not that I have alot of that anyway). With the showers ending just before the race start, my clothing options would very similar to last month's Northern Nipmuck as I would go with shorts and a short sleeved shirt. Due to it being slightly cool, I armed myself (no pun intended) with my new Moeben Sleeves as I liked having the option of being warmer at the race start and being able to adjust by removing the sleeves later in the race. For hydration I brought along my Hawg Camelbak. However for the first time, I was without my Nathan handheld bottle (which was left sitting full on my kitchen counter). Nutrition needs were to be staified with my now regular rations of potatoes and Cliff Shot Gel Bloks.

The pre-race check in was at the Mt. Holyoke State Park Visitor Center which was abuzz with runners coming and going as I arrived to pick up my race bib. After a quick stop at the t-shirt table (I picked up the stick running guy version) and a lucky break at the porta potty (no line) I sat anxiously awaiting the race start. About 5 minutes before the race start, I joined the mass of runners crossing the street to the race start. BTW, a tip of the hat and kudos to the park ranger who handled both the runner and road traffic as we all lined up for the start. What could easily have been uncontrolled chaos was made somewhat controllable instead. Lining up in my usual mid-pack spot, I mentally prepared myself for the task ahead. Before long I faintly made out the RD's starting commands and was off.

For those that don't know, the race begins with a long, rocky uphill that even included some scrambling type climbing. It's an uphill that for someone of my level (not elite), would be very difficult to run up. Not that running was really an option at this point anyway. With 241 runners on the course, this climb would turn out to be nothing more than a long slow slog. Up, up & Up we climbed. It was an impressive climb and would be a good indication of what was to come.

With this being a new event for me, I was basically running blind. Up to my arrival at the race start, I had not seen a course map or read any race reports. The only knowledge I had of the race was that it was run on a portion of the Metacomet-Manadnock Trail. I'd run many a long run on the Metacomet Trail in CT and it has yet to disappoint, in terms of both beauty and difficulty. If this portion of the trail was anything like it's Southern parts in CT, I knew I'd be in for a challenging day. A quick glance at the trail map obtained from the visitor center at the race start would confirm this.

Finally, after about 15-20 minutes into the race I got my first taste of running on this course. And after the initial climbing and crowds it felt nice to finally stretch the legs a bit. Luckily it didn't take long to find a less crowded spot in the field and settle into a good pace. I found the early going still a bit herky jerky as I found the field getting bunched up on both the uphills and downhills. You'd think with the amount of elevation this course most of the bottleneck would be on the uphills but I actually found the opposite to be the truth. With the muddy, slick conditions combined with the rocky course, everyone was being a bit cautious at first, including me. For although I was once again wearing my trusty North Face XCR 103's (a shoe I have been very happy with), I was conscious that they did not have the best traction in these conditions.

Further along we ran, up & down. Finally after the fourth or fifth climb (I lost count eventually), there was enough of a gap in the field to allow me to be more aggressive on the downhills. Treading that fine line between being in or out of control, I let gravity do it's work as I adjusted to the trail conditions more and more on each successive downhill. While doing thisI also made mental notes of each uphill/downhill in reverse. Visualizing how each climb/descent would be on the return trip.

As is now my usual custom, I began a game of leapfrog with the group of runners around me as we all settled into a comfortable pace. Using this as both distraction and motivation I continued on, finally getting fully warmed up and in mid-race mode. Before long we past aid-station two (I totally missed aid station one) and crossed the paved road to begin our climb to the Summit House. I began to wonder how much more there really was to climb. It certainly felt like we gained alot of elevation and I knew we had along descent to the turnaround point.

Once again, it was up to the ridge line, which on any other day would have offered some excellent views I am sure. However, with today's overcast conditions, it was more like running in a fog bank. These conditions, along with the constant elevation changes (and my lack of knowledge of the course) combined to make me unsure of the distance we had traveled. This would have both a positive and negative mental impact through out the race. For now, it was positive, as I crested the ridge and the terrain smoothed out on the approach to the summit house. Sitting on the summit of Mt. Holyoke (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Holyoke), elevation 935 feet, it is a picturesque setting that would make a nice site to bring the family on a good weather day. Up the wooden steps and across the porch we ran, enjoying the cheers of the hardy souls that came out to cheer us on. Descending the steps back onto the trail we began the long decline to the turnaround point.

