Unfortunately, as the end of the semester approaches I must take a break from running. I have finals this week and important things rest on my grades this next year (ie: college scholarships). I have yet to complete the NCAA Eligibility requirements (I just need to get my high school transcripts and test scores sent) so it is unlikely that I will be contacted by many colleges. However I am definitely looking forward to the possibility of running cross country in college. I say possibility because while I may be a strong runner, I am certainly not the fastest.
When I was visiting the University of Idaho this past Fall I had the pleasure of meeting with one of the architecture professors. During the course of our little meeting, I asked him a whether or not I would be able to run cross country in college, what with the busy schedule that architecture programs seem to run across. To my surprise and delight, the schedule with cross country worked out perfectly.
Yet here I am again - knowing I am not the best runner out there, and I find myself wondering what the possibilities are of me making varsity my first year. Statistically speaking, this is rather difficult because I know no accurate conversion from 5k time to 8k or 10k time anything short of running an 8k or 10k (As a side note- I can't wait to run the longer races in college!). With that in mind, and with my not having completed the NCAA eligibility requirements, I look forward to hopefully being a walk-on.
Here's to the trails not taken!
(ie: trails completely not taken - taking the week off of running for finals)
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
The Capital Peak Mega Fat Ass Trail Run
[Update: Results are up. Apparently there were 130 or so runners. 15 of which did the 34 mile loop (crazy!) Here are the 17 mile results. I ran a 2:57 which isn't bad considering the conditions.]
I'm not sure if that's what the race is formerly called (Not quite), but I think it sounds better being that long.
This past Saturday I had the pleasure of running 17 miles. This was no ordinary 17 miles (That's because it was more like 18). Like most of my runs during this past off-season, it was full of adventure, treachery, pitfalls, hills, mud, and lonely, forest trails. But what made this run different than my usual off-season ventures? To answer that question I must give a semi-brief history of this off-season...
Well, since my cross country season had concluded with a disappointing exclusion from Nike's NTN invite, despite our team's magnificent third place finish at NTN Northwest, I had resolved to stay in shape through the off-season and start of my final year of track off right. For several weeks I had managed to do just that. Meanwhile, one of my good friends convinced me it would be fun to do a marathon towards the end of winter, however after talking to several other runners, I had decided that would be a bit too much for me. Shortly thereafter, my friend again came to me, this time pitching a 17 mile race full of mud, trails and all things I love. For the next few weeks, we convinced others to run with us, we dutifully increased our distances, and things were looking good. Then Christmas vacation hit. Even for the most dedicated of us, Christmas vacation set us back. Needless to say, we all began running again after the break.
It is here where I finally found a break from the intensity of our in-season running during cross country. Trail Running. Not just gravel trails that become boring after the first mile- but trails that are windy, changing, muddy, fun, and often get you lost. My runs grew from 45 minutes to an hour to almost two hours. The beauty of it all, is each time we explored a new place, (and then got lost) and I loved it!
Unfortunately, as the weeks before this 17 mile run turned to days, my friends and I who were planning on running this realized that we were not quite prepared. Determined, we got ready for the race anyways, constantly justifying the long(est run we had ever run at once) distance as merely another trail run, and not as a race.
When it came time to get up at 4:45 the morning of, we all piled into my car and drove down to Olympia and into the middle of the Capital State Forest. We arrived a little after seven and signed in. There was roughly 80 people there all bundled up. We sat and stayed warm by a fire before the race. Moments before the race began it started to snow (More of rain/snow mix really).
The race started off without too much frill and we just chugged along at a decent pace. The course had to be changed this year due to an overabundance of snow at the top of the mountain, so instead of one 17 mile loop, the run consisted of an 8 mile loop followed by a 9 mile loop (Rumors were going around afterwards that it was actually closer to 18 miles). I hung back at the beginning, because I knew I had a long ways to go ahead and also because I didn't intend to really race this.
