Race Report: William O'Brien 10 mile Trail Race (June 22, 2013)

It was a muggy morning at William O'Brien State Park for the annual 10-ish mile trail race, the 7th stop on the 2013 UMTR Trail Race Series. I was already dripping with sweat during my pre-race warm-up jog, so I believed we'd be in for a survival-of-the-fittest type of race (that is, those who planned to go out hard and then hang on for dear life would likely be fading fast). 

For this year, the race organizers moved the start/finish area from the river's edge to a spot with more parking a bit higher on the hillside. It made the course just a tad shorter than last year, but still more than 10 miles (about 10.3, they reported and my Garmin confirmed that). The change to the course also put the hilliest section of the loop later in the race. The new start/finish didn't make much difference from my perspective, with the exception of one short (and only) section of single track that paralleled the park drive heading down to - and back up from - the river. The front pack made it through that area with little stress, but I can imagine that the larger group behind got rather squeezed. 

Competition was stronger than my most-recent races. Out front, Jason Finch from River Falls, Wisconsin set a blistering pace in leading the race from start to finish. He must be able to float in mid-air, because he ran sub-6:00 miles on a course that - while not technical - is simply not "fast": the footing is uneven, there was a bit of mud, and there are plenty of rolling hills, particularly during the second half of the race. I found an older post about Jason here. Clearly a talented runner.

Having that one race leader flying out front tends to pull along the entire field, and this race was no exception to that rule. As my dear readers know, I'm not much of a speedster, so I was not surprised to find that I was sitting barely inside the top 25 as we pounded down the hill and through the first couple of miles. I assumed that I'd make a move when we got to the hills, but even on the first couple of them I was losing ground to those ahead. I was running as hard as I could reasonably sustain, so I began to feel settled in my fate when I failed to pass ANYONE in the next three miles. Halfway home, sitting in about 22nd place, and not making much headway. Sigh.

Finally, we hit some rolling hills on grassy terrain, and the over-eager runners ahead began to come back, albeit slowly. The fact is that no one whom I managed to pass was willing to give up without a fight, and I had to work very hard over the final three miles to reel in and move past just a few competitors. I wasn't exactly zooming home, but I did manage to crawl and battle my way slowly up to 12th place by the finish line. Results.

The top 10 runners included three teenagers (wow, nice work guys) and an array of strong runners in their 30s and 40s. I managed to capture the old guys' division, a point of pride at this point in my racing career. And unlike last year, there were no bizarre freight train incidents! A good race at a good venue, with very friendly volunteers and race organizers. I recommend it. Hope it stays on the Grand Prix circuit next year too.

Bring on the Mud

Next up: Mudders and Grunters 5 mile trail race in FDR Park on Sunday, March 27, 2011.

Yes, I prefer longer races (can't keep up with the speedsters anymore - I have no speed at my age), but I've had so much fun at this race over the years that I just have to go back. It's raining today, and more rain is predicted during the week, so I'm hoping for a real slop-fest on Sunday morning. Mud, mud, glorious mud, nothing quick like it for cooling the blood.

As an added treat, my 17 year old son has decided to leap into the mire this year. I don't think he's race-fit, but I do think he can manage to have a blast wallowing around in the mud with everyone next weekend.

People ask me about running these kind of races, particularly about special gear, techniques or other tricks. Actually, I think it's pretty darn simple:

1. You need shoes with some traction, preferably lightweight ones because they're going to get wet and muddy. Trail shoes aren't that expensive, get some.

2. You shouldn't wear extra layers of clothes, even if it's pretty cold out there. Once those extra clothes get wet and muddy, they just become heavy and cold. Keep it light & tight, move fast.

3. You need to tie your shoes tightly. You don't need to duct-tape them to your ankles, or any other crazy technique. Just tie them tightly and attentively. And skip the socks, they just get wet and heavy. A quick slathering of petroleum jelly on your feet will do.

4. Run with quick & light feet. In muddy conditions, you need to get up on the balls of your feet, chop your steps a little, and just keep churning along. Drop your heel into that quagmire, and it can bring you to a near-stop, and possibly suck the shoe right off of your foot.

5. Turn corners with your feet, not your torso. That probably sounds funny, but it's important on slick surfaces to keep your center of gravity over your feet, and run around the corner, as opposed to leaning hard and just having your feet come along for the ride (like you can on a track).

