My modest effort to empathize with the Vermont 100 Bimblers involved checking out a new CT 10K race hosted by YES Endurance Sports at Huntington State Park (near Redding). Although I usually don’t have much interest in races shorter than a half-marathon (the miles to dollars ratio just isn’t there and it somehow feels hard to justify driving across the state for a little jaunt I could do in my backyard at East Rock), this one just kept attracting my curiosity. Perhaps because of the disappointment of missing the prior event in the series at Sleeping Giant (Catamount and I puzzled over the lime markings still around when we ran there the following day and I later stumbled upon the YES website that made it all clear). I was impressed by the course route the organizers had developed for the Giant (similar–but better–than the horseshoe Bimble we did this Spring) and drawn by the lure of new trails.

Diana and I drove up to Redding, passing an inviting-looking reservoir and visiting an area of CT I had never seen before. Although we arrived at the last possible moment, I had time to register and make it through the short bathroom line. A gentleman in line behind me talked about his quest to run a race in every CT town, which he is tackling two per weekend (apparently two towns don’t seem to offer any races, but he has been in contact with them about this oversight). I didn’t recognize any faces in the crowd of about fifty and noticed that many of the runners were wearing road shoes and lacked the hydration toys trail runners tend to sport. The motto for the series (and logo on the tech T-shirt) was “Get off the roads and onto the trails,” and it looked like the organizers had been successful in attracting quite a few new trail runners. (After the race, I overheard one very fit road runner exclaiming in horror over her slow mile splits, and I was happy to offer a reality check and some encouragement.)

After barely making it to the start, I charged off more rapidly than usual, realizing I didn’t really remember how to pace myself for a 10K. Shortly afterwards, the bulk of the pack branched off for the 5K course, leaving me pleasantly alone in the woods on some very nice, twisty, runnable single track which passed several ponds and was occasionally broken up by sections of dirt road. Overall, the course and terrain reminded me the most, perhaps, of Soapstone. As I wilted in the morning heat, I hoped the Vermont Bimblers were experiencing cooler weather and reflected on how thankful I was not to be running 94 additional miles!

The one devilish curve-ball in the course was a murderous section which local runners call “the powerlines”: a series of long, extremely steep rocky climbs and descents (I have no idea how many–maybe three or four, though it felt like more), which left me exhausted and glad that I had worn the hydration belt. By that point in the race, I was finally within sight of a blue-spandexed runner, who I chased the remaining half hour on a mostly uphill path. (Fortunately, I was using my usual technique of bracing for constant climbing and viewing all flats and downhills as free, bonus gifts to appreciate but not expect!)

When I finally it made to the sunny, uphill finish, I heard Diana yelling encouragement, telling me I was the first woman in. I didn’t quite break the one hour mark, but I was thrilled to be able to hit the watermelon table and relax in the shade. There were ample refreshments (including fruit, bagels, and coffee) and gear prizes for the 5-year age group winners in the 5K and 10K (many of whom were surprised to find themselves with an award and curious about whether they had had any competition). I took home a nice Nathan handheld bottle and some flyers about the enticing events the organizers sponsor in Costa Rica (Diana looked dubious about the week-long, marathon-a-day, stage race along the coast, but seemed more open to the 4 day running/surf camp…)

Costa Rica 2011, anyone?

I suspect I may be tempted by the next race in the series, but I can’t tell you when or where it might be.

When I signed up for the Northern Nipmuck 16 mile trail race, I imagined that it would be a gentle, beautiful cruiser. Iggy’s bulletin board comments (“much easier, not that rocky or mountainous”) resounded in my brain. Somehow, I failed to register Forrest’s description of it as a “much longer Bash.” The beautiful part was certainly accurate!

I met up with Iggy and Allstate to carpool. They graciously denied having doubts about whether I would make it out of bed for the meet-up (though I had doubts given my proclivity for insomnia.) We passed our excitement and vague nervousness back and forth and–learning from Iggy’s past experience with the lack of toilets at the race start–made a strategic stop at a Golden Arches on the way. (Should have grabbed another round of coffee!) Iggy put her iphone to good use, finding directions and looking up her past race time. She remembered areas of ice in 2007, while we debated T-shirts vs. sleeveless tops for the anticipated 70 degree April temperatures.

After arriving at Bigelow Hollow State Park, we found Suresh and his friends, took some pictures, and milled about enjoying the wonderful sunny weather. As we lined up for the start under tall evergreens, I wondered if Catamount (a “maybe” pending late-breaking childcare arrangements) would show up to join us at the last minute (like Suds’ memorable last-second start at Monroe Brook last October). He didn’t.