About 30 minutes in I sped up to the other group of friends I had come with that day and I couldn't have chosen a worse time- all uphill and in deep mud. The trails, for that matter, were decent for the first few miles. After that (ie: the second half of the first loop, the last two thirds of the second loop) the trails were a mess. I don't mean to complain about them - indeed it was extremely fun to trek right through the mud and puddles (except for the four or so times were I really fell bad), but the conditions of the trails did make the run exceptionally harder. Also, going into this race I knew of the uphills I would be facing, yet elevation gain figures leave something to be desired. Those hills were killer, and I had been running hills on all my trail runs during the off-season!
After I caught up with my second group of friends I preceded to lead mostly for the remainder of the first loop. Things went quite well (except for short treacherous mud-clay hills in which every other step was a slip backwards), and by the end of the 8 miles I was very warm, and feeling remarkably well. Despite it being in the low 30s I decided to take off my sweatshirt and gloves. This ended up being a very bad decision. I also dropped off my powerbar I had been carrying because I didn't want it. Less than a mile into the second loop the 1200 ft elevation gain began. I took the end of the first loop pretty hard, and now I was regretting it. Worst of all, the hills were not merely a hated obstacle ahead of me, but they brought me to higher elevations, and therefore to snow. From here on out it proceeded to snow and rain in turns and I consequently got very cold, at some points numb.
For the most part of the race, or typically whenever you cross trails, there are strips of orange tape to assure you that you are, indeed, going in the right direction. Yet, for some reason there was, at one or two locations, orange spray-painted arrows pointing in the opposite direction we had come from. This would have gotten me lost, had I not decided to follow the footprints which went in the same direction that I was going. As far as marking the course went, the only time where there was difficulty in knowing which way to go was about 3-4 miles from the finish after coming down a steep trail/partially dry creek. This trail crossed another, but it was a 4-way intersection. I simply went ahead and followed the footprints, which was thankfully the correct way.
The most adventurous, and also the most dangerous part of the race for me, was the majority of the second loop. The second loop begins with a long uphill climb and thereafter sporadically goes uphill and downhill, through mud and through snow. By the end of the huge hill, I was able to keep with my friends for only a little while longer - I was feeling very weak due to a lack of food. I ate breakfast on the drive up at 6 in the morning, but that was it. I told my friends that I needed a break after that long hill and that I would take a short rest. I imagine I had about 7 miles to go, but I wished it was a lot less.
I began to run again, but it was slightly uphill and snowy with frozen ruts from footprints. I was feeling shaky and stumbled a lot when I ran. Despite my many moral obligations against it, I was forced to walk. I had to take several breaks, and I was fearful that if I were to sit down to rest, I may not get up. I even resorted to eating tiny bits of snow in order to trick my brain into thinking I ate something. I trudged onwards, pitifully, determined to finish. When I saw the sign saying 6 miles more, I was devastated. I took several more breaks and almost asked people who passed me for food. A few miles later I hit a water station and drank up. For the next 4 miles or so it was pretty much downhill. The worst part about this was a wretched clay "trail" I had to run through. The trail was more of a V shaped rut which caused every step to slide awkwardly into the middle. With my current state of wobbliness and tiredness every step could have been a fall. After about a half mile I was back on real trails again and someone nearby said we were 2-3 miles out. I was feeling pretty good here, and even better when I saw the "To Finish" sign, but the path wove a little longer than I expected.
When I finally finished, a good distance behind my friends, I immediately called for any food. I got a Cliff Bar in me and hobbled to the car. Apparently I didn't look so good, because my friend's dad offered to drive my car home instead. Looks had nothing to do with it. I didn't feel good. I was cold, tired, wet, hungry, shaky, and sore. I had also run the furthest in my life without enough preparation. This race was indeed an experience. After it was all said and done, and after I had eaten a good amount of food and sat in the car with the heat on full blast for about half an hour, I felt better. Since everyone pretty much felt the same way I did, we all decided to go straight home. The only problem was, we all got up at about 5 in the morning and had just run a very hard, long race. Naturally we were a little bit tired. So little, in fact, that everyone else in the car fell asleep before I even got out of the forest. The only reason I didn't fall asleep, is because I had packed an energy drink. A very smart move in retrospect.
