CMS Men's Racing Team

7 Sisters 2006

2006-09-18T22:30:00.000-07:00

I’ve been slacking in my race reports lately, and when I finally decided to get back to writing, I realized I had to go back to some earlier races. The quality of some of the early season trail races was impressive, and the stories need to be told. For many of the New England trail running stalwarts, 7 Sisters is the start of the trail racing season. If this is true, then the season got off to a very fast start.

I spent the night prior to the race over at the Low’s. Paul seemed to be running well, after a course record at Merrimack, and I asked him what his plan was for 7 Sisters. As I had expected, after the first year he ran the race and destroyed the course record, he hadn’t been tapering much for the race. This year, he said he backed off a bit in his training so he could give himself a chance to lower his own record. I made a mental note to wish him a good race, and let him go very early on.

At the start, Paul and I got out into the lead, and after a couple minutes, he took off. That’s about all the first hand knowledge I have of his race. I settled into my own pace, with Leigh Schmitt and Dmitry Drozdov close behind. Dmitry had beaten me at the Muddy Moose trail race two weeks before 7 Sisters, but I thought he might struggle with the rough Sisters terrain.

As we got to the top of the first hill, Leigh snuck by me. I tucked in behind him, and soon realized he was very fit. I was able to stay with him for the first two climbs, but he began to pull away on the third climb. If you start racing too early at 7 Sisters, you will pay the price in the second half, so I backed off a little. As soon as a gap opened up between Leigh and myself, Dmitry passed me and closed on Leigh at a rapid pace. I was definitely wrong about his trail running abilities. He was handling the rocks and roots as well as any of us.

I was able to maintain contact with Leigh and Dmitry almost until the turn around at halfway. Not long after I started the long downhill to turn around, I saw Paul coming back up. He said he hit halfway in 49 minutes, which is pretty insane. He was definitely going for the course record, and then some. Dmitry and Leigh weren’t all that far behind, either. I still felt good, and was hoping to reel them in over the second half of the race.

I never saw either of them prior to the finish, though. Leigh’s ability to run fast on technical trails wore down Dmitry, who probably didn’t gain any time on me after the halfway point. Leigh set a big PR of 1:48:15 for the race, and became one of the very few to dip under 1:50 at 7 Sisters. Dmitry ran 1:50:19, which is probably the fastest debut.

After winning the race last year by a whole 2 seconds over Leigh, it was all I could do to hold onto 4th place this year. I noticed Matt Estes behind me about 20 minutes from the finish. I tried to drop him on the last couple of climbs, but it wasn’t enough. He’s a phenomenal descender, and I only had about 10 seconds on him when we began the final descent. Just like last year, I had to bypass my brain and throw myself down the boulder-strewn free fall that is the 7-Sisters finish. I was able to stay on my feet long enough to hold off Matt by 5 seconds. I managed to run an even paced 1:52:03, which is my second fastest time.

However, the race of the day belonged to Paul Low. He destroyed his old course record by over a minute, and even though Leigh had the race of his life, Paul still won by over 6 minutes. It would be interesting to see if Paul would run any faster with some competition, but who would you get? Train a mountain goat to run the course and pin a number on it?

Thumbs up

2006-06-23T10:01:00.000-07:00

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Originally uploaded by gbridgman.

Dave Dunham cresting Mt. Washington.

Some Stats from Dunham:

Five people finished in under 1:05 (best is 8 in 1999)

Seventeen people finished in under 1:10 (best is 20 in 1999)

Seven women finished in under 1:20 (previous best was four, in various years)

Nineteen women finished in under 1:30 (best is 23 in 2004)

Anna Pirchtova ran the 4th fastest women's time ever

Nicole Hunt ran the 9th fastest women's time ever

Laura Haefeli ran the 23rd fastest women's time ever

Eric Blake ran the 18th fastest time ever

Paul Low ran the 23rd fastest time ever

Team results

CMS won its 15th consecutive title, running the 13th fastest time ever.

CMS 40+ won its second consecutive title, again setting a course record with a 47 minute win over the PR Moose milers. CMS 40+ time was good enough for second overall.

PR Moose won the 50+ with the 5th fastest time and a 3.5 min. victory over WCRC.

La Sportiva set a new women’s CR by 8 minutes in a 6 min. win over Moving Comfort (who were also under the record). The CMS women finished 3rd with a time that ranks as histories 8th fastest.

PR Moose won the 40+ women’s with the 2nd fastest time ever (behind only their CR from 2005).

PR Moose also won the 50+ with the 5th fastest time ever.

Paul Low

2006-06-20T12:28:00.000-07:00

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Originally uploaded by gbridgman.

1st CMS finisher and 2nd overall.

Eric Morse

2006-06-20T11:49:00.000-07:00

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Originally uploaded by gbridgman.

Mt Washington, 2006.

1st Place Men's Open; 1st Place Men's 40+

2006-06-13T21:34:00.000-07:00

Return to Nipmuck Trail Marathon 2006

Back in 2001, I ran the Nipmuck trail marathon mostly due to the fact that it was on the Grand Tree trail racing series circuit. It left such an impression on me, I haven’t returned until this year. It’s not really that dramatic. In the five years between races, I’ve been doing more mountain races, and Nipmuck seems to either conflict with the Wachusett mountain race, or I end up being out of town for the race. Of course, the fact that Nipmuck tends to be hot and more challenging in the second half didn’t help.

After a rough start to my trail racing year, with no wins so far and a 4th at 7 Sisters after winning it last year, I figured I should give Nipmuck another trail. The worst that could happen would be that I would get a better idea of the state of my endurance. Although sections of Nipmuck are fast, it is at least a three hour affair, with only Dave Dunham coming close to running under three hours. Due to fact that my long runs have been mostly around 2-2.5 hours, I planned on running easy for the first half. Going out too hard at Nipmuck is not fun; the course gets progressively harder in the second half, and it usually starts to get much warmer.

After Dave’s lengthy warnings about the dangers of the Nipmuck trail, the runners bolted for the singletrack. I was pleased to find myself in the lead without much effort. At the front I could control the pace and make sure things didn’t get too aggressive early on. Of course, this plan depends on cooperation from the guys following me. Well, I led for a little while, but when the trail opened up, three guys came flying by me. Considering how many trail races I do in NE, I was surprised that I didn’t recognize any of them. The guy behind me, Dave Herr, I knew. Dave and I have had many close races on the trails and at mountain races. Dave had actually just PR’ed in the marathon the week before with a 2:29 at age 41. Obviously Dave was in shape, but it remained to be seen how his recovery was progressing.

The runner leading our pack was a young guy by the name of Nick, and he seemed to be in pretty good shape. Dave seemed pretty comfortable with the pace, but the two other guys were breathing hard considering we were only a few miles into the race. The first half was pretty uneventful. Nick lead for a ways, but I ended up leading again to the turnaround at six miles when he got a bit off course. I took my time getting drinks at the turn, and everyone was content to let me take the lead back to the start/finish area. About 9 miles into the race, I had to take a pit stop, and Nick was back at the front. The pace now seemed to pick up a bit. By the time we hit the aid tables at 12 miles, Nick, Dave, and myself had separated ourselves from the rest of the field.

As Nick dashed back to the trail for the last 14 miles of race, I grabbed my water bottle and followed. Dave was the last to get back on the trail, but quickly caught back up with me. Although he surely could have passed me, he seemed content to relax in third place. He probably noticed that I was keeping contact with Nick, but not getting close enough to encourage an increase in the pace. At this point, the day was definitely warming up, and both Dave and I had suffered bad experiences on hot days at Nipmuck.

It’s always when you are relaxing. I was trying to put it on autopilot to conserve some energy for the last hour of the race, and I fell, hard. I caught the toe of one shoe on a rock, and didn’t even have time to get my arms out in front of me. To make matters worse, I ended up finding a nice pile of rocks to land on. The damage consisted of deep scrapes on my right arm and rib cage, and a bruised quadriceps.