The course, a hilly, 8 mile out-and-back, did not disappoint. It was lovely single track the entire way–mostly moderately technical–with periodic shallow water crossings and short rocky climbs that were indeed reminiscent of West Woods. Several sections paralleled beautiful rushing mountain streams, high from all the recent rain. I quickly decided to run through the water and the occasional boggy, muddy areas. As the temperatures climbed during the race, the cool water felt good on my feet. I ended up running the majority of the race solo, except for brief interactions with a racer named Wayne, with whom I leapfrogged from mile 3 to 13 (he passed me on the all the ups; I passed him on all the downs).

As we neared the turn-around point, we had to start playing chicken with heavy-charging, returning front-runners along the narrow ridgeline single track. In my efforts to make room for the leaders, I kept tripping and rolling my ankles as I moved off the trail. After turning around and refueling, I soon saw Suresh and then was amused to hear Iggy and Allstate chatting and laughing long before I saw them emerge into view.

Throughout the race, I felt less energetic than usual, possibly because of poor sleep (at each aid station, I coveted the volunteers’ Box o’ Joe and almost asked for a hit). But despite my tiredness, I seemed to be holding a pretty strong and consistent pace (42 minutes at mile four; 1:28 at mile eight; 2:15 at mile twelve). At the mile 12 aid station, I realized I was potentially on track for a sub-3 hour finish (given that the last mile was largely downhill), so I set that as an arbitrary goal.

At that point, a strange thing happened. My legs rebelled, abruptly deciding they were no longer willing to go uphill. Running any uphill sections, even short or gradual ones, was suddenly out of the question. And hiking them was not going much better. I was reduced to pushing on my quads with my hands to try make any uphill progress. This was a new and unpleasant racing experience; I still don’t know quite how to explain it(not enough hill training? too much hill training?). Fortunately, I could still manage to run flats and downhills, and, fortunately, the last mile was downhill! After an exhausting last few miles, the finish was anticlimactic, just me and the time keeper and two runners waiting for friends in the whisper-quiet woods. (The race headquarters and food tent were located across the street about a half mile away from the finish.) My time ended up being 3:00:44 (not bad considering the rebellious legs) and one of the waiting runners told me I was the fourth female to finish.

After a walk to the car to ditch my nasty, mud-soaked shoes, I went back to the finish to cheer on the others (where I then became one of the two token spectators, serving a useful purpose by directing people to the finish line). Based on the some of the runners’ colorful comments and hobbling gaits, it appeared I wasn’t the only one to have underestimated the challenges of Northern Nipmuck. Suresh came in looking strong, then quickly disappeared to find fluids. Soon after, I again heard Allstate and Iggy chattering away long before I saw them (although I’m not sure they were laughing this time). All the way to the bitter end, they negotiated… Allstate proposing a joint finish…Iggy refusing in frustration (“You’re going first, you hauled me through this whole ^&%! race!”)…but countering with a relieved finishline hug. (Apparently, it was a tough day for her).

We walked back to change clothes, then went to the food tent for some tasty post-race pizza. When one of the race organizers overheard me wishing for a wet wipe to clean up my bloody shins (forgot to mention my two falls), he brought over three large packages of baby wipes, which he urged us to take with us (apparently, he is a baby wipe tester eager to unload excess product). We dubbed the baby wipes our “finisher awards” and made sure to pose for a photo with our hard-won trophies (which rapidly become very useful, given the primitive restroom facilities). All in all, it was great day at a wonderful and challenging race. By next year, I’m sure I will be in need of more wipes…

Nadia

To see more pictures, click here

On the drive up to the Colchester Half Marathon this weekend, I realized that I hadn’t run a road race in exactly a year–since last year’s Colchester.   In some respects, it is about as close to being a trail run as a non-trail run can be.  Lots of wildlife (mostly bovine) and several sections on narrow, muddy dirt roads–snow-covered this year–keep you entertained. The Bimbler contingent (minus Bimble, unfortunately) ended up being the same group which had run a Guilford 16 miler the weekend before (which, I should say, was a strikingly similar run:  same lovely rural scenery alternating wooded areas and farmland, same rolling hills with the occasional killer grind).  So we were all well-prepared for the challenges and pleasures of Colchester.

I drove up with Catamount and was glad to be able to find Sport at the registration area (among nearly 400 other intense-looking runners). Guthrie and Scoobie were busy doing appetizer runs, so we didn’t locate them until right before the start (sorry we didn’t find you for the ritual pictures!)  I debated ditching my water belt, since aid stations were available, but out of force of habit decided to keep it at the last minute.