It's spring time, so that means time for some muddy, messy trail running. Enjoy.

Race Preview: Leatherman’s Loop

This Sunday (April 26, 2009) I’ll head north to Ward Pound Ridge Reservation to take on the Leatherman’s Loop, one of the most-popular (and muddy, and wet) trail races in this area. Shockingly, this race filled up with it’s limit of 900 entrants only 16 hours after online registration opened this year. I wonder if race organizers will need to start going to a lottery system soon.

It’s well worth browsing around the race website, it’s a bit irreverent and includes a video of parts of the course shot from the runner’s perspective. The most ironic thing about the video is that it doesn’t even really show how difficult some parts of the course actually can be on race day. Crossing rivers and splashing through mud aside, it’s that darned sand hill climb that really does you in. I used to run up the thing (in fact, years ago there were TWO of these, but one was found to contain a rare species of plant and is now off-limits), now I power-walk it (and sometimes pass people ahead of me who are trying to run).

I’m not sure how many times I’ve run this race, the online archive of results is sadly incomplete. I’ve got all my races recorded in my running log, I should go back through and count them up. It’s got to be close to ten times (update: I counted ... it's actually only five times, which surprised me, seems like I've run it more times than that ... maybe just because I like it so much). I’ve managed to slip into the top 10 a few times, and I think I won the masters division once or twice, but I don’t expect anything like that this weekend. Not only am I getting just a wee bit older, but my training is focused on longer distances right now, and my left hip has been rather tight lately. At this point, I’m no speed-demon and I won’t be able to keep up with the young turks who can attack and accelerate for this short distance of only 10 kilometers. But I’ll give it my best shot.

One worry is the heat. Looks like it could be record high temperatures this Sunday, possibly near 90 degrees F. Horrible. Stupid global warming. I can’t recall ever running Leatherman’s Loop while wearing sunscreen. Usually it’s rainy, windy, and miserable (i.e., perfect). I’m not well-adapted to running in the heat, especially when it comes on suddenly. At least it will make the river crossings feel deliciously cool!

My favorite memory of Leatherman’s Loop? One year I was running strong and working my way through the field. At about the halfway mark, I put in a 300 meter surge and barely managed to pass three runners just before we dipped left down into a particularly swampy section (just before the sand hill). No sooner had I made my move when I found myself face down in a mud puddle, maybe 5-6 inches deep : black, slimy, stinky swamp mud. I had tripped over some hidden obstacle, probably just a root. I didn’t even really have time to get my arms out, so I was literally flat on my belly and slurping mud. Of course, all three of those guys went right past me while I was lolling about in the mire, so all that work I’d done to reel them in and pass them had gone for naught. What could I do? I just got up and got after them again. I managed to reel them all back in, one at a time, the last one right after the sand hill. But I finished that race with black mud caked all over me, even in my hair.

I look forward to this race every year for the spirit, the course, and the friends I see at the start and during the race. Of course, I’d like it even more if it was 10 or 12 (or more) miles longer …

Race Report: Mudders and Grunters, March 29, 2009

March 29, 2009: Mudders and Grunters 5 mile trail race

Following some late-week rain, there was the promise of mud (glorious, stinky, swamp mud!) on race day for this year’s Mudders and Grunters race in Westchester County. The organizing Taconic Road Runners Club does a great job maximizing the use of the relatively small footprint of Franklin Roosevelt State Park, snaking runners through fire roads, single-track, swampy back lots, and even a couple sections of bush-whacking. The popularity of this race seems to grow every year, and runners come from farther and farther away to be a part of the fun.
I decided to run the race this year as ‘part one’ of an epic day of trail running, which would include an additional 17 miles of tough trails in Bear Mountain/Harriman State Park post-race … but that story is for another blog entry (coming soon).

Because Mudders and Grunters gives out not just the usual overall and age-group awards, but also recognizes top teams, most-muddy, bloodiest, etc. the race gets it share of nutty costumes and fringe lunatics. I love it. While warming up, I saw three women in bunny costumes replete with puffy tails and floppy ears, as well as a young couple dressed as French maids (yes, one woman and one man). There was a smattering of chattering high schoolers, nervous but keen on grabbing attention, along with the more-typical: the gazelles, the grizzly vets, the happy mid-packers, the hungover … you get the picture. And there was a large contingent of my friends running from the Reservoir Dogs, another NYC-based running team with a great subset of enthusiastic and adventurous trail runners. From my team, the New York Harriers, only myself and the ageless Bobby Hutton showed up. Too bad, the rest of you just don’t know what fun you are missing. According to the race results, there were over 400 finishers this year, which must be a record.