Now, a lot of trail runners fall quite frequently. I don’t happen to be one of those people. I can remember the first time I feel on trails; it was three years after starting to run trails, and was caused by a low-lying strand of barbed wire. I was not only shocked at falling, but it was probably my worst fall in 15 years of trail running. I’ve never had to drop out of a race due to a fall, but suddenly I had to consider this strange notion. The scrapes were fine, I could deal with that. However, my leg was really sore, and I had more than 90 minutes of running on treacherous, hilly terrain. If I had to pull out of the race at the second turn around, it would probably be hours until I would be able to be driven back to the finish. Most importantly, I might be doing permanent damage to my leg.

I decided to give it a shot, and although it took awhile, my quad began to feel better. The downhills were always painful, but the flats and uphills were manageable. I was pretty astounded to catch up to Dave and Nick after 15 minutes of limping. They were taking there time at an aid station, making sure to drink enough. Dave bolted away first, still looking quite fresh. Nick seemed to be struggling, and I passed him soon after the aid station. He was having problems on the technical sections, but was still very strong on the uphills. By the time we hit the second turn around, I had about 20 seconds on him.

The 16 inch high stairs leading back from the turn around aid station sent sharp pains up my leg, which didn’t help my speed over the last miles of the course. Dave had passed me well before the turn around, so it seemed he was headed for the win, but I still wanted to salvage second place. I was getting used to the stinging of sweat in my wounds, and my leg was feeling marginally better over miles 18-25. However, by the last mile, my quad wanted to quit on me. I backed off even more on the downhills, and hoped that Nick wasn’t getting a second wind (an unlikely occurrence at Nipmuck). The long last 1.4 miles was longer than usual, but I managed to stay about two minutes ahead of Nick. I stumbled out of the woods and pretty much directly to the EMT, who did a great job of cleaning up my scrapes. I got a pretty bad infection at 7 Sisters one year from a cut hand, and didn’t want to deal with that again.

Dave won in about 3:21, nine minutes ahead of my battered carcass. After congratulating Dave on his strong run on a hot day, and his marathon the weekend before, I eased myself into my car for the drive home. Standard transmission. This is going to be a bit painful. With my shirt sticking to my chest wound, I wondered if I should have just dropped out. In hindsight, I luckily did not do any permanent damage, so I think I choose wisely. The fact is, I doubt I would have beaten Dave even without the fall. It would have been a closer race, though. Falling down on the trails……..I think I need my inner ear checked out.

Merrimack River 2006

2006-04-10T22:18:00.000-07:00

Merrimack River 10m Trail Race 2006

Merrimack is the type of trail race that does not always get the respect it deserves. Trail races in New England are likely to become well-known for their rugged nature, and most people don’t think of Merrimack as rugged. However, if you come back enough times, you’ll see just about everything. While most of the race is extremely runable, the short, steep power line hills in the middle miles never cease to elicit colorful commentary after the race. For those unfamiliar with the course, it consists of three fast and mostly flat miles along the river and two miles with some short, steep hills. You hit five miles, turn around, and run right back at all the people you beat to the turnaround; and it’s all tight single track.

When I first moved to the Boston area to go to school, Merrimack was one of the first trail races I did. It’s also one of the races that been on my schedule every single year. With it being so early in the year (some years later than others due to piles of snow), it’s always a good test of fitness after snowshoe season. Before I get to the historic 2006 race, I’d like to initiate my case for the importance of this overlooked gem of New England trail running with a few personal historical anecdotes.

As I mentioned previously, on average, Merrimack can be almost be described as a road race on dirt. Perhaps the greatest divergence from this comment occurred in 2001. That winter we had a great deal of snow, and the river was very, very high. Most directors would have called the race off, but not Steve Peterson and Dave Dunham. They decided to go for it, and it ended up being far from the typical Merrimack experience. In addition to several areas of sloppy, slippery mud that was unavoidable due to the narrowness of the trail, two extended sections were underwater. I’m not talking deep puddles, I’m talking the river overflowing its banking and drowning the trail for 100 meters in waist deep water that was barely warm enough to be in liquid form. We hit the worst area around 2.5 miles into the race, and it took me a full minute of hard running to warm my legs up to point where I could feel them. You know how when you run into the ocean, you eventually fall when the water gets to mid-thigh depth? Although I managed to stay upright, many runners were fully submerged by the time they realized how deep the water was. I ended up winning by about 4 minutes, and my time had nothing to do with trying to run a fast time; I was just trying to warm up!

In 2005, the course was in pretty good shape, with the exception of one very bad turn. In one particularly shaded section, a large patch of ice was hanging on into the spring warmth. To make matters worse, it was covered by a thin layer of mud. About a third of the field ended up going down on that icy turn, none harder than the winner, Paul Low. Paul is quite skilled on the trail, and rarely goes down. In 2005, he went down so hard he thought he broke his arm. This is a perfect example of how even though the course is not technical; the speed you can attain can turn a minor stumble into a major crash.

My third anecdote doesn’t involve a specific race; it concerns the competitive nature of the field year after year. This aspect of the race is especially relevant to my own experience. Merrimack was one of the first races that forced me to come to the realization that I was meant to be a trail runner. In 2000, I ran 58:31 to beat Dave Dunham by three seconds. At that point, Dave was running about 50 minutes for 10 miles on the roads, and my PR was 56:30. You can say Dave is not a trail runner, but he is the only runner to break 57 minutes twice at Merrimack. The next year, I managed to hold off Richard Bolt by 20 seconds, who also crushes me on the roads by several minutes. When Paul Low started winning the race in 2003, I was second to his 57:32 by 10 seconds. In his four wins, no else has been within a minute of him at the finish. While Paul is doing his best to win Merrimack by a mile, overall, there are still many close races throughout the field.

This was certainly the case for myself in 2006. After the hectic dash into the woods, I settled into 4^th place behind Paul, Kevin Tilton, and Greg Hammett. All three in front of me had beaten me at Snowshoe Nationals, and although Paul and Kevin seemed to be at a higher fitness level, I was hoping to move up to third and join my CMS teammates as the race progressed. Paul and Kevin moved away from Greg and I, and the two groups passed the mile in about 5:05 and 5:10. This is conservative for furious first mile of this course, but I was in no hurry to push the pace. Greg seemed to moving well, and I was content to follow for a while. Nothing much happened until the 4^th mile. Paul proceeded to crank up the pace over the hand-over-foot steep power line hills, and Greg seemed to struggle a bit. Paul put distance on Kevin, and I ended up passing Greg to reach the turnaround in about 29:40. I was later told that it took Paul only 12 minutes to run miles 4-6. In comparison, Greg and I ran about 14 minutes for that section.

Greg was right behind me keeping the pace honest as we made our way through the 190 people in back of us. I managed to steer clear of collisions, but he was on the receiving end of a solid shoulder check. At just past 7 miles, he mentioned that Kevin was fading. We hadn’t seen Kevin since 5 miles, and it was easy to see we were gaining ground every minute. Just past 8 miles, Greg passed me and went for Kevin. I didn’t feel strong enough to stay with him, but I tried to minimize the gap. Kevin seemed to pick up the pace when Greg appeared on his shoulder, and it seemed as though I was out of the race for 2^nd and 3^rd. By the time we got to 9 miles, it seemed as though a gap had opened up between Kevin and Greg. At first I thought Kevin had accelerated, but soon realized that Greg was struggling. Although he still had about 10 seconds on me, I thought I had a chance at catching him before the finish. I was practically hyperventilating the entire last mile, and pulled to within a few seconds of Greg at the final turn, but he saw how close I was and blasted away to finish a few seconds behind Kevin.

All four of us ran under an hour, with Paul breaking Dave Dunham’s old course record from 1999 by 12 seconds with a 56:30. Kevin ran 59:35, Greg 59:30 and I came in at 59:44. It was interesting to note that 4 out of the top five were wearing the exact same pair of Inov-8 Mudroc 280’s, even though we are all from different parts of New England. There were plenty of other close races throughout the rest of the field of almost 200 runners, including a 2 second gap between Steve Peterson and Dave Dunham. Merrimack River is no 7 Sisters, but 7 Sisters is no Merrimack River. Long live the Rivah!

