No XL shirts remained by the time I finished, but the
RD let me buy another year's shirt. Well worth it for that grooooovy
tie-dye!
IN THE MUCK
6:20 a.m.
As the first to arrive, I got bib #1 and set out an hour ahead of the pack.
After
I'd warmed up I tried jogging, but I'm not used to uneven, rocky, rooty
terrain—and
mud. Decided to stick mostly to hiking.
I reached the first couple of aid stations
before the volunteers (and tables) had arrived, so I had self-service.
Within even the first few miles I could tell this trail would take everything I had and probably put me into energy debt. But, man, did I love the scenery. Every step of it. And often I had to watch every
step very carefully to make sure I didn't trip and break something.
When the pack started passing me, I couldn't believe how easily most of them bounded along on any kind of suface, seemingly oblivious to roots, slippery rocks, whatever. Man, I've gotten too used to asphalt.
Given the constantly changing terrain
and absence of regular mile markers, I couldn't accurately gauge
my pace. Well before mile 10 I began feeling early tightness
and hints of fatigue (which I usually feel at around miles 14–16);
likewise I had to start my psychobabble (which usually kicks in
around miles 18–20). By the time I returned to the start
area (12.4 miles) I knew I need not even bother trying to finish
the second section at any comparable pace. Just finish—period.
As I set out into the second section, I met one runner returning
for a DNF; that triggered my own doubts. Fortunately, soon thereafter
I did find a second wind—maybe from the PowerBars, maybe from
psychological habit.
At Iron Mine Lane I stopped to pet a golden retriever (left).
Poor, friendly Lobo had been wondering why no one else had done so (awwww).
At m17.8 I discovered two sizable (but not especially painful) blisters.
The next segment brought sizable climbs at about m19. I had a steady
descent to turnaround point J (19.4 miles) and a climb back uuuup the
trail. Here I met three Chicago ladies still headed to point J. They
caught up to me at point I, mile 21. I managed to stay with them for
a mile or so of run some, walk some, in stretches of maybe 100-150
feet.
Soon after I left point G (24 miles), I learned about
the role of the course sweeper, who caught up to me—the last
one out there (thus fulfilling the scripture, "those that are first
shall be last")—and stayed with me as I plodded on.
By the time I finished, no more XL shirts remained.
Disappointing. Still, I suppose that's no excuse for my trying
to go through airport security shirtless.
Tough as the day was, I loved being out there
in this. Gorgeous! I plan to look into doing more trail
events.
Left: the Chicago trio who passed me model their
finisher's shirts.