The actual trails aside, the scenery there was amazing. Capital State Forest is definitely an awesome place to run, and I would love to explore the many, many trails further, but being 2 hours away makes that difficult. The range in large open forest, to narrow trails, to desolate cleared logging areas made for a subtle form of entertainment. When I run, I typically categorize an area by its vegatation, surroundings, openness, and other factors. The importance of this is two-fold: 1- It helps me to remember where I am if I get lost. 2-It keeps things from getting boring.
I will most likely do this race again next year with a few changes. I plan to train a little better for it, to run with food and water, and to get more people to run it.
(Haha. Wow. Just previewed this sucker. Boy is it long. I got a little carried away I guess.)
-Other than that, here's to the trails not taken!
I'm not sure if that's what the race is formerly called (Not quite), but I think it sounds better being that long.
This past Saturday I had the pleasure of running 17 miles. This was no ordinary 17 miles (That's because it was more like 18). Like most of my runs during this past off-season, it was full of adventure, treachery, pitfalls, hills, mud, and lonely, forest trails. But what made this run different than my usual off-season ventures? To answer that question I must give a semi-brief history of this off-season...
Well, since my cross country season had concluded with a disappointing exclusion from Nike's NTN invite, despite our team's magnificent third place finish at NTN Northwest, I had resolved to stay in shape through the off-season and start of my final year of track off right. For several weeks I had managed to do just that. Meanwhile, one of my good friends convinced me it would be fun to do a marathon towards the end of winter, however after talking to several other runners, I had decided that would be a bit too much for me. Shortly thereafter, my friend again came to me, this time pitching a 17 mile race full of mud, trails and all things I love. For the next few weeks, we convinced others to run with us, we dutifully increased our distances, and things were looking good. Then Christmas vacation hit. Even for the most dedicated of us, Christmas vacation set us back. Needless to say, we all began running again after the break.
It is here where I finally found a break from the intensity of our in-season running during cross country. Trail Running. Not just gravel trails that become boring after the first mile- but trails that are windy, changing, muddy, fun, and often get you lost. My runs grew from 45 minutes to an hour to almost two hours. The beauty of it all, is each time we explored a new place, (and then got lost) and I loved it!
Unfortunately, as the weeks before this 17 mile run turned to days, my friends and I who were planning on running this realized that we were not quite prepared. Determined, we got ready for the race anyways, constantly justifying the long(est run we had ever run at once) distance as merely another trail run, and not as a race.
When it came time to get up at 4:45 the morning of, we all piled into my car and drove down to Olympia and into the middle of the Capital State Forest. We arrived a little after seven and signed in. There was roughly 80 people there all bundled up. We sat and stayed warm by a fire before the race. Moments before the race began it started to snow (More of rain/snow mix really).
The race started off without too much frill and we just chugged along at a decent pace. The course had to be changed this year due to an overabundance of snow at the top of the mountain, so instead of one 17 mile loop, the run consisted of an 8 mile loop followed by a 9 mile loop (Rumors were going around afterwards that it was actually closer to 18 miles). I hung back at the beginning, because I knew I had a long ways to go ahead and also because I didn't intend to really race this.
About 30 minutes in I sped up to the other group of friends I had come with that day and I couldn't have chosen a worse time- all uphill and in deep mud. The trails, for that matter, were decent for the first few miles. After that (ie: the second half of the first loop, the last two thirds of the second loop) the trails were a mess. I don't mean to complain about them - indeed it was extremely fun to trek right through the mud and puddles (except for the four or so times were I really fell bad), but the conditions of the trails did make the run exceptionally harder. Also, going into this race I knew of the uphills I would be facing, yet elevation gain figures leave something to be desired. Those hills were killer, and I had been running hills on all my trail runs during the off-season!