Ben

8 TUFF MILES

2006-03-01T22:05:00.000-08:00

8 TUFF MILES, St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands 2/25/06

The first thing you need to know about the 8 Tuff Miles race is what the course looks like (see elevation profile at 8tuffmiles.com, and note that each line represents 200 feet). The second thing you need to know is that the Caribbean is a warm place. As everyone in NE learned in the summer of 2005, hills and heat are not a healthy mix. Fortunately, the race starts at 7:15 a.m., which is still warm, but considerably better than a noon start at Boston on a hot spring day.

Although I was down in the islands primarily on vacation, this race is quite a big deal on St. John (population 3,000), and some friends of ours had been spreading rumors about how I was going to win the race. When I researched the past results, it was obvious that the two-time defending champ, Jeremy Zuber was a solid runner. I’ve run a few hilly races, and when I saw he had averaged under 6:00 pace for 8.4 miles with 1400 ft of climb in the first 5.5 miles, I figured Jeremy was quite talented.

I arrived in St. John a week before the race, so I had plenty of time to check out the course. My cousins, Tim and Heidi Coyle, who own THE pharmacy on the island, actually live about 200 meters off centerline road, which traverses the entire island. While I was intimidated by the hills during my early training runs on the course, after I adjusted to the heat and the undulating roads, I figured I might be able to run close to 6:00 pace. After running sections of the first five miles of the race hard early in the week, I wrote down some predicted splits and a final time of 50:50. This was at least 45 seconds slower than Jeremy’s winning times, so I knew I would need some help from Jeremy to pull off the upset.

On race day, we were greeted with a nice, relatively cool morning. Among the 627 runners on the start line in addition to me were my cousin’s sons, Ian and Alex (11 and 12 years old, respectively), along with Steph and my Heidi. While I was anxious about racing for the win, Steph was worried about a troublesome hamstring, and Heidi was racing for the first time since her second knee surgery.
As the race started, I quickly worked my way into second place, but left a few steps between Jeremy and myself. I didn’t want him to thing I was pushing the pace this early in the race. As the race started to climb the major hills in the first mile, I was able to maintain the small gap between us. Our first mile was about 6:10. Although the first second miles look similar on the elevation map, the second mile feels much tougher. I ran this mile in 7:10, with Jeremy about 10 seconds ahead. Jeremy took advantage of the downhills in the third mile, and I had to work to keep him in range.

The fourth mile is the toughest of the 8.4 tough miles. Jeremy pushed the pace up the steep winding road, and I couldn’t risk increasing my pace that early in the race. I had never run the whole course, and wanted to make sure my legs were still functional on the last 2.9 flying downhill miles. By the time we reached the end of the climbing at 5.5 miles, Jeremy had about 45 seconds on me. It took me a little while to get my legs rolling on the steep downhill, and was disappointed with my split time of 5:20 from mile 6 to 7. My splits from 4-6 were 7:20 and 6:00. In spite of the rapidly increasing temperature, I tried to make up for lost time in the last 1.4 miles. Mile 7-8 passed in about 5:00, which made me realize I had a shot at running under 51 minutes. This realization resulted in pure agony for the end of the race. As you can see on the elevation map, you lose the advantage of the downhill during this section, and there is almost a bit of a hill right before the finish. I had to hammer all the way through the finish to creep under 51 with a 50:56. As far as I can tell, only three runners have run under 51 minutes. Jeremy, fueled by rumors that I was a serious contender, broke his old course record, running 49:20. He put about 45 seconds on me over the last 2.9 miles. Obviously, snowshoeing is not helping my leg speed!

Immediately upon finishing, I was interviewed by three print reporters and one TV reporter. It was really great to see such local interest in the event. As soon as I could, I made my way back up the course to cheer for Steph. She came screaming down the last hill in back of a group of women, and I was surprised to see her so early. In spite of her pledge to “just run it” it looked a whole lot like she was racing to me. She finished strong, and was soon followed by Alex, Heidi, and Ian. Alex had the race of the day, beating his previous time by 26 minutes! Ah, how I miss those days of knocking minutes off my bests! For his efforts, Alex was awarded a $500 scholarship for winning his age group.

All in all, it was a pretty good day for the Coyle and Nephew families, even though I didn’t live up to the pre-race rumors. Oh well, it gives me an excuse to return next year to give it another shot. Yes, it is 8 Tuff Miles, but it’s in St. John, which makes it well worth the effort.

My first 50 Mile

2005-11-21T21:50:00.000-08:00

JFK 50 Mile 2005

I have never felt so overwhelmed trying to write a race story. Fifty miles is a long way, even if there isn’t much real racing that goes on. My first 50 mile had more passing than most of my Grand Prix road races. Before I get to all the racing, though, I should put the race in perspective.

Although I had good intentions of getting in ever longer runs in preparation for this race, I ended up spending more time working on our new house. With a typical trail or road race, this might not be too detrimental for me. The rest would probably do me some good. However, JFK would be 19 miles longer than I had ever raced. A couple more hard 3 or four hour runs would have helped. In the end, I had to rely on my training and race at the Pisgah 50k in September, and the Cape Cod marathon three weeks before JFK. I was definitely recovered from Cape Cod, but I wasn’t all that confident of my ability to run for over 6 hours.

The key to my race was a fellow competitor, and I knew this several weeks before the race. While I was running the Savoy 20 miler with Leigh Schmitt, he had me informed me of his intention to run JFK. Leigh and I are of very similar abilities in New England trail races, and he had graduated to 50 milers a few years ago. As soon as I knew he was running JFK, I planned on running with him unless it became obvious that I was unprepared for the distance. Based on his strong finish at Savoy where he easily pulled away from me, I thought I might be running by myself beyond 40 miles.

There were several reasons why I chose JFK as my introduction to 50 miles. The course seemed to suit my abilities. It had some trail, and even when it wasn’t singletrack, it was mostly on dirt, and I find soft surfaces much more enjoyable to race on. JFK typically has a deep field which would make it more likely that I would have people to run with. It also is the oldest ultra in the U.S., and many of the best ultra runners over the past several decades have run the race.

I guess I should get to the actual race. My race started at 7am, but I wasn’t the first person on the course. A few hundred people started at 5 am to make sure they finished under the 14 hour time limit. I was shocked at the speed of the start. Two runners went through the mile in about 6 minutes, but most of the other frontrunners came through at least a half minute behind. The first 2.5 miles of the course climb 500 feet, mostly between mile 1 and 2.5. As the road steepened, I gradually drifted to the front of the field as the two frontrunners drifted back. I think by the time we got on the Appalachian Trail at 2.5, Leigh and I were in 4th and 5th.

I thought the pace might slow down on the singletrack, but most of the lead men were quite good on technical trails, at least on level terrain. On one of the first singletrack downhills, people started to change gears, and the better trail guys pulled away. Leigh are I are both reasonably good on singletrack, but neither of us felt the need to take any risks by pushing the pace so early in the race. Ian Torrance dropped the rest of the field at this point. Over the next several miles of rocky trail, there was quite a bit of passing back and forth between the rest of the top seven. Howard Nippert and his running partner would do well on the easier terrain, an ex-rower (I could tell by his long sleeve rowing top) took advantage of all the uphills, and Leigh, Paul Dewitt, and I were somewhere in between. Remember all those 5 am starters? We had to pass most of them on the AT, which takes some effort due to the difficult nature of the footing. Fortunately for me, Leigh did a phenomenal job of clearing the path.

As we got to the first main aid station at 15.5, there were tons of people cheering, and it made it hard to find my handler, Fritz Wells. Fritz is the father of my old teammate, Kit, and was graciously hosting me for the race. I was able to spot him, exchange water bottles, and head off after Leigh, who seemed to be tearing back onto the course. I told myself that I would let him go if he keep this pace up, but it seemed manageable for a little while. I was glad he didn’t slow down, as when we got to the train crossing, the train was only about 200 meters down the track! I was sure no one would make it behind us, but the train actually stopped for a couple minutes soon after we passed. This made it possible for Paul Dewitt, Howard, and his training partner to sneak by. Leigh and I had caught up with Howard on the switchbacks leading out of the AT. As we started down the C and O canal path, we could see the ex-rower, but Ian was out of sight. Leigh thought he was about 2 minutes ahead.