Down & down the trail went over numerous slick bare rock sections. More than any other point in the race, I took care to step smartly and err on the side of caution. Now that I was almost halfway through the race, it would be along way back if I obtained an injury at this point. It was also during this section I began to see the returning runners (and a few fellow Shenipsit striders) making their way back up towards the summit house. This added yet another element as one now had to be aware of others coming up as you try and descend somewhat controllably. The lengthy descent continued (the longest of the race) until at last I reached the final switchback. A final dash downhill and I reached aid station three and the turnaround point of the race (1:30:++).

Pausing only for a couple quick cups of Gatorade and to thank the aid station volunteers, I turned to begin yet another slow slog uphill. For this climb I decided to take my time (it wasn't really a choice anyway) and enjoy the climb. I also decided now was a good time to take on some nourishment and break out my trusty potatoes and Cliff Shot Bloks. Knowing this was likely the only time I'd refuel for this race, I made sure to have my fill. Early in the climb I came across an injured runner awaiting assistance from below. I stopped to ask if he needed help and offered up two pain relievers as he waited, which he gladly accepted. As I did so, the group of runners I had been with most of the race passed me on their way uphill. Using this as motivation I started up again, in pursuit.

Sooner than expected, I had surprisingly reached the summit house. Once again, up the wooden steps and across the porch I passed my group of runners and continued across the summit to begin another descent. Still unsure of exactly how many miles I had left, I reminded myself to stay in mid-race mode and not use up all my energy. I continued to keep focused on my footing, knowing that fatigue could make me lessen up. I settled in once again joining up with a fellow runner, Ivan. We moved along, pushing and pulling each other along the ups and down. Ivan would pull ahead, I'd reel him in. Crossing the paved road to aid station two we soldiered on.

Now having lost any idea of how many climbs/descents were ahead I would focus only on the piece of trail in front of me. Staying mentally strong, I took stockof my physical status. Endurance wise I felt strong. I knew I had plenty in the tank and might even have some to spare at the end. I had zero issues with my feet and no chafing or clothing issues. The only thing I noted was that I actually felt a bit cool and was glad I started the race with the Moeben sleeves (and still had them on).

Yet another section of the race came to close as Ivan and I made our way into aid station one. Ivan paused for some water and let me take over the lead in our little race. Knowing this was the final section I now began to push a bit harder and use up that little bit of extra energy. Before long I began to reel in more runners. More often than not I was catching them on the uphills. It seems the hillwork and stairclimber were now paying off. Sensing I was a bit stronger than those in front of me I continued to push. I gave a quick glance to my watch and realized I had a chance to finish in under 3 hours. Up & down over the now rolling course I went, becoming more and more aggressive on the downhills and hiking hard on the uphills. Spurned on by one of the final runners I passed ("you got 5 minutes, you can make it!") I reached the beginning of the final downhill.

Descending as fast as I could I was half running and half jumping down the extremely rocky trail that was originally our race start. With the trail clear of runners I ran with reckless abandon stepping and hopping as fast as I could. Dropping elevation quicker than any other time in the race I hurtled myself downhill. At last, the rocks were gone as I finally hit dirt, took a hard right turn and burst through to the finish. Greeted with congratulations from the numerous runners huddled at the finish I quickly stepped aside to keep the finish clear. I immediately spotted two members of the world greatest support crew (my parents) amongst the crowd and gave them a quick run down of the event.

I think this race could be described as the Northern Nipmuck on steroids but that doesn't really do it justice either. In truth, the Seven Sisters is in itself unique and that's what I loved about it. Tremendous elevation change on a challenging single track, long enough to have the characteristics of a long distance event but short enough to let you push, it has a real good balance. This I will say, if you aren't 100% confident in your ability to be aggressive on the downhills or if you are footing challenged, take your time or wait until you are ready. This course has the potential and the proven track record of causing injuries. It isn’t a course to be taken lightly. Respect the distance and the trail. But overall, a great course and great event. Pencil this one in as one that every trail runner should run. I know I will...again.

Oh, and if you want to know, I did NOT make the 3 hours I was trying for. Oh, well, there's always next year....who's gonna join me?

Final standings are now posted, here are the numbers:
Place Name M/F Age Town St Time GT %
127 Ron Starrett M 38 Vernon CT 3:01:55 58.95%

Next up....The Soapstone Mountain Trail Run (14.5 Miles) - Sunday - May 18, 2008

One Down.....Many More To Go.....

