2013

From my x845 blog: A Run in the Catskills

I really don't have to go, I thought as I rolled out of bed at 4:40 am. Even the night before I thought the same, not really dreading the race, but with the forecast for rain and possible thunderstorms yet again this year, I was wondering, do I really want to do that again in those conditions?  This is my 9th year running the Escarpment trail run in the northern Catskill mountains of New York's Hudson valley. For only a few of those years was the trail fairly dry. Extremely slippery rocks aside, I'm a person who just really doesn't like water that much. Also, last year in the race I had a hard fall, twisted and bruised my left knee, and lacerated my right hand on a rock. I don't fall very often, but I very much prefer running on dry trails.

Still other reasons had me pondering the race and racing in general over the last year. I've become as much a hiker as a trail runner over the last two years. Even though I still run trails, most of what I do is a very free mixture of hiking and running. I don't think about training any more, I just go out on the forest trails for as long as I have and hike, run or explore according to how I feel. I call these run-hikes.  It's combining the best of hiking and trail running. I'll probably never go back to a running-only mindset. Many days I do mostly casual hiking with some select trail running over favorite terrain. With the concept of training out of my mind, I enjoy nature much more. 

I also just moved to a new area, and with the moving process I had less time out on the trails recently, so my fitness has been down a bit. I did mange to get in one 5.5 hour fairly relaxed 'training' run-hike two weeks before the race, so that was good, but I did no specific downhill training to condition my quads this year. My approach to the race this year was to try to finish within the 6 hour time limit and to also have some fun if possible.

I lined up at the very back of the pack at the start. But despite being at the very back, those around me still wanted to run the early slopes of  the long Windham climb, and I tried to mostly power hike, but I ran a little. It's about 3.5 miles with 1700 vertical feet of climb, not really too steep to run in most places, but it's a long way to run all the way up, and far too many people go up it too hard, including me a few times in the past. Some of them have to slow down higher up on the mountain or shortly thereafter on the first series of flats and downhills, but others last until later in the race before slowing down. It makes it interesting because you can get caught behind lines of people who are either slowing down or are having trouble in the more technical sections of the trail, particularly on the dangerous downhills.

I wasn't keeping track of time or my splits, but I topped Windham in something just over an hour, a nice conservative pace. From there the terrain rolls for over 5 miles to the bottom of the Blackhead climb, and there are several very technical downhill sections. To run the technical downhills well takes years of experience on such trails and a certain amount of confidence because in many places if you fall the consequences can be severe. A great many runners both new and old to trail running slow down on these downhills, and invariably I try to pass them because technical downhills are what I enjoy the most. But early in the race those steep downhills become a bottleneck as people who are not used to them slow down.

This year I started eating early in the race (a cliff bar while going up Windham) and grabbed 3 or 4 fig newtons or whatever they had at each of the aid stations. I decided to eat a lot because I hadn't done that much training and I was worried that I would really hit the wall late in the race. It was a cool day and that meant I could eat and more importantly digest more than usual. On hotter days I just can't get down that much food.

Going up blackhead I thought some would pass me because my intent was to go slow and conserve something for the end of the race. One person did pass me toward the bottom, but I caught up to him again, going slow and steady. I passed him shortly after the trail started downhill again. I wasn't really keeping track of time, but I topped blackhead just after noon, feeling pretty good.

I went easy on the rolling terrain between Blackhead and Dutch Notch, but enjoyed the downhills a little, my quads feeling pretty good, but starting to tighten up. I managed to pass a couple of people in there. At the Dutcher Notch aid station I drank some gatorade, grabbed a few cookies, and then started up Stoppel, the last big climb.  I felt steady if not strong as I started up the climb, loving the cooler temperatures (it was in the 60s for the entire run) because this is the point where you can really start to hit the wall in warmer weather. I had passed a few people at the aid station by moving right on through, but one guy caught and passed me at some point on the climb, and a few others seemed to be catching up, but they never did. Instead, I caught and passed a couple of people, including one right at the plane wreck.

At that point I thought, wow I'm still feeling pretty good, and I was energized from eating so much at each aid station. With all of the bigger climbs behind me, I started to run a little more freely, and once I got to the aid station at the end of Stoppel, I really felt like running. I spotted a brownie-like cookie that turned out to be very sugary, and also took a gel for later, but I was feeling so good after that I never ate the gel.

My plan, as it has been for the last few years, was to save enough to finish feeling strong, but more importantly feeling good enough to really enjoy that last few miles of the course. It's predominately downhill, and is quite runnable in many places, despite numerous very technical sections and ledge-drops, but all that I enjoy immensely.

I passed a few people going down to North Point, the open expanse of rock with sweeping views from the north around to the east and even southwest. From there I was really into it, feeling energetic and confident, and I started passing people at almost every technical section, as they slowed down. Even though the rain had stopped, the rocks were still wet and slippery for the last part of the race, with numerous steep ledge-drops. I was surprised though that the footing didn't bother me at all this year, and the precision of my footing seems to have improved. All that time out on technical trails in the past couple of years has markedly improved my proprioception. That translates into more fun because you can pick almost any line and handle it easily.

It probably seemed to some of the runners I passed in there that I was running the last couple of miles of the course recklessly. For me it wasn't, and I always let them know I wanted to pass. I was just feeling strong and having fun. I had saved up some energy because I didn't train this year, and I didn't want to crash late in the race. It worked out and I had a lot of energy for the finish. The time was 5:08, somewhere in the middle of the pack.When I enjoy it that much, I don't care where I finish.

So Escarpment is on my calendar for next year, and we'll see if I want to really go for it or not. Running to enjoy the running is far different from how I used to see things. Training and racing are fine and I'm happy with all the training and racing I've done in the past, but training for a hard and fast effort, and racing for the same, has a harder edge to it. I've come to prefer a more relaxed approach, one where I can spend more time overall out on the trails, enjoying the variety of the experience much more. While there are times when one wants to challenge oneself, that doesn't have to be always. There may come a time again when I care what my best effort could be, but I'm not sure. Enjoying the totality of the experience has been much greater for me since I've backed off on effort. The main consequence is that I can be out in the forest moving for longer periods, and I'm loving that.