As I started to try and get mile splits off the markers along the canal, Leigh told me that he heard that they were not that accurate. After two splits of 6:30 and 7:30, this became obvious, and we only used them as a rough gauge of pace from time to time. During the first few miles on the canal, we were passed by Paul, Howard, and his training partner. By 20 miles, were firmly in 6th and 7th. However, the ex-rower seemed to be fading, and before long, we passed him and could suddenly see Paul closing on Ian. Howard and his friend were out of sight. We passed the ex-rower and went after Ian. As we closed on Ian, he stopped on the side of the trail to take care of some business. All of a sudden, we were in 4th and 5th.

At every main aid station, Fritz was right there with my bag full of sweetened ice tea, coke, Swedish fish, first aid supplies, as well as extra clothing and shoes. The thing is, the only thing I ever did was switch water bottles. I knew that I would need a ton of calories to stay upright and running for over 6 hours, but I couldn’t make myself eat on the run. I just wasn’t hungry. I was drinking lots of sugary beverages, but was still extremely concerned that I was going to run out of gas somewhere beyond 31 miles. When Leigh would stop to load up with supplies, I would actually just wait for him to continue.

When we hit the aid station somewhere around 27 miles, they informed us that we were in 3rd and 4th. I had postulated that Howard's friend might drop out at some point, and that is what had happened. We also learned that Howard was 10 minutes ahead, which did not surprise me at all. Leigh and I simply continued on at the same pace, or at least what felt like the same pace. By this time he was ready to get off the monotonous canal path, but I didn’t mind it quite as much. I knew my legs would not like 8 miles of paved rolling hills after 42 miles.

Somewhere around 34 miles we saw Paul Dewitt off in the distance. The pace probably quickened for a bit following this, and as we approached, he started walking. I had heard him twist his ankle on the AT a couple times, and now it was really starting to bother him. We wished each other good luck as we passed. The satisfaction of moving into 2nd and 3rd place was short-lived however. Within a couple of miles, I spotted Ian coming back on us. Leigh and I would have been content to run the rest of the race together, but now it became more competitive.

At the aid station at about 38.4 miles, I couldn’t wait for Leigh with Ian closing in on us. I still felt fine energy-wise, and Leigh was grabbing some food. After filling my water bottle with Pepsi, I took off. I picked up the pace a little, and it felt easy. I quickly had a decent gap on Ian, who was pulling away from Leigh. A local journalist rode up on a bike to tell me I wasn’t supposed to be in second and congratulated me on a good run so far. He asked my name, and I just said, “Ben.” Ian couldn’t seem to close the gap, and as climbed onto the final road section at 41.7, I started to pull away a little more on the uphill. Unfortunately, this only lasted until 43 miles. The incessant undulations on the pavement were ruining my legs. My energy level was fine, but my quads were shooting pains straight through my skull. I would have given anything to get back on that canal path. Ian passed me around 44.5, but I managed to pass him back at the aid station at 45 miles and hold him off for a couple of minutes. The only thing I could hope for is that he cramped. It was not to be. He expressed his displeasure of the road as he went by, but looked very strong.

Those last five miles were almost unbearable. I have never been in so much pain while racing. I guess I could have backed off, but I wanted to try and hold off Leigh, and then try and stay as close as possible when he moved into third. I tried to get off the pavement, but the side of the road went off into a ditch. I was gritting my teeth so hard, I thought they were going to splinter, and odd, guttural sounds were emanating from my mouth. I just wanted to fall off the road into the grass and curl up into the fetal position. The worst thing about it was that I wasn’t absolutely exhausted, it was just that my legs couldn’t take it any more. Looking back, it is easy to say that I should have been a bit more patient in the last 10 miles, but I’m pretty sure I would had a slower time if I had not taken advantage of those last 3 miles on the canal path. Of course, the real key was trusting in Leigh’s experience and not pushing the pace too soon. My project for next year is to get them to drop the road section at the end. It shouldn’t be too hard, the race has only been held for the past 43 years.

I have to thank Susan and Kit Wells for making it possible for me to run 50 miles without eating anything during the race due to their superb pre-race fueling, and Dave Dunham on detailed advice from his second place run in 2001.

THE 43TH ANNUAL JOHN F. KENNEDY
50 MILE RACE
Hagerstown, Md November 19, 2005 5 & 7:00 A.M.

Place Name Ag S Div/Tot City Sta Time Pace
===== =================== == = ======== ================== === ======= =====
1 HOWARD NIPPERT 40 M 1/235 FORK UNION VA 5:51:28 7:01
2 IAN TORRENCE 33 M 1/166 BOULDER CITY NV 6:15:11 7:29
3 LEIGH SCHMITT 33 M 2/166 CONWAY MA 6:17:46 7:32
4 BEN NEPHEW 30 M 3/166 MANSFIELD MA 6:18:39 7:33
5 MARK LUNDBLAD 36 M 4/166 ASHEVILLE NC 6:24:36 7:40
6 ANDREW BARTLE 29 M 1/103 SAN DIEGO CA 6:27:06 7:43
7 ANNE LUNDBLAD 39 F 1/62 ASHEVILLE NC 6:29:42 7:46
8 PAUL DEWITT 37 M 5/166 MONUMENT CO 6:31:08 7:48
9 BLAKE BENKE 29 M 2/103 NEW YORK NY 6:34:58 7:53
10 GREIG ARENDT 29 M 3/103 CAMBRIDGE MA 6:35:48 7:54

Polar Beverages

2005-10-31T13:30:00.000-08:00

Polar Beverages
Originally uploaded by gbridgman.

The image above is significantly reduced; the original measures approximately 8 feet x 10 feet and is composed of thousands of images of polar bears, polar beverage logos and of course runners in races throughout New England: Success is in the details.

Thanks to Polar Beverages for the continued support for distance running in general and CMS specifically.

cape cod marathon 2005

2005-10-31T05:50:00.000-08:00

cape cod marathon 002
Originally uploaded by gbridgman.

No surprise that the CMS Men took the 2005 USATFNE Marathon title, no surprise that the Men's Open team will probably be the 2005 USATFNE Grand Prix Champs and the Club the top club.

The surprise was that all the men (except Ben) wore the same singlet.

Your Caption Here

2005-10-04T12:56:00.000-07:00

Ollie's 5 Miler October 2, 2005

2005-10-02T13:06:00.000-07:00

ollie_2005_10
Originally uploaded by gbridgman.

A bright and sunny day in Boston for the 65th running of Ollie's 5 Mile Road Race. This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

The CENTRAL MASS STRIDERS Men's Open Team claimed 4th, but most importantly, two positions behind GLRR which means (by my unofficial tally) they are in 2nd place in the Y-T-D standing behind GLRR and by only 1 point. The scoring 5 guys over the five mile Ollies course:

RICHARD BOLT-25:48
DAN VERRINGTON-26:03
PATRICK RICH-26:13
KEVIN TILTON-26:26
JOE SHAIRS-26:29

Ripped from the Headlines of the Past

2005-08-19T09:47:00.000-07:00

(and discovered by D.Dunham)

Article in Yankee Runner - 1979

Central Mass. Striders

The origins of the Central Mass. Striders can be traced to the late 1950's with the formation of the Wachusett Striders. While the name was eventually changed to the Central Mass. Striders, the club continued for nearly two decades as a small entity comprised primarily of area high school runners. Within the last two years, the composition of the membership has changed dramatically. Runners of all ages and abilities have joined, bringing the number of club members to over 300 at present.

With the rapid growth came an unsettled period during 1978 when the club established ties with a sporting goods concern and expanded its name to reflect this affiliation. (My comment: I believe this was when CMS was known as "Flying Feet Central Mass.") However, a majority of the members found this arrangement to be unsatisfactory and, in December 1978, voted overwhelmingly to return to the time-honored CMS appellation and to revert to an independent status.