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 02:31:11 GMT

One Down.....many more to go. It's always nice to get that first race of the season under your belt. Especially when it also your first long trail race of the year. For the past two years now, that first long trail race of the year for me has been the Northern Nipmuck Trail Race. A 16 mile, challenging out & back course over "rolling" terrain on, obviously, a northern section of the blue blazed Nipmuck Trail.

This year, I return for my second attempt on the "rolling" course (footnote: it is my contention that "rolling" isn't really a course description but a description of the runners "rolling" down the hilly course). With last year's race being my first long distance trail event, I was curious to see how this year's event would compare to last year's. After a full season of long distance trail running behind me I thought I had a good shot at improving on my time from last year, even though this was not a goal coming into the event.

The first thing I noticed different was my thought process on the distance. Last year, a 16 mile trail run was considered a long run. A run that had me prepare with both tapering and recovery time included in my race planning. There was also a bit of trepidation of not knowing what to expect. I guess you know you've turned the corner into the Ultra world when you start to consider a 16 miler a "short" run.

This year, since I had already run the course two times (once in the race, once during a training run), I clearly knew what to expect. I even caught myself a couple times saying that this was a "short" race. And in terms of the race distances I ran last year and that I am building up to this year, it is a short race. But, it was also the longest trail run I had scheduled since running the Stone Cat 50 miler last November. After spending all winter focusing on maintaining a base (while recovering), I had to remind myself not to try and pick up where I left off. After all, long distance trail running is a building process. Despite my experience of last year, there are no guarantees. Each race is its own entity. No matter how many times you run a course, each time is different. I still had to respect both the trail and the distance. To not do so would be both foolish and shortsighted.

Still, as race day approached I felt a calmness in my approach to race preparation. There was no "unknown" anymore. I knew the course, I knew how far I could run, and I knew how all my gear would perform. The only unknown, as usual, was the weather. And even that brought no worries as I knew I could (and would) run in any weather. You'd think with the way I am describing this that my enthusiasm would also be lower this year. In reality, nothing could be further from that thought. Like I mentioned above, each race is its own entity. Bringing with it new experiences.

Trail running to me reaches an almost spiritual plane. At no other time do I feel more alive and in tune with the world around me. I find the true essence of who and what I am. Through all the miles, the mud, the rocks, the hills, the bugs, the scratches and scraps, the heat, the cold, the rain. All of it, just strips away everything until all that remains is who I am really am. I experience almost every human emotion in these runs. From joy to misery, and strength to weakness. It's all brought to the surface.

This was also something that was known to me, but also something I welcomed with open arms. On top of that, I also had another friend joining me, as Todd (he of Mt. Cabot & Ice Climbing Fame) was attempting his first ever trail race (and first race since High School). This would bring the new experience of being the elder statesman, so to speak. For although we weren't going to be running the whole race together, as the race veteran, I still felt a bit of responsibility to him and wanted to make sure he had a good race (more on this later).

Another new experience for me was by the way of omission. As this was my first long distance race in which I was flying solo. For the first time in a race I would have no support crew with me in any capacity. Although I had run many training runs (up to and over 25 miles) solo, this was the first long distance race in which I would be completely self sufficient. No one to greet me at the aid stations (except for the awesome race volunteers). No one to handle the ride to the race or home. No one to hand me a snack or fill my water bottle. In all honesty, it felt kind off good to go it all alone. Although I have the best support crew in the world, I sometimes like to go solo (and I'm sure they can use a break from chasing me through the woods).

So, with a whole new set of circumstances in place for me, I was prepared to begin my 2008 race season. Race morning was a bit damp as it had rained the day before but it was also warmer than last year. I was prepared for showers throughout the day but also conscious of not over dressing in case it warmed up more. My clothing options were very similar to last year, with shorts, a long sleeve shirt and my fleece vest. My feet donned both Injini toe socks and my trusty North Face XCR 103's. I planned on running with both my camelbak and a hand held bottle (same ones I used at Stone Cat) filled with water only. I also packed some potatoes, Cliff Shot Bloks & a Snickers Almond Bar as my food. With a 10:00 AM start time I had plenty of time in the morning to gather my gear making the planning even easier.