After I caught up with my second group of friends I preceded to lead mostly for the remainder of the first loop. Things went quite well (except for short treacherous mud-clay hills in which every other step was a slip backwards), and by the end of the 8 miles I was very warm, and feeling remarkably well. Despite it being in the low 30s I decided to take off my sweatshirt and gloves. This ended up being a very bad decision. I also dropped off my powerbar I had been carrying because I didn't want it. Less than a mile into the second loop the 1200 ft elevation gain began. I took the end of the first loop pretty hard, and now I was regretting it. Worst of all, the hills were not merely a hated obstacle ahead of me, but they brought me to higher elevations, and therefore to snow. From here on out it proceeded to snow and rain in turns and I consequently got very cold, at some points numb.
For the most part of the race, or typically whenever you cross trails, there are strips of orange tape to assure you that you are, indeed, going in the right direction. Yet, for some reason there was, at one or two locations, orange spray-painted arrows pointing in the opposite direction we had come from. This would have gotten me lost, had I not decided to follow the footprints which went in the same direction that I was going. As far as marking the course went, the only time where there was difficulty in knowing which way to go was about 3-4 miles from the finish after coming down a steep trail/partially dry creek. This trail crossed another, but it was a 4-way intersection. I simply went ahead and followed the footprints, which was thankfully the correct way.
The most adventurous, and also the most dangerous part of the race for me, was the majority of the second loop. The second loop begins with a long uphill climb and thereafter sporadically goes uphill and downhill, through mud and through snow. By the end of the huge hill, I was able to keep with my friends for only a little while longer - I was feeling very weak due to a lack of food. I ate breakfast on the drive up at 6 in the morning, but that was it. I told my friends that I needed a break after that long hill and that I would take a short rest. I imagine I had about 7 miles to go, but I wished it was a lot less.
I began to run again, but it was slightly uphill and snowy with frozen ruts from footprints. I was feeling shaky and stumbled a lot when I ran. Despite my many moral obligations against it, I was forced to walk. I had to take several breaks, and I was fearful that if I were to sit down to rest, I may not get up. I even resorted to eating tiny bits of snow in order to trick my brain into thinking I ate something. I trudged onwards, pitifully, determined to finish. When I saw the sign saying 6 miles more, I was devastated. I took several more breaks and almost asked people who passed me for food. A few miles later I hit a water station and drank up. For the next 4 miles or so it was pretty much downhill. The worst part about this was a wretched clay "trail" I had to run through. The trail was more of a V shaped rut which caused every step to slide awkwardly into the middle. With my current state of wobbliness and tiredness every step could have been a fall. After about a half mile I was back on real trails again and someone nearby said we were 2-3 miles out. I was feeling pretty good here, and even better when I saw the "To Finish" sign, but the path wove a little longer than I expected.
When I finally finished, a good distance behind my friends, I immediately called for any food. I got a Cliff Bar in me and hobbled to the car. Apparently I didn't look so good, because my friend's dad offered to drive my car home instead. Looks had nothing to do with it. I didn't feel good. I was cold, tired, wet, hungry, shaky, and sore. I had also run the furthest in my life without enough preparation. This race was indeed an experience. After it was all said and done, and after I had eaten a good amount of food and sat in the car with the heat on full blast for about half an hour, I felt better. Since everyone pretty much felt the same way I did, we all decided to go straight home. The only problem was, we all got up at about 5 in the morning and had just run a very hard, long race. Naturally we were a little bit tired. So little, in fact, that everyone else in the car fell asleep before I even got out of the forest. The only reason I didn't fall asleep, is because I had packed an energy drink. A very smart move in retrospect.
The actual trails aside, the scenery there was amazing. Capital State Forest is definitely an awesome place to run, and I would love to explore the many, many trails further, but being 2 hours away makes that difficult. The range in large open forest, to narrow trails, to desolate cleared logging areas made for a subtle form of entertainment. When I run, I typically categorize an area by its vegatation, surroundings, openness, and other factors. The importance of this is two-fold: 1- It helps me to remember where I am if I get lost. 2-It keeps things from getting boring.
I will most likely do this race again next year with a few changes. I plan to train a little better for it, to run with food and water, and to get more people to run it.
(Haha. Wow. Just previewed this sucker. Boy is it long. I got a little carried away I guess.)
-Other than that, here's to the trails not taken!
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