During 1978 the club sponsored and/or co-sponsored 20 races in various cities and towns in Worcester County. While terrain and distance certainly varied from race to race, each run shared a common motif in being organized by runners, for runners. With the exception of no entry fee runs, CMS races generally offer a large number of merchandise prizes as well as either ribbons or medals to all finishers. What concerns the club most, however, is that courses be clearly delineated, water stations be provided when weather condition warrant, and times and places of all runners be accurately and quickly posted.

The number of area races will expand to 30 in 1979, encompassing such geographically separated location as Fitchburg, Barre, Hardwick, Worcester, Oxford, and Shrewsbury to name but a few. Aside from two races, which are restricted to club members only, these runs are open to all runners. The club plans to enter a number of teams in selected New England races and hopes to establish several "home-and-home" meets with other running clubs.

A bi-monthly newsletter is sent to all members featuring items of general interest, race schedules and a listing of the times and places of all members who participate in area races.

Mt. Cranmore photos

2005-08-18T07:48:00.000-07:00

For race report and photos courtesy of Dave Dunham & The Conway Daily Sun: http://www.whitemountainmilers.com/cranmorephoto.html

To see Peter Maksimow levitating: http://www.whitemountainmilers.com/cranmore_down/pages/DSC_9918_JPG.htm

Mt. Washington 2005 -The Misplaced Photos. Part II

2005-08-17T11:54:00.000-07:00

Mt. Washington 2005 -The Misplaced Photos. Part I

2005-08-17T11:46:00.000-07:00

Pemi Loop Record Attempt 7/4/05

2005-07-05T20:39:00.000-07:00

31.5 miles, 9000+ feet of elevation gain, 8:14:14

It all started at 8AM from the Lincoln Woods trailhead. I found Sherpa John Lacroix’s car, but no site of anyone looking to run the Pemi. Oh well. I headed of down the Wilderness Trail towards the bonds, a little stiff after my four-hour jaunt up Adams and Madison via King Ravine 2 days prior. After skiing the Wilderness Trail many times this winter with my girlfriend Jess, it seemed to fly by and before I knew it I was at the intersection of the Bondcliff Trail. (34:11)

The Bondcliff Trail can be a steady grind up to the magnificent Bonds when you are by yourself. Some company would have been nice, but I knew I would hit tree line soon enough. On my way up a backcountry ranger was on his way down and asked me “Is someone chasing you or are you doing this for fun?” I definitely got a good laugh out of this and replied I was having fun. I met one couple on their way down from the Guyot Shelter who gave me some encouragement and I wished them luck on the rest of there trip.

I made it to the summit of bond in 1:28 where I met Pam, another trail runner. We chatted for a few minutes about the amazing views from Bond (my favorite mountain so far) and trail running. After getting some pics I headed to Guyot and the Twinway.

The weather was starting to warm up as I approached Guyot and some more hikers. No complaints though after the wet spring and long winter that we had. I chatted with a couple of hikers from Connecticut at the Twinway-Bondcliff Jct. (2:12) and headed over to South Twin. I was a little nervous about the Twinway, as I had never done the section from Guyot over to the Twins. The trail turned out to be very runnable until the last push to South Twin. At the summit (2:38) I stopped for a PowerBar and some pics and a quick 10-minute break. The views from South Twin were very nice. I’m definitely looking forward to hitting the Twins later this summer.

Galehead hut was my next destination. I was hoping to meet SJ’s fiancé Sarah at the hut, but there weren’t many people there. I stopped in the hut thinking that I was about halfway, but learned that I still had about 17 miles to go. Oops! I was feeling pretty good though and still had about a liter of water left. I met up with Sarah and John’s Mom and step dad about a ¼ of a mile from the hut. They were happy to see me and let me know that Al Bernier was running late. That explained why I hadn’t seen him anywhere yet. I headed up the infamous Garfield Ridge Trail, which I found to be quite runnable until the last half mile before the summit. Ugh. Time for some speed hiking. I was starting to feel a little fatigued, but reached the summit in 4:07. I stopped for some more pics and a PowerBar (Chocolate Peanut Butter) and the last of my water. Big oops. While I was eating, Tom Parent came up to the summit and we chatted about the beautiful day and trail racing and running. It was pretty cool to see other trail runners in the Whites.

After heading down from the summit I met up with John. I was glad to see that he had made it that far. He was looking pretty good and we had a quick conversation before heading our separate ways. At this point I knew this might be the last person that I would see that I knew. I started to bonk on my way up the GRT and was very happy to see the scrub on my way up Lafayette. I met up with a hiker at the junction with the Skookumchuck Trail who wanted to know where I had been. This guy was my saving grace. He asked me a lot of questions but it gave me a chance to recover in such a nice place. It was pretty cool to point out all the peaks to him that I had summitted. He was pretty amazed, as was I when I stopped and thought about it.

I finally reached the summit of Lafayette after 5 hours and 38 minutes. It had been about an hour and a half since I last had any water, and I was starting to feel the effects. Thanks to a kind hiker named Mike I was able to rehydrate a little and regain my composure. After meeting Mtn. Magic on the summit of Lafayette and him giving me some encouragement I headed off to finish the ridge. The summit was crowded anyways with between 30-40 people and one glider plane. There was a glider plane right? I wasn’t hallucinating was I?

I knew I still had about 10 miles to go, but knew that the Franconia Ridge was very runnable (I made it from Lafayette to Falling Waters this spring in 24 minutes). I was still bonking though. I could only run on the down hills and power walk the flats. I made it to the summit of Liberty where I met 2 more nice guys who offered me some encouragement and a little more water.

I headed over to Flume, tired, sore, dehydrated, but determined to finish this thing. All I could think about was water, but knowing that I was on a ridge I knew I wouldn’t find any. I stopped at every muddy spot in the trail looking for some type of water. No luck. At this point the trail is pretty flat but I couldn’t run anymore. I finally hit the summit of Flume in 7:17. I knew the Osseo was all down hill from here, and that there was some running water on it at some point. I seemed to find a second wind (or was it the 3rd? or 4th? Or 5th?…) and was able to run most of the way down. I didn’t get to any water until I was almost at the Wilderness Trail. I peeled off and drank straight from the stream. Intestinal parasites sounded better that dying of dehydration at this point.

As I got back on the trail I stumbled upon a bear cub about 10 feet away from me. That scared me considering I didn’t know where the mother was and I had been running for 8 hours already. I hit the Wilderness Trail in 8:05 and high tailed it to the parking lot. As I crossed the suspension bridge the same backcountry ranger that I saw on the Bondcliff Trail was standing there talking to someone (8:14:14). He was glad to see I made it back ok but warned me that I should have had more clothes in case the weather turned bad. I wonder what he would have said if I told him I did the whole thing on 2 liters on water and 2 PowerBars?

Congrats to everyone who finished to loop today. TomPar, looking forward to seeing you at some snowshoe and trail race this year. John, you’re one crazy dude. You went from never running before January to finishing the Pemi Loop pretty damn quick by July. You make me wonder what is possible when you just push yourself. Albee, great job man. You must have been flying. You bagged the extra peaks and still had a pretty fast time. And thanks to everyone out on the trail who offered support and encouragement. I got the feeling from some people before this trip that trail running is looked down upon in the hiking community, but I met a lot of friendly people out there.

Photos: http://community.webshots.com/album/386117980coOYnp

Ben's Mt. Washington and Mt. Greylock 2005

2005-06-19T22:03:00.000-07:00

Mount Washington 2005

In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to write race stories only after races where I run well. If I stayed true to this tendency, I would not be writing a race story for Mt. Washington 2005. The thing is, sometimes it’s more interesting to hear about when things go bad during a race. People say that running a slow time is more difficult than having a great race, and this was very true for my trek up The Mountain this year. I had an idea about writing a race story as a conversation between my mind and my body, and since mountain running represents the greatest struggle between mind and body, I thought it would be a fitting format for Mt. Washington.

