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SRRC Race Reports
The Yin and Yang of Trail Running
by Phil Holt
Life is a journey. If it isn't, let's just assume it's a journey. Investing
time every week to cover ground one foot at a time, runners are often
reminded of this journey thing, usually when the miles are behind them. A
trail run on a beautiful day is a vivid reminder of the beauty and mystery
of creation and how wonderful it is to be able to run under the shelter of
the trees or along the edge of a meadow looking out across hills and
farmland.
My search for running enlightenment brought to me to Newark, DE on Saturday,
April 30 to run the Delaware Trail Marathon. I'd had a cold all week. It
rained all day. I had to wade across a river four times. I was muddy up to
my knees, I got lost a couple of times adding about three miles to my run,
and I had a great time. Every race is an experience, and this one was no
exception. So what did it teach me?
The sun shines no matter what is in front of it
It had rained all through the night, and when I peeked out the window of my
luxuriously appointed room at the Howard Johnson's on Saturday morning, it
was still raining. You can put up with almost anything for a few miles.
Today was going to be more of a challenge, though. I was glad I brought a
hat--it would keep rain out of my eyes. According to the forecast, the sun
was going to come out later in the morning before thunderstorms rolled in
for the afternoon. I've run marathons in the rain before--once you're warmed
up, being drenched is tolerable. After missing the Dunkin' Donuts across
from the hotel, my breakfast options were reduced to the cup of coffee I was
able to scavenge at the race-day packet pickup. Barbeque would be waiting
for us at the finish. I'd be getting there by around lunch time, so I
figured I'd make up for it then.
The pre-race briefing included detailed instructions about the course and
how to read the trail markers. Most of the route had large arrows of chalk
on the ground to mark important turns. The race director then calmed our
nerves about the conditions. The rain had washed most of the chalk away, but
the little flags were still there. If we paid close attention, we'd probably
get lost, but it wouldn't be too hard to get back on track. So it was
raining, and I was probably going to get lost. It would still be fun. The
start sent us running enthusiastically across the field to the tree line
where we would pick up the trail.
The obstacle is the path
The sun never did come out, and it rained pretty much constantly all
morning. As soon as our feet began kneading the wet ground, it was
transformed. Depending on which stretch you ran, it ranged from a squishy
mess, to a massive pudding of slippery muck, to a shoe-sucking bog that
would leave you running barefoot if you weren't paying attention. At about
mile three, the course meets its first obstacle--a river. Looking across it,
you could see the little flag on the other side. It didn't matter how you
did it, but you had to make it the 50 yards or so to the other side. Since
the water is only thigh-high at this crossing and the bottom is rocky,
leaving your nice running shoes on is recommended. We would cross this river
four times during the race. It actually felt good, and it was an effective
way to wash all the mud off our shoes and legs. Unfortunately, we were muddy
again almost immediately as we clamored up the mudslide that formed where
runners came in and out of the river.
Move and the way will open
Marathon entrants simply run the whole course twice, which adds up to a
little more than 26.2 miles. Since we were all soaked to the skin within the
first few hundred yards of the race, we had an incentive to keep
moving--it's the best way to stay warm. While conditions were challenging,
it was also easier to keep moving than try to tiptoe around the puddles and
muddy stretches. For the most part, a little patience in the mud was
rewarded with, well, more mud, but every now and then there was a little
wooden bridge or a road crossing where you could actually run without
feeling the soles of your feet sliding out from underneath you. By the
second loop, the field had spread out so that I was able to run the last ten
miles or so mostly in solitude.
Go up until it is time to go down
The course for this race was nowhere near as hilly as the HAT 50K. It was
far from flat, but most of the inclines were gradual enough that you could
run them. On a normal day, the downhill stretches provide a little welcome
relief. In this case, the slippery mud added to the excitement as our feet
slid every which way while we tried to stay upright. One stretch of the
trail was particularly memorable. It offered a few rugged miles starting
with a very steep and winding climb to the top of a ridge followed by a long
and treacherous downhill descent to the river crossing. Almost all of it was
a deep, thick, slippery, pudding of mud offering no traction. The downhill
was littered with fallen trees and low hanging branches. In many spots, the
mud was smooth and flattened into various body shapes from people sliding
and falling.
When you seek it, you cannot find it
The race director warned us that we would probably get lost, and I was not a
disappointment. I added most of my extra miles early in the second loop
where a wrong turn took me way off course and all downhill. To get back on
the right trail, I had to back-track and do it uphill. This isn't an ideal
use of endurance. The second time I got lost I was distracted by the relief
of getting off the muddy hill and missed my turn for the river crossing.
After running for a little while, I noticed that there were no other
footprints. That meant that I was either winning or lost. I knew I was lost.
Another back-track took me to the final river crossing, but once across, I
had no idea where to go, so I waited until another runner came by, and we
puzzled out the direction by determining that one of our two choices would
take us into Pennsylvania, but the finish was in Delaware.
Pain Is Inevitable. Suffering is Optional
With three miles to go to the finish, I'd already run about 26 miles. At
this point, the handful of M&Ms I'd eaten and the couple of cups of Gatorade
I'd had could not compensate for hunger and fatigue. I was still running,
but I was beginning to feel famished and exhausted. I'm sure I could smell
the food from a mile away. It was hard not to be happy, though--I'd been
rained on since 7:30 in the morning, I was muddy up to my knees, and had
splashes of mud decorating my shirt, but I was almost done. All I had to do
was get done.
At the finish, the organizers had hot food waiting for us, so I didn't even
bother hosing off the mud. I just sat down and tore into some lunch. After a
hosing down, I changed into dry clothes. Being warm and fed at last made it
easy to smile.
After enlightenment, the laundry . . .
Was all this worth it? You bet. It's amazing how much mud shoes, socks,
shorts, and a shirt can hold. I had to rinse everything again just to get it
ready for the wash. But now that everything's been laundered. I'm ready for
the next race!
5/2005
The SRRC would love to hear about your running, racing, or crewing experiences! If you would like to submit a race report, to be posted on the SRRC website, please email srrunner@srrunners.org.