The perfect amount of overnight snow and above-freezing temperatures gave us ideal conditions: mostly clear roads, easy footing, and lush, sparkling snow-covered tree boughs everywhere you looked. I enjoyed chatting with Sport for a few miles and overhearing other runners’ conversations.  One guy teased another for not going barefoot.  Another woman told her friend that, no matter what age you start, you will peak after about 10 years of running (which means I am at least 10 years over the hill!)  At the 6 mile mark, I had a moment of deja vu when I encountered the enthusiastic race director, Rick Konon, on the first killer dirt hill.  He ran around high-fiving all passing runners and again exhorted me to “pump those arms.”  (To my amusement, Catamount later told me he resisted engaging Rick in an on-the-fly debate about running form and efficiency.) The highlight of the race for me came at around the 10.5 mile mark. There was a nice downhill on a narrow, snow-covered dirt lane which for a moment made me feel like I was on a cruiser ski slope whizzing by the slope-side condos. The route crossed a bridge over an icy rushing river, then entered a wooded winter wonderland.  As I started up a small hill, slipping a little on the packed snow surface, the sun burst out from behind the clouds, making the whole snow-drenched landscape sparkle dramatically. At that precise moment (no kidding), my ipod launched into U2’s  “It’s a Beautiful Day.”  I’m sure I had a ridiculous smile on my face as I waved to the volunteers and (yes) a few of the large spectating cows. I let that dazzling moment sustain me as I turned the corner for the last, long uphill stretch. It seemed to go on forever.  I had been experiencing some thigh pain throughout the week (and throughout the race) and it intensified during those last few miles.  I tried to practice accepting the sensations and maintaining my focus. It was an uncomfortable and difficult push, but I was able to maintain my pace and pass a couple of runners before finishing with a time of 1:50:30 (a few minutes faster than last year, so maybe I’m not too far over the hill). Sport, Scoobie, and Catamount arrived in quick succession. (Given how ready I was to be done, I was very impressed that Guthrie and Scoobie headed right back out for dessert runs to complete their designated training mileage.)

After giving one of the massage therapists a crack at my leg, I enjoyed joining the rest of the crew for a tasty vegetarian-friendly spread in the school cafeteria (veggie lasagna and string beans with almonds).  It was truly a beautiful day in Colchester!

Congratulations to everyone on a well-run race.

Nadia

While waiting for the race to begin, I overheard much talk regarding the prior week’s Providence marathon and the following week’s Nipmuck .There was a man standing near me with two dogs who could definitely have won one of those dog-and-owner lookalike contests: all three had a similar stocky build and similar scraggly, wiry black-grey hair.
The race director stood on a chair and thanked sponsors, explained the lack of a timing system (preferring to donate more proceeds to the Women’s Shelter), and urged us to be careful on the slippery rocks and enjoy ourselves. The course began on a wooded dirt road, with lovely views of the water, sightings of beach roses, and plenty of muddy areas (fortunately, Leatherman’s Loop had desensitized me to the sensation of plunging right through!) It had rained during the afternoon, leaving the area pleasantly cool and a bit misty. I found myself going out faster than advisable, but still being passed by most of the crowd. As I went up one of the course’s few hills, I heard very heavy breathing behind me, before being passed by a guy with a shirt touting “LONG, HARD COX mountain marathon.” (Oddly, he complimented my breathing as he passed me.).

I managed to get ahead of him and several others when the race veered off on to a single track hiking trail, with lots of slick rocks, though I continued to fear that I might have gone out too fast. The route then ran parallel to a railroad on chunky gravel, exiting Bluff Point park en route to Haley Farm state park, affording more water views and some swan-sightings. After a crossing an old bridge over the railroad, we ran a pretty loop through a meadow with water views reminiscent of Branford point, crossed a small stream on a boardwalk, then ran uphill into another wooded section bordered by marshy wildflowers and rough-hewn rock fences. After retracing my path back along the railroad (the one smoother trail in the heavy gravel now shared by outgoing runners), I was fatigued, but relieved to return to the wide, wooded dirt road and pleased to be able to finish the loop holding my pace and feeling strong. After crossing the finish, I munched on bagels and fruit and scored a second massage while waiting for Diana and her Mom to finish their walk. (As a vegetarian, I can’t vouch for the clam chowder, but others seemed to be eating it with gusto.) Mom reportedly picked up the pace in the last five minutes to beat in the final walker by a few seconds! They reported a gorgeous, scenic walk, but were disappointed that most of the water and food ran out before they arrived, given the unexpectedly large crowd. I saw Brian, another intermittent Bimbler, as I headed off to change clothes, but no other faces I recognized.

No winners were announced, given the timing mix-up, but the raffle did not disappoint…among the many prizes were a casino restaurant voucher, large Starbucks baskets, foot care kits, karate lessons, cycling shop gift certificates, and a case of wine–distributed one bottle at a time. (When a young kid won the white wine, they kindly swapped it out for him).
All in all, it was a wonderful evening. I shocked myself by coming in five minutes faster than last year (57:29 and I think third in my age group). And Di’s mom scored a pizza gift certificate! Idiosyncrasies and all, I would certainly recommend this race for next year.

For the full results, click here.