Mind (M): Why does everyone think I’m nuts for not wearing a shirt? Don’t they know the specific heat of water, and how effective a wet singlet is at pulling heat out of you?

Body (B): Listen for the cannon, you useless blob of grey matter.

M: I think Paul got caught off guard there, let him by.

B: Where is everyone? We really aren’t running that fast, I’m not even breathing that hard.

M: Sometime a taper actually helps, you know.

B: I assume they are going to pick it up at some point.

M: Simon just looked around and I think him and Paul are taking off.

B: Well it was nice while it lasted; I’ll stick with this pace.

M: Sounds like a good idea. There goes Carpenter and Blake. They let Paul and Simon get a bit of a lead, but it’s still early. Don’t push to stay with Kevin and Peter; we can pick it up after halfway if things feel good. About 6:30 at 0.9 miles.

B: That’s about right, but the quads are hurting. I shouldn’t be losing this much ground to those guys. I thought this was going to be a good day…

M: Just run your own race. Hopefully this is just a bad patch, or they are going out too fast. This feels steeper than it should. Nice horse sounds, Dan. The outside observer would thing you are giving me a hard time, but I’m sure you can see I’m struggling and are trying to get me going.

B: I can hang with Dan, I’m feeling better.

M: Doesn’t look that way from up here. What’s going in with your legs? This is hurting too much this early in the race.

B: You’re right; I’m going to end up walking if I keep this up.

M: We should be able to do this. 9 minutes for the second mile is not good. Great, there go Anna and Melissa, try to hang with them, I think this is close to our pace.

B: Left right left right left right….

M: They are pulling away, get back up with them.

B: The steep sections are killing me, this is all I have today.

M: There goes Dunham, this is not good. I hope this at least means he is having a good race. With the women dueling like that, I’m sure they are on 1:10 pace or better. Only Dave could run a 1:10 with the training he’s been doing. Freak.

B: It still be a short walk down, this isn’t going to be pretty.

M: I’ve heard enough from you, take your beating like a man, you useless pile of mitochondria!

B: Ok, I’ll try to hang on to Dave. I’m feeling a bit better, halfway in 34:00 is not good, but this flatter stretch is helping.

M: Reel him in.

B: I can hardly lift my legs on these steep grades, what is going on?

M: Just keep Dave in sight, and keep running.

B: Maybe we would both feel better if we walked a bit.

M: If you start walking, I’ll jump out of your skull and crawl on my cerebellum!

B: Fine, go for it.

M: You can take this, just keep your stride short and find your rhythm.

B: I can’t believe how slow I am going; walking might be faster at this point.

M: No surprise seeing Sean Livingston go by, he always does well in the second half, but Tim? When is the last time you’ve been beaten by Dave Herr? None of these guys beat us last year, and the training has been going well lately. I thought you were in shape for a 1:06 -1:07? That’s what I was ready to run.

B: Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you just have to keep me going uphill, I really want to stop.

M: I’ll keep trying to get you to pick up the pace whenever you feel a bit better; maybe we can salvage a 1:10.

B: I hate this 4.5 to 5.5 mile stretch. Get me off this devil machine!

M: Just make it that corner, it doesn’t go on forever.

B: Could have fooled me.

M: I really hope those women are on 1:08 pace.

B: If that were the case, this should feel like 1:09 pace. We both know that is a lie. Even the lungs are getting exhausted at this point. If I breathe any faster, I’m going to hyperventilate.

M: We both know this race is about suffering from bottom to top. Remember how the quads fail at end of 7 Sisters, Blackhead in the Escarpment, cranking the treadmill down to 7:30 pace after an hour at 12.5% grade, the main ski slope at Blue Hills? We’ve been there, we can take this.

B: That ski slope sure is nasty. Why do I feel so bad while going this slow?

M: There’s no point in worrying about that now, we need to focus on making the best out of what we have today…

B: I’m sorry I’m letting you down.

M: I’d be upset if you were holding back, but that’s not the case. Let’s go get Dave.

B: Maybe my mileage will pay off in this last 1.6m.

M: You’re going to have to work hard to catch Dave. Things can’t get much worse, it’s worth a shot.
B: That last quarter mile went well, but now I feel like I’m going to fall over.

M: It would just be nice to be running somewhere near Dan or Greg. It’s a perfect day for mountain running, barely any wind at all. I figured that a bad day would be last year’s 1:09 in the 50 mph winds. This is a disaster. This mountain is killing me.

B: In case you haven’t noticed, I’m running out of steam.

M: You’ll make it, we’ve been through worse. You can suck it up for a mile more.

B: Ok, I’ll give it one more shot at going after Dave at mile 7. Great, the calves are starting to go now.

M: What the heck are flooding me with?

B: 100% pure Mt. Washington lactic acid. You asked for it.

M: Ohhhhh, that burns the grey matter!

B: Mile 7, here we go!

M: Must ….override…..muscle failure….

B: %$@#%$#&^$^$

M: Keep…..running……

B: For the LOVE of GOD, make the bad man STOP!!!!!

M: Must….ignore….body…….

B: Too steep….can’t go on…

M: Left…right……left………..right……

B: Can’t run straight…..left leg not functional….

M: Straight for the finish…..stay on the mountain……

B (more of a corpse than at this point): STOP NOW!!!

M: That was awful…..need oxygen.

B: I can’t move.

M: I hope no one is behind us, I can’t even think straight.

B: OK, let’s crawl out of the chute.

M: There’s Dave heading to the top. I don’t deserve to climb up.

B: I’m sorry I failed you.

M: We did our best, sometimes it is just less than we expect. It just wasn’t our day.

I would like to thank the CMS team for a great time on Friday before the
race. Mt. Washington is more than a race, it’s an experience. Although my race
didn’t go as well as I would have liked, I still enjoyed my trip up north. It was awesome seeing so many CMS men have incredible races. Hopefully next year, we can contribute a winner that is more local. Blake and Low had a good run at the front, and it sounds like Paul fought through a bit of a rough patch in the second half of the race. It is great to see Eric, Dan, and Dave running so well, Dave especially. Hopefully we can get another ten years out of them before putting them out to pasture, or to the stud farm, perhaps. In addition to Blake, Kevin and Peter represent the young guns at the Mountain, and next year should be interesting. Kevin probably knows this, but his father is extremely proud of him, and rightfully so. I know this because I rode down the mountain with Mr. Tilton. It’s a nice thing to see, especially the day before Father’s Day. Rich has been a team stalwart all spring, and it’s amazing to think that he didn’t even score for the team with a 1:07. I guess I should just be happy that I wasn’t passed by Petey and Woody, as they battled all the way up the hill. Congratulations to all on their races, it was quite an impressive team performance.

Greylock 2005

My poor performance at Mt. Washington made me second guess my decision to run up and down the highest mountain in Massachusetts. I finally decided to give it a shot, and drove down to Adams to camp out. Before I called it a night, I read an account of Lance Armstrong’s 2004 Tour de France win. He was beaten badly in stage 12, but came back the next day to crush his rivals in stage 13. It made for a good story.

I lined up against two formidable foes the next morning exactly 24 hours after starting up Mt. Washington. Elijah Barret and Greg Hammett had beaten me to top of Mt. Monadnock a few weeks ago, on that day I was relatively fresh. I got a good start and lead into the first overgrown singletrack trail with my competitors right on my shoulder. As soon as we got to a carriage road, they soon passed me and began to pull away. I hung on as best I could, and after a couple minutes Elijah began to slow. I passed him and went after Greg, who was a few seconds ahead. Greg ran strong for a while, but slowed on an uphill hairpin turn, and I eased back into the lead. He stuck with me for a while, then began to slip back after about 15 minutes of running. The trail, which climbs 2400 ft to the 3500 ft top of Mt. Greylock in about 3 miles, got quite steep in the middle, and there was a lot hiking involved. I kept the pressure on in an attempt to get a lead before the 11 mile downhill to the finish. I was impressed with Elijah and Greg’s downhill running at the Monadnock race, and was worried about being able to stay with them on the extremely fast downhills.

