Friday was hot and muggy. At 5:30pm, the thermometer read 88, but it was the 72% humidity that bumped the misery index up a quantum level. Still, that didn't stop 90 dedicated and insane runners from turning up at Haw Ridge fora 7 mile trail race.I admit I was quite hesitant about entering this race: my training has lagged due to my relocation so my base was low, I prefer an AM run, and I knew the heat/humidity would be an ass kicker. I finally decided that I need to try and learn even if it meant a humiliating DNF. So, Friday was spent psyching up and downing a river of pre-race water. I counted at least 6 trips to the bathroom before 4pm so my inside was a soggy as I expected my outside to be.
I joined the mix of racers seeking shade while also going through pre-race rituals- a few quick jogs, stretches, and inwardly focused expressions-- all of which I shared in, as well. I exchanged some nods with other racers and spent a few minutes answering questions of a first-time trail racer about the course which I knew nothing about. "Do you need a map or do you think it's marked?", he asked. Oh assuredly its marked, I authoritatively said, having run across the remnants of a previous race while mountain biking a few weeks earlier along these trails. We discussed racing strategies: we both had concluded that our intent was to survive not place.
With little fanfare we began our run--one which I expected would take me 70+ minutes given the heat, humidity, and terrain. I latched on to one runner who carried a pace I wanted and began the process of tuning out the weak willed carrying-on of my unwilling partner: my brain. By 2 miles in I was completely soaked and well into my hydration bottle. Running under that forest canopy, I had expected it to be cooler. It wasn't. It was just muggier and more like running under a wet blanket. I silently plodded behind my pacer. By mile 4 the trail was beginning to turn up again and the heat misery was climbing. By mile 5, we reached a refreshment station where a cold cup of water gave momentary heat relief to my head and chest. My partner was beginning to fatigue as was I. By 5.5 I had assumed the lead and was working with my new friend to set marks where we would slow our pace while keeping up encouraging banter.
My brain which had so long fought me along the course now decided to take a "leadership role" and was now encouraging my tiring legs that this wasn't so hard, just keep on turning over at 90 paces per minute! It even had the gall to impel me to speak out to my pacing partner and offered up words of friendly advice! By mile 6, the trail had essentially topped out and I found myself turning up the pace as it now dropped down to the finish line. I let out the clutch and dropped the quarter mile to the flats below striving to keep up the pace for the final 3/4 mile. By now I had dropped my friend and overtaken several others. I crossed the line at 1:15:02, 38th overall, and 13th in the masters group. Satisfactory for a training run. Meanwhile, my brain thinks it is a stud.