At the starting line, I bumped into old friends and rivals, including George “Cannonball” Buchanan (one of the toughest guys to race because he never holds back), Steve “Stats” Marsalese (who knows my running history, well everyone’s running history, better than we do), and Kevin Shelton-Smith (who is capable of flying across the Atlantic, missing the start of an ultra by 4 hours due to airport delays, and still placing in the race). Because this race is so short, I knew I’d have to run hard and fast to finish ahead of any of these familiar faces (some of whom I’ve been racing for over 20 years), much less to keep up with the dozen or so very-fit young guys limbering up nearby.

The start seemed to come suddenly, and we were off. The young lions loped to the front, the rest of us battled for early position in anticipation of the single-track and mud to come. I felt a slight twinge in my right hamstring from the beginning, not a good sign for an old fogey like me and something I’ll have to keep an eye on over the next few days. Back to the race: The first section of wading through deep, odiferous muck begins less than a mile in, and starts with a sharp left turn downhill after crossing a park road. I could see arms flailing in front of me, a sure sign of poor footing. I made it through the turn unscathed, but immediately ran into (literally) some young dude in front of me who was clearly in over his head. He actually apologized to me (well, we apologized to each other simultaneously, funny). Slurping through the slimy shin-deep black bog, I could see Cannonball already at least 30 seconds up on me. This is the way we race each other time and again: he gets out fast; I try to reel him in.

Over hill and dale we rambled, criss-crossing the park in search of mud wallows and thorns. With each technical section, I’d pull some time back, but with each fire road those ahead would pull away again … we were yo-yoing around the course. We came to another nasty swampy section, and I heard someone splashing through behind me, a quick glance confirmed that it was Stats and he was gaining on me. Luckily for me, there was a large tree that had fallen right in front of us. Me being the sneaky rabbit, I ducked under it and continued my assault. Behind me, I heard Stats groan a large "OOF!" at the tree (later I learned that he tried to go over it, but had thumped his belly on the trunk; and in fact the same technique had resulted in a moment of feeling stuck for Cannonball).

With half a mile to go, there is a stream crossing that never looks so bad … until you jump in and it’s twice as deep as you expected, muddy, weedy, and cold. I managed to struggle out of the water as quickly as I could, still chasing Cannonball who was now within range. But he still has such quick feet for a recently-turned-50 year old, and he just kept dancing along there in front of me, tantalizingly close. I gave it all I had, but just could not catch him. I would wager that he ran the first half of the race about 45 seconds faster than I did, and then I ran the second half of the race about 35 seconds faster than he did … so do the math (more-or-less) and he got me by 7 seconds at the uphill finish, with Stats just behind me by 8 seconds. We’d finished in 13th-14th-15th places overall, not bad for a threesome of old dudes. Oh, and Kevin was right there too, finishing in 17th. Of course, some barely 40 year old speedster from the Albany area had traveled down to the race and smacked us all convincingly by finishing over 2 minutes faster. Ah, well, that’s running: the strongest runner wins, period. I love that. No whining, no bad calls by the ref, no coach playing favorites. Just you and the course.

My prize for finishing second in my age group was one of the coveted, pink-frosted piggy cookies, which I consumed gleefully on my way back to the car before heading off on my second trail adventure of the day.

I’ve run this race a number of times, once even finishing 2nd overall. I often find myself a bit ambivalent in telling others about it. On the one hand, it is so much fun and challenging and hilarious, I feel like every runner should get a chance to experience it. On the other hand, part of what makes these cold, wet, sloppy trail races so much fun is that they are the polar opposite of mainstream: with small fields, crazy characters, joking race directors, familiar faces, and the camaraderie that comes from sharing something relatively obscure and zany and hard. I don’t want races like this to get too popular or crowded, but I clearly understand why more and more runners seek them out. May we always find the happy medium!

Great job, Taconic Road Runners Club, keep up the good work. And congrats to all of my fellow competitors, you earned it on that course. By "it", of course, I mean a long hot shower. With lots of soap. Please.