Greg managed to keep me in his sights on the way down until he lost his shoe in a mud hole. He got it back on quickly and only lost about 20 seconds. I ran the downhills as fast as I could and added another 10-20 seconds on to my lead over the next couple miles. However, there were some confusing markings at one intersection, and I ended up going down the wrong trail and losing my entire lead. We figured out where to go, and I passed him once again and put the pressure on. Greg was right on my shoulder for the next 1.5 miles. Everyone 1-2 minutes, it seemed like he was about to pass me, but never got by, even though we were on a wide open carriage road. I gained a few steps on some tight downhill hairpin turns (thanks to my Inov-8's, which kept me upright the entire race), and when the course turned onto singletrack, I threw myself down the tight, twisting trail. This late race charge over the last two miles gave me a 1 minute win over Greg, with Elijah another 7 minutes back. Although typically second place would not be all that bad, it usually takes several wins to capture the overall title for the Grand Tree trail racing series, and I will probably need this Greylock win with Greg running so well.

The two races back to back was pretty tough, but if you are only as good as your last race, I don't have to worry about my poor performance at Mt. Washington any longer.

SURVIVOR MONADNOCK

2005-05-07T13:47:00.000-07:00

Let me start by saying that I have never done a trail race anything like the Monadnock 12k. It was advertised as the most difficult trail race in New England, which is quite the claim given races such as the 7 Sisters and the Pisgah 50k. After running the Monadnock race, it may not be most difficult, but I am absolutely positive it is the most dangerous.

On race morning, I was excited to be driving to new race that was east of 91. The description of an up to the summit and back down 12k race on hiking trails definitely got my interest. The 2000ft of vertical on the ascent was sure to make it tough race, and the rain that started on Friday night before the race wasn't going to make it any easier. I got to the start with plenty of time to check out the course. I needed to figure out which of my four Inov-8 shoes I wanted to run in. I started to run up the mountain in my Flyrocs, and at first look, the trail seemed very runable. That lasted for about a kilometer, then the race turned right and the footing got much rougher, with thick roots, sharp rocks, and some mud. I ended up going about 1.5 miles up the course, and tested out some surprisingly technical sections higher up on the mountain. I was comfortable with the Flyrocs, and headed back down to the start.

Prior to the start, I asked Elijah Barret about the upper sections of course. He is from the area, and is pretty familiar with the Monadnock trails. He also won the race last year. Elijah mentioned that the organizers were debating turning the runners around before the top, as it was snowing and pretty windy up there. The decision was made to run the whole course and we off up the mountain.

I took the lead from the start, and Elijah and Greg Hammett followed close behind. At times a would get a bit of lead, but it was never more than a few seconds. I soon realized that the footing was so consistently technical that you couldn't run all out. You were constantly picking out your foot placements, and sections of some ground were few and far between. There was a considerable amount of hand-over-foot climbing, and it was obvious the descent would involve considerable danger if you were trying to run fast.

While the race was in the trees, the trail was easy to follow. As the trees thinned, it was hard to see the yellow dots on the rocks or the small cairns. At one point, I headed off trail, and Elijah and Greg passed me as they called me back on course. Elijah started to push the pace, and Greg let me by so I could chase him. Greg stuck with me as we caught back up with Elijah, but it was obvious that he knew the trails very well. Soon after this, my wedding band flew off my finger as I swung from a tree. Greg was quick to spot it and handed it back to me. We lost contact with Elijah as a result of this. As we reached the exposed summit section, it became increasingly difficult to spot the trail and even though Elijah wasn't that far ahead, the terrain was very uneven, and visibility was getting bad. It had been snowing since we reached the upper sections of the mountain, and the wind was getting stronger with every vertical foot.

Unlike other New England mountains, Monadnock has an expansive exposed section due to a forest fire. Unlike a typical mountain, where you go steadily uphill to the summit, the Monadnock ridge has several small ascents and descents on the way to the top. We were above the tree line for about 10 minutes. I couldn't believe how bad the weather was on March 7th at only 3000ft above sea level. It was weather I would expect on Mt. Washington, which was 2 hours north and 3000ft higher. It was snowing quite hard, and the wind was a steady 40-50 mph. Greg and I helped each other find the cairns and stay on trail, which was becoming increasingly difficult. We had to yell to hear each other above the wind.

I then spotted Elijah on his down, so I knew we were close to the summit. We reached a high point, but there were other similar elevations in the distance, so we were unsure if we had reached the top. We asked a hiker if this was the top, but he couldn't hear us. At this point, the wind must have been about 60mph, and a gust knocked me right over. I could have started down after Elijah, but I wasn't too confident I would be able to find the trail by myself, so I waited for Greg to put a jacket on. At that point the race was over for me, and I just wanted Greg and I to get back down in one piece. I instantly came to the realization that if someone got lost or hurt in these conditions, they would be in grave danger in a matter of minutes. My hands went numb in the minute it took Greg to get his jacket on. I have never been so concerned for my own survival during a trail race, nothing comes even close.

We quickly headed down in the direction we thought the trail went, but soon were off trail, we spotted our hiker friend, who did a great job of keeping us on the course as the wind blew us around. The wind was so strong, by eyelids turned inside out a couple of times, and my left eye was stinging badly from the wind-driven snow. About 400 meters from the summit, we ran into the fourth place runner, and advised him to go down. He decided to go anyway, and I was a bit shocked. I later found out that he was familiar with the trails, but it still seemed a little crazy to me. There was no one left on summit, and if had gotten injured, it would have been bad.

When we finally made it to a more protected side of the mountain, Greg and I ran into Ed Alibozek, who told us that they had turned around the rest of the runners early, but must had missed the first four racers. The rest of the way down was relatively uneventful, but even running conservatively, the trail was still dangerous. Elijah had no idea we had backed off, and flew down the mountain thinking we were right behind. Due to his familiarity with the trails, he was really never concerned about his safety, in stark contrast to many others in the race.

I still can't believe how crazy it was at the summit. The 2005 Monadnock 12k is likely to be remembered by all who dared to run it for a very, very, long time. Next year, if it is raining on race day, I may think twice about getting in the car to head to the race. One epic Monadnock experience is enough for me.

Still defrosting,

Ben

7 Sisters 2005

2005-05-02T22:39:00.000-07:00

7 Sisters 2005

This is always a tough race, even when you are in shape. For this year’s race, I was a bit more concerned than usual. My training in the second half of the winter was quite dismal. On top a busy work schedule, I got sick a couple of times, had some minor surgery, and my workout planning was poor. I really haven’t had such low mileage since being injured in college several years ago. Considering that I tend to sustain a consistent workload throughout the year, I don’t have much experience with coming back from a break in training. I discovered my starting point at the New Bedford half marathon, where I ran about two minutes slower than last year, and had a very painful recovery due to the attempt at running above my fitness level. It could have been worse, but it takes me a while to get in shape even without a gap in my training, so I knew had some work ahead of me. 7 Sisters is early in the trail season, and it’s the type of race that amplifies any weakness in your training. Although it seemed that I was getting lucky with Paul Low(3 time defending champ) being in Japan, it just added the pressure that I should win since Paul wasn’t there. I was the last non-Paul winner, and have been second (a distant second) during each of his wins.

That’s where I was prior to the start. The weather added an additional X factor with a very wet course. Paul and I had actually recently debated what was worse, a wet 7 Sisters or a warm 7 Sisters. I have the run the trail with a bit of both, and preferred the slippery wet course to the heat that baked your brain on the relentless hills. He would rather take the heat. Maybe the 7 Sisters knew that Paul would miss the race, and decided to grant me my condition of choice. I’d rather have the trail bone dry and cool, but that was not going to happen. Although it was supposed to clear up on race after two days of rain, it started to rain as we lined up for the start.