As much I enjoy these events the one thing I am not a big fan of is the pre-race milling about. Perhaps it is just my bottled up emotions but for some reason I find this the hardest part of any race day. If it was possible, I'd show up 5 minutes before start time. Maybe someday I'll time it just right and run right from the car through the start line as the gun goes off. But, until I pull that off, I'll have to live with getting to the race early and try to enjoy the atmosphere. Which, too be honest is not too hard. Seeing many like minded and enthusiastic people puts a certain electricity in the air. It's a buzz that you can actually feel. A palpable energy.

I could feel that energy as I pulled into Bigelow Hollow State Park. Being the race veteran now, I proceeded to park in the "Fisherman's Lot", which is closer to the start/finish line than the check in point. I made my way down to the registration tent to pick up my number and complimentary T-shirt (which is the same as last year's). Keeping an eye open for Todd I mingled about the tent area anxiously passing time. One great thing about having to wait around is hearing all the pre-race chatter. All the ideas and hopes of how the race will unfold. The overall optimism is contagious.

Finally, I spotted Todd making his way down the road. A quick introduction to his Fiancée Sara and parents and we we're off to make final race preparations. I quickly filled Todd in on what he could expect to see and what he might possibly encounter. A final gear check complete, we proceeded to the start line. As opposed to last year, the RD moved the start line a bit in the other direction, possibly due to the number of entrants. Todd and I humbly found our place in mid-pack, stated last second race strategies, wished each other luck and then we were off.

In accordion style, the field of 130+ made our way through the first mile of the race. This first mile also happens to be the longest uphill of the race, reaching the highest point of the Nipmuck Trail. Somehow during this first mile I lost Todd (see Todd's race report below mine). We both had planned on running our own races but I figured we'd be close for at least the first couple miles due to race traffic. I certainly wasn't alone however, as I had the luck of picking up a "race chatter". That is someone who loves to chat while running. It doesn't matter who or what they chat about, they just like to talk. And as luck would have it (or bad luck if you know me), I was the one he was talking to. Finally after about a 1/2 mile of "chatting", I'd had enough and decided to pick up the pace and get to a nice quiet spot in the field where I could get into a rhythm. Up & Down over the "rolling course" I moved. Before I realized it I was moving at a much faster pace than I had planned. In addition, I had maintained that pace longer than I had wanted to. As I was completing the first section of the race and pulling into the first aid station, I came to the realization that I may have committed a cardinal sin (or is mortal, venial....I don't know) of running...going out to fast. Luckily I felt as if I had enough time left in the race to make up for it. However, from here on out, there would be no more reserves to reach back in to. I had to get back to my normal pace and maintain it for the duration of the event. No reaching down and trying to trim time off at the end.

I quickly made my way through aid station 1, consuming my first potatoes of the day and proceeded up the steep uphill to begin section two of the race. As I attempted to get into pace, I made note of the other runners around me. One thing I noticed in most of my races last year was how I would always end up being in or around the same runners during a race. Usually the faces I saw around me in the first few miles, I'd see through out the race and even finish in the same relative time. Towards the end of last year I would use this to gauge myself and keep myself on pace. I set about using that same strategy. Luckily, none of the faces around me were "chatters".

Finally settling into my pace I began to soak in everything around me. With the sky partially clearing and the temperature rising, the day was turning out to be an extremely pleasant running day. Being careful to not get too distracted, I kept reminding myself to stay focused and watch my footing. The early morning showers had left the course much more slick than the previous times I had run the course. This was especially apparent during the rocky sections. With the final section run mostly on a ridge line and including a fairly steep rocky descent to the turn around aid station, I made sure to step lightly and smartly.

I allowed myself a glance of my watch as I reached the turn around aid station and was quite pleased to see a time of 1:30+. However, due to my expending my extra energy in the early going, I knew my dreams of a 3 hour finish would most likely stay just a dream. Not one to linger to long at an aid station, I turned to begin my return trip back over the "rolling" course. After ascending the steep incline that marks the turn around, I paused for my second batch of potatoes and a nice long drink from my camelbak. Once again, I got into my rhythm. Keeping my mind in mid-race mode, I only looked to put in some miles with a nice steady pace until the final aid station. If I had anything left to give at that point, I would give it. But until then I had to stay disciplined and remain on pace. Luckily, I did have one distraction. I figured that sometime in this next section I would pass Todd. I didn't think he would be more than 30 minutes behind me, so I expected to see him fairly soon. Each time I would encounter a group of runners heading out to the turn around I'd give a quick glance to see if Todd was amongst them. After 30 minutes I thought maybe I'd missed him during an uphill or downhill, lost in a moment of focus. After all, I did pass a runner in a group with glasses and a red top. Wasn't Todd wearing a red top....I tired to recall and told myself that it was most likely him. How rude he must have thought I was, not even uttering an acknowledging grunt.