North Face Recon, take two

North Face Endurance Challenge NY: Bear Mountain Course Recon, take two

Last week, my wife Monika and I found that we could both use a vacation day. Luckily, neither of us had busy Fridays planned at work, so we got the okay from our respective bosses and spent a nice full day together. That’s been a rarity since the bouncing baby boy was born six months ago, so we relished the opportunity to spend some time with one another. Of course, we wanted to run trails. Perhaps that sounds silly to some of you, but the fact is that Monika and I actually designed our honeymoon specifically so that we could run on breath-taking trails together every day for one week, such is our love of running on dirt. In fact, on the last day of our honeymoon, we ran a trail race together on Angel Island in San Francisco Bay, and she ended up winning the women’s category. But that’s a story for another day.

On Friday, we went back to Bear Mountain so that I could combine our run with some additional course recon. Monika wanted to do about 12 miles and I wanted a little more, so we decided to keep things simple: we’d run the North Face Endurance Challenge half-marathon course (minus The Pines section), then I’d drop her off at the car and head out to recon the 10k course. I will be running the 50k course on May 9, but the first few miles and last few miles of all courses are the same, so for me it was a chance to really memorize the start and finish trail navigation and hills.

Friday was the first day of spring, but you wouldn’t know it at the time we woke up, because it was snowing outside. Beautiful, soft flakes floating down gently on our back patio. It was too warm for accumulation, but it was very pretty nonetheless. When our little guy’s sitter arrived, we headed north on the Palisades Parkway, gazing at the fresh coat of white snow on the trees and shrubs. It was snowing so hard that you could not see across the Hudson River, a temporary white out. By the time we got to Bear Mountain however, the sun was coming out and there was no trace of snow. Sigh. I love running in snow squalls, but Monika probably had a more rational take, “I’d rather not run all those miles while soaking wet.” Good point.

I noticed earlier in the week that the printed instructions in the 50k participant’s handbook did not match the map published therein. Hmm. Looking over the packets for the other distances, it seemed to me that the printed instructions trumped the map, so I went with those. I think they might be updating the map in the packet, because I noticed it was missing from the race packet recently.

The trails for the half-marathon (and especially the 10k) are mostly wide enough to run two-abreast, so passing your competitors in either of those events should not be a problem. There are many sections that are rocky; I think the trails were once carriage roads with cobbles, but over the years the erosion and freezing cycles have dislodged the stones and made the footing a bit tough. Even if you are running the 10k only, I still recommend fairly sturdy shoes or those sharp, loose rocks are going to hurt. The 10k course is a little more wet and muddy than the others, and there is one stream crossing where the footbridge has been washed out, those of you running that distance should have some fun with that. The half-marathon includes some steep climbs in the last 4 miles, the same uphills that the 50k and 50 milers will face in the final miles of their races. Be prepared to walk a little, especially right before you get to the Timp Pass. I dare anyone to run that last uphill … it’s hard enough just to hike it.

After the Timp Pass, there are only 3 small uphills remaining, but they are going to feel like mountains at the end of a long trail race. Luckily, none are very steep or very long, so you should be able to just plug your way along. Me, I just tried to keep up with my lovely wife as she hopped, skipped, and jumped up those hills on her first long trail run since the baby was born last September ... I could tell she was loving it.

When all was said and done, we both had wonderful runs and even managed to locate a Dunkin Donuts afterward (she for coffee, me for the decadent frosted treats). For us, it was a perfect day together, and we were home in time to play with the little one the rest of the afternoon.

I’m scheduled for the Mudders and Grunter’s 5 mile trail race next Sunday (March 29), and with rain predicted later this week that should be a delightful slop fest. That race seems to get more crowded every year, as more and more runners recognize the fun and adventure of running off-road (and crossing a chest-deep, ice-cold stream about a half-mile before the finish line). After that race, I’m going to refuel and then head across the river back to Bear Mountain to run the middle 17 miles of the 50k course. When I'm done, I will have seen the entire 50k course, which should give me more confidence and peace of mind going into the event. Now, you might say that racing a five miler and then heading out for a 17 mile trail run is a rather nutty plan, and you are probably right. But I’m sticking with it because I feel strongly that I need more long trail runs in order to be successful on May 9 in the 50k. I’ll post information about the middle 17 on this blog next week.