I knew before long I would reach the final aid station. Darting down yet another hill, I glanced up to see a familiar face standing on the road that marks the final aid station. Donning only one shoe (the other foot obviously barefoot), I now knew why I hadn't yet passed Todd. As I pulled up to ask what happened I notice the sizable lump on his right ankle and needed no further explanation. I instantly felt horrible. The last thing I wanted (or thought would happen) is for him to get injured. After all the touting I had done about trail racing and dragging him all the way down here from Vermont, he gets injured. I felt partially responsible. Todd gave me the quick run down as I apologized to Sara for him getting hurt. Todd urged me to press on and that he would see me at the finish. So, with another quick apology, I was off. Stopping for a quick bottle refill I found one of my runner pack and set out to finish the race.

Knowing this was the final section brought both a stronger sense of determination and relief. I knew I had little extra in the tank and still a couple tough uphill’s, so I focused on technique and tried to be as efficient as possible. Playing leapfrog with a couple runners over the last few miles I bitterly watched the 3:00 hour mark go by. With about 2 miles to go I began to wish I had ate just a little more throughout the race. I could feel myself getting slower. I reached for what little reserves I had and reached the 1 to go mark. Knowing the final mile was all downhill I let gravity do it's work and hurtled myself downhill. Stretching my stride the most I had all day, I hammered down. Over the old forest road, twisting down through the single track I hit the stand of small pine trees and knew I was there. Over that last rocky steps I took a hard right and ran as hard as I could over the finish line. The first long distance trail race of 2008 was done.

Overall, I came across in 65th place, 3:13:16 overall time, a 12:05 per mile pace. An improvement of 16 places and 24:15 minutes (a minute and a half per mile!) over last year. I knew I had given it all I had but I also knew with some slight strategy adjustments that 3:00 was doable. Maybe next year.....

On a side note, not only was this my first long distance trail race of the year but it was also the first race of the WMAC 2008 Grand Tree Race Series. Next up for me...Race #4 of the Grand Tree Series (and my first time running this event), The Seven Sisters on May 4 th (a race I heard cursed more than once during the Nipmuck event). Hope to see you out there.....

Get well Todd! Jay is still calling......read Todd's Race Report Below

Todd's journey to the temple of learning....

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 02:31:00 GMT

It hasn't taken me quite as long to provide reactions to my first (attempt at a) trail race. Documentation of the carnage is attached for your viewing pleasure. These were taken Mon. evening (two days +). I saw my GP Mon. morning, got xrays later in the morning, spoke with my GP in the afternoon and have an appointment Wed. with a rehab. therapist who specializes in working with athletes. Fortunately, there is no fracture, although there is a chip on the inside of my ankle from an old injury I remember nothing about. As the sordid story unravels, you should probably know that this was my good ankle during all of last year's mountainous festivities.

On last Thursday, Friday and Saturday morning, I was a bundle of coiled anxiety. It's been years since I've been so nervous. It was like asking out that crush in junior high school. I wasn't really nervous about what I would encounter (it was exactly what you described/very beautiful terrain/at least 5/8 of it). I was nervous about succeeding. I hadn't slept well, was coming off of being sick and knew I wasn't as ready as I wanted to be. But I was still excited to learn, learn, learn, use the race as a stepping stone and qualify for the marathon. It never even occurred to me that I wouldn’t finish. Injury wasn’t on my radar.

I was anxious to join a group. A group that you guys invited me to join. A group who could say they did it. A group (I have learned) that no one outside of the group really understands. I learned on Sat. that this group is represented by very cool people that I got to meet in unique ways.

Even though my courtship was brief, I went to the temple of learning on Saturday. I made three mistakes. All of them correctable. The first – I arrived on-site too late. I never was able to organize myself. I'll know better next time. My second was to overdress up top. I was very glad for the tights, but I chose to be warm on top. Didn't need to be that warm, though. But this was correctable as I had come prepared withdifferent shirts and expected to see Sara at the 4 mile for a quick change. My third mistake was an equipment problem. I lost touch with Ronnie when my water bottle dropped out of my waist belt. It fell out twice more. Never again. The hand bottle would be fine – maybe with a belt for food, but I lean more and more to the Ronnie/Camelback approach. Easy sipping throughout and room to carry whatever I would need (this would have become a critical problem had I been able to continue).

You guys had prepared me for the start. I loved the informality. Ronnie, the accordian was a perfect description. My impression (confirmed later by you) was that the accordian went out fast. At about mile one, my water bottle fell out. It was on the waist belt behind me and I didn’t know. This cool dude picked it up and ran it up to me. When I stopped to stash it, etc., that's when I lost touch with Ronnie. For the next mile, I could feel a surge behind me. It pushed me for awhile, but I knew it wasn't my pace forever. So slowly, the pack reshuffled and I slipped backwards. At first, I was pissed at myself. But I recalled the biggest lesson you guys taught me - find your pace. So I did. I settled in with one guy just ahead who seemed to match me well. He was a little stronger going up, but I was much faster going down. It always evened out. At about two and a half miles, on a very slight down grade, I was cruising along and suddenly blew out the ankle. No rock, no root, just a depression filled with leaves. I was route finding and watched it happen. Complete right angle. I didn't go down, but stumbled. The pain was excruciating. I continued “running”, thinking that it would work itself out as it always did last year when I was hiking. But it never really recovered. I kept going as fast as I felt comfortable. People started whizzing by. Most with a “are you ok?”. The next mile and a half is somewhat foggy in my mind. I blew it out at least twice more, fell both times, but kept going. More people checking up on me and giving me encouragement. I do recall that my ankle started pushing hard against my shoe. I stopped to look and my heart sank. Big balloon old lady ankle. I do recall crossing a deeper stream and how great the cold water felt, then the trail came out onto the side of a large brook to the right. I remember how beautiful it was. I also remember thinking if my ankle goes now, I’ll be in the middle of a rather fast moving stream. This was just before coming over the guard rail to the road and the four mile water stop.

My first reaction as I jumped the fence was where the fuck are Sara and my Dad? I was on my own. This is when Ronnie’s advice became sage. No shirt change, no Gu and at that point, no frendly voice to discuss my situation. I got to the water station and talked to the guy there. He offered no advice, but pointed to the brook behind him. I dunked my foot and it felt wonderful. I came out and lingered at the table, fueling up. Then I decided to continue. Wise? Foolish? Whatever. I came to finish, so kept trying. The first part after the 4 mile is a big up I am assuming most everybody had to walk. I could still sort of do that, so I climbed. At the top, I started catching up to a woman. I started to run again and then went down with a loud scream. I was done. The woman actually came back to check on me. How cool was that? Then three guys came by and stopped. One guy suggested I walk back down to the 4 mile and even offered to go with me to make sure I made it. How cool was that? I assured him I would be ok and wished them good luck. Then I worked my way back down the hill. As each person passed me, they wished me luck.

Still no Sara or Dad at the checkpoint. I took off my shoe and sock, lingered in the brook and began to ponder my options. I walked back to the guard rail and sat there for a long while. The sun disappeared, it got breezy and I got cold. Soon enough, the lead runner came cruising by (1 hour, 31 minutes at 12 miles by my watch). I told him he was awesome. He didn’t even acknowledge me. Then a woman spectator came over and we talked for awhile. Her husband, brother and father were running (her brother came through in about tenth place). Turns out she ran Jay last year.

A few minutes later, I saw a little white dog walking Sara from the other direction. Turns out at the starting line that the guy running the 4/12 station yelled, “anyone who wants to follow me, let’s go now” (his vehicle was at the end of the park road near the street, everyone else was parked down the road). The guy disappeared. There were no maps, so no one knew where to go. Sara asked around and found out that the 8 mile was on Boston Hollow Road, drove down to Ashford and started asking around until she got directions to Boston Hollow. She was waitng for me there. Dad and Anne stayed at the park.

Eventually, Sara went looking for me (the 4 mile and 8 mile are only 1 ½ miles apart by car). We stayed at the 4 mile and cheered evryone coming back through. They were great. Our encouragement was rewarded with peace signs, war whoops, smiles and quick nods. We waited to cheer for Ronnie because I knew he would be wondering why he hadn’t passed my raggedy ass. After checking in with a very strong looking Ronnie, we headed back to the park via the 8 mile checkpoint. As we pulled up to the checkpoint, there were two ambulances in the middle of the road and about ten guys (including runners) handing a woman down the big hill on a stretcher. I was in no shape to get out, but still wonder if it was the woman that came back to check on me. The timing would have been about right. I heard that she blew out her ankle. The guys helping were probably the same ones who offered to help me. We got back to the finish, and watched Ronnie finish very fast (great race, dude!).

As for the rest of the story. It’s still too raw to sort out.

I failed. I tried.

I ran just enough to understand the unique physical demands, but not long enough to experience them.

No cherry poppin’ tunes for me this time.

Here’s what I know. I would like to be part of that group someday, if they will have me. The group contains very special, cool people.

Peace out.

Todd

When We Last Left Our Heroes.....

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 20:40:13 GMT

Thanks to JT for the new thrilling comic adventures....hitting newstands soon! Get Yours Now!

Catching Up....Winter Round-Up

Sat, 22 Mar 2008 02:45:58 GMT

Kinsman Notch, NH

Well...welcome back I guess. It has been a couple exciting months since I've last posted. If I recall (or just scrolled down) I had last posted about the upcoming winter activities that I had scheduled. With the lack of activity here, I am sure you were wondering if any of them actually came to fruition. Well, I can assure you that the lack of activity here, is not related to my activity "out there".

January did get off to a bit of a slow start as winter was only partially here in Southern New England. Surely, we had the cold, but a lack of snow this year did put a curb on some of the winter sports. Namely, snowshoeing and cross country skiing. I was able to at least breakout the snowshoes as JT, Todd & I tested our endurance climbing up the Bunnell Notch Trail to Mt. Cabot (near York Pond, NH). A challenging climb at times and an extremely blustery night spent in the Forest Service Cabin were just the experiences we came for. Unfortunately, I was so distracted with being knackered that I didn't take as many photos as I'd liked but did get a couple good shots of JT & Todd:

Overall, we had a great trip and it was a good introduction into winter camping for Todd. Unfortunately, the trip was not a total success as no moose were sighted. This after we agonizingly, literally followed in one's footsteps for most of the route. I am yet to be convinced that moose are anything but a myth.

After returning home I was all set to enter my first snowshoe races, but the lack of snow caused the cancellation of the first race and scheduling took me out of the second (I'm not sure the even ran the 2nd race). So, with that the snowshoes have once again been hung to the wall anticipating next season's snowfall.

However, just because the snowshoes went away, that didn't mean winter was over. Almost immediately upon our return from Mt. Cabot, we (JT & I)began planning our first ice climbing trip of 2008.

Ice climbing has always been an activity I've wanted to try and with JT's help, I've finally gotten to. It was an incredibly exciting and stimulating experience. After some intial nervousness (more due to excitement than fear), I began to get my feet under me so to speak (while trying to keep my heels down, JT). The feeling upon completing my first route was an extreme endorphin high that can almost get me shaking just thinking about it. On top of that, I found the climbing itself much more physical than I had envisioned. Yet another aspect I enjoyed. Although it was a short trip and I was only able to get 3 climbs in (all on one route) due to the location being crowded, I came away instantly hooked and craving for the next opportunity. Luckily we were planning on getting in one more trip before winter closed out.

With winter rapidly fading away in Connecticut and February turning to March we each worked our schedules to fit in one last winter trip. Luckily (for me) I would not be the only newbie on this trip as Todd was joining us for his first foray into ice climbing. We returned to the same site JT & I had come before (Kinsman Notch, NH) but chose this time to come on a weekday. As most the world would be distracted with work and such, we could potentially have all the routes to ourselves. And as luck would have it, we arrived to find this just to be the case.

After initial equipment adjustments and preparations, we eagerly ascended the approach trail. With all the routes available, JT devised a plan that would allow us to setup two top ropes that would grant us access to 3 or 4 different routes. Watching JT lead climb (while I belayed) was like watching a master at work. So effortlessly and smooth, JT just flowed up the ice. With a three man team this time, the rotation of climbing, belaying & resting seemed to work out perfectly as we were each able to get in climbs on all the routes.

I've found ice climbing to be such an all encompassing activity. Not only is it more phsyical than I thought but there is a great deal of mental energy and focus required as well. Not only the problem solving of "which way do I go", but the focus of remembering technique (keeping my heels down, pull down on the tools, etc..) combine to really require you to live in that moment. And that isn't mentioning what is perhaps the hardest thing to do (at least as a newbie), that is trust your tools. Learning to place your crampon, without being able to see it mind you, and then trust it to hold, was the hardest part for me to tackle. The natural human tendancy is to over use your arms and try to pull yourself up the ice, but you are much better served (and more efficent) when using your feet. I'm fortunate to have JT as a coach or else I'm not sure I'd be enjoying it as much as I have.

With JT's coaching I could feel myself becoming much more confident on this trip. I set about trying to focus on the little tricks and tips of climbing and keeping myself focused. By the final climb of the day it was starting to become natural. So much so, that on that final climb, I felt like I just "did it", without thinking about it. It was great climb to end the day with and a real boost as I plan on going more next winter. It is an activity I am so glad I attempted and one I am so thankful to JT for coaching me on.

The other benefit to us having a three man team on this trip was that the resting member would become the "expedition photographer" so that many cool shots of us climbing could be captured. Between both Todd & I we probably got about 100 images, much to many to post, but here a few:

JT lead climbs (double roped) to setup Top Ropes

Todd flows up the ice on his first ever climb

JT goes for climb number 2.....

Here I go.....

Keeping the heels down....

So, I am now an ice climber. Albeit still a "rookie" but the seed has been planted. With some equipment adjustments and upgrades planned for the off-season, I am already eagerly anticipating next winter.

With spring now upon us in Southern New England, focus now turns to Trail Running, Canoeing & Hiking. My first trail race of the season is almost upon me (and Todd) as The Northern Nipmuck Trail Race is next up on April 5th. In addition, the first canoe trip of the year has been scheduled for March 29/30, as my sister Jen & I are planning a preliminary trip down the Hockanum River in hopes of entering the River Race on April 6th.

Final preparations have been made for my Appalachian Trail Trip as well. As I stated before, this year I am beginning my "Rest-Of-My-Life Section Hike" of the AT. Each year I hope to do 10 days on the trail, starting from North to South, picking up each year where I left off the previous. This year I'll be going from June 2 - June 8, from Mt. Katahdin to the West Branch Of The Pleasant River (or maybe even Monson if all goes well). I plan for this to take me about 20-22 years to complete (or until I retire). At that point I hope to attempt a traditional thru-hike. Speaking of which....I need a trail name before I start. Since I won't be on the trail long enough to gain one the traditional way, how about those of you I've hiked with come up with one for me?

Lastly, as Winter rolls into Spring, the Trail Race Calendar has been filling out as tentative dates become firm. Recently, JT, Todd & I all entered the lottery for The Mt. Washington Road Race. The lottery results have now been announced and it looks like both JT & I will be attempting this race. Perhaps the beginning of an annual tradtion? So, as of now, my race schedule looks like this, with just a couple dates left to solidify:

Northern Nipmuck Trail Race (16 Miles) - Saturday - April 5, 2008 - Union, CT

7 Sisters Trail Race (12 Miles) - Sunday - May 4, 2008 - Amherst, MA

Soapstone Mountain Trail Run (14.5 Miles) - Sunday - May 18, 2008 - Somers, CT

Nimpmuck Trail Marathon (26.4 Miles) - Sunday - June 1, 2008 - Ashford, CT

Mt Washington Road Race (7.6 Miles) - Saturday, June 21, 2008 - North Conway, NH

Soapstone Assault (4.8 Miles) - Sunday, July 20, 2008 - Somers, CT

Jay's Challenge (33 Miles) - Saturday - July 26, 2008 - Jay, VT

People's Forest Trail (7 Miles) - Saturday - August 2, 2008 - Barkhamsted, CT

Pisgah Mountain Trail Race (31 Miles) - Sunday - September 14, 2008 - Chesterfield, NH

Vermont 50 Miler (50 Miles) - Sunday - September 28, 2008 - Brownsville, VT - Pending Online Registration

Breakneck 20K (12.4 Miles) - Sunday - October 5, 2008 - Union, CT

Stone Cat Trail 50 Miler (50 Miles) - November 8, 2008 - Ipswich, MA

See ya out there........