The field was quite strong even without Paul. Leigh and Keith Schmitt are both former multiple race winners, Greg Colburn has been running very well in the New England Mountain series races, and Judson Cake has run a low 2:30 marathon and regularly beats me in XC. I took the lead up the first 300ft climb and several people latched on. In addition to the usual suspects, we had my old GBTC teammate Bryan Graham and his Harvard colleague, John. My race plan was to take it relatively easy the first half of the race, and see how I felt after that. As it started to rain harder, there really wasn’t any other option. You couldn’t run the uphills too hard due to slipping on the mud, and the too much speed on the downhills was a high risk endeavor with greasy rocks.

On the third or fourth hill, Leigh passed me for the lead, with several cheers of, “Go Leigh” from all his fans a few seconds behind us. I couldn’t really see who was back there, but we must have still had about 10 people close to the lead after running for 15-20 minutes, which is uncommon for a course that tends to separate people early on. After a short pause, there were a couple of “Go Ben” shouts out of pity. I laughed. The funny thing is, I do about 95% of my running by myself in complete silence, and talk more during races than I ever do in training. From my experience at 7 Sisters, talking is a very good idea during the first half of the race, as it keeps you from going out to hard. Going out a bit too hard at this race leads to exponentially more suffering during the last miles. I don’t get to see my trail running friends that often, so it’s always nice to catch up with everybody at the races. With Leigh, we have most of our long conversations on the trail.

After about 25 minutes of running, Judson, Leigh, and myself separated from the chase pack quite suddenly. No real increase in effort, it just happened. Leigh actually picked up the pace a bit to take try and widen the gap, but we were still running quite comfortably. Judson kept insisting that he was just hanging on as long as he could, but I don’t think either Leigh or I really believed him, as he was easily keeping up the pace and could certainly handle the technical nature of the trail. On a couple of occasions, some random runner from the chase pack would reel us in for a while, and then quickly fade back. I was perplexed by this, as I had never witnessed this behavior in my six years of 7 Sisters. At some point during the first half, I commented that Judson, Leigh, and I could run the course relatively easy until the large hill about 20 minutes before the finish, and then start running hard, and the finish order would be the same as if we had run hard the whole way. Little did I know.

As we began the long descent from the Summit House to the turnaround point, the three of us traded the lead a few times. No one made a real move, but Leigh began to pick up some speed on downhills. I thought we making good time considering the conditions until runners began to catch us. One guy flew by with reckless abandon, and I thought he might have missed the start. He seemed to be extremely fast on the downhill, and out of curiosity I passed Leigh to see if I could stay with him. I caught him pretty quickly, as he backed off his aggressive pace. Heading into the turnaround aid station, there must have been 7-8 runners within a few seconds of the lead. Since it was chilly, I didn’t feel the need for any water, so turned right around and took the lead back up to the Summit House. Before long, Judson and Leigh assembled into formation, and we were pulling away from the field.

At this point in the race, I began to feel good about my chances at winning. I was still comfortable with the effort on one of the harder climbs, and no one seemed interested in passing. Even when I walked the steeper sections, no one made a move. By the time we had crossed the road and gone up another 300ft climb, Leigh was giving Judson a hard time about his “hanging on” story. He was still running very strong, but I noticed that he would lose a couple of steps on some of the tougher uphills. Given the difficulty in making up lost ground at 7 Sisters, no one does that on purpose, so I knew he was starting to fade. I was still not all that confident in my strength in such a long race, so I was trying to be as cautious as possible. Besides the exhausting soggy uphills, the rest of the field had done a number on the downhills, and they were increasing more difficult to safely navigate in the upright position. I think the three of us had several close calls on the way back.

When we reached the low point with about 20 minutes of racing left, Leigh was in the lead. When he neglected to increase the pace on the one flat 400m section of trail, I passed him and began to pull away. I thought that he might be saving up for the Pine Needle Hill, the hill that usually plays a large part in the finish order. This hill hits you with three tiers of hell, and is walked for the most part. It sucks whatever life is left in your quads, and amplifies the smallest differences in fatigue between competitors. For Leigh and I, it was the moment of truth. I ran and walked as hard as I could without totally wasting my legs, and waited for him to pass me. I took a quick look back after a right turn, and saw that I had put several steps on him. At that point, I was quite confident I would win. I’ve been in Leigh’s position, and unless the person in front falls, it is very unlikely that you will catch them. With every uphill, you lose a few steps, and if you try to make up on the downhills, you hurt your uphill performance even more. I think he came to this realization when he yelled, “Ben, you f-----!!” I laughed.

However, I am well aware that Leigh is one of the best downhill runners in New England, so I tried to capitalize on my uphill advantage. At the top of the last uphill, I seemed to have a large lead. Now, I didn’t back off the pace, but I did try and make sure I made it the finish in one piece. This last downhill is by far the most technical section on the course, and by the time you hit it, your legs are Jell-O, and your reaction time about double. On top of this, my wife had expressed grave concern about the condition of the course, as she knows how tough it is even when dry. I still have a large scar on my hand from the year I won the race. I thought I was doing well until I hear the avalanche behind me. What the hell is he doing? He has a one year-old son, his days of recklessly bombing down near vertical descents are behind him! I guess no one told him that. I must have had at least 10 seconds on him before the downhill, but he was reeling me in like I was in slow motion. As the adrenalin flooded my arteries, I threw it into overdrive. You could never get me to run that fast on that section of trail without Leigh chasing me during the 7 Sisters. A fall would most likely have resulted in serious bodily harm. We were running down a 45 degree slope at about 5 minute mile pace over and through wet rocks the size of coffee tables. At times we were probably covering 10-12ft of ground with a single stride, bounding from wet boulder to mud to wet boulder. I knew he might very well pass me, given the ground he had already covered, but he was going to have to work for it. As it was, I hung on to win by about 2 seconds in under 1:54.

Since I’ve only been able to win 7 Sisters twice in 7 attempts, this win means a bit more than some of my other trail races. I think what I enjoyed most was using my 7 years of New England trail running wisdom to finish in one piece with a decent time.

Every second counts

2005-03-20T13:47:00.000-08:00

I just returned home from New Bedford and was excited to see that today's New Bedford Half Marathon results were posted on coolrunning.com, just a few hours since the last finisher crossed the line. I was anxious to see the individual results and more importantly, the men's team results. I sent out an email to the CMS Men's Open Racing Team (MORT) over a month ago trying to encourage everyone to get out and support the New England Grand Prix road race series. I had visions of five guys under 1:12:00. CMS has some very talented athletes with various expertise and focus on running disciplines such as Mountain Running, Trail Running, Ultra Running, Snow Shoe racing, et cetera. As a result, it can be a challenge to field a competitive team at New England Championship road races which kicked off today in the Whaling City.

I am a competitor in a discipline called Road Racing. I don't have any particular strengths to take advantage of in any other specific disciplines such as Trail Racing or Mountain Running. I have had wonderful experiences participating in such events. However, I have a competitive interest toward team competition and want to see my team do well against other teams otherwise known as our competitors.

I suspect I got this competitiveness in college as an athlete on the Salem State Cross Country team. SSC had the ability and talent to compete for the Massachusetts State College Athletic Conference title in each of the four years that I ran on the team. We, as a team, trained hard all summer and obsessed about beating our nemesis, Westfield State College, each fall at the Conference meet. It motivated most us and gave the team a goal to train and strive for every November. The MASCAC conference scores the teams by individual placing of the top five runners on each scoring team. I recall winning the conference once and being a bridesmaid twice by just a few places each time. As a result, we have had our share of ups and downs as a team.

Since college, I have had a deep appreciation for team related running series or seasons. In other words, team competition. Unlike a cross country season that can last three months, our Road Race Grand Prix is spread out over the course of a year, generally starting in March and concluding in October. In addition, USATF-New England has not invested any resources to a Cross Country season or Grand Prix Series in several years with a focus towards team competition. As a result, the New England Road Race Grand Prix series has been nearest and dearest to me personally and replaced what I was so obsessed with in College.

I was so grateful that I could continue to put a singlet on after college, represent a team, and run like hell to try and score for the team. Team scores in our Grand Prix are tabulated by the aggregate time it takes the top five runners of each team, with the exception of the distances between the 30K and Marathon which require three, to run the race. As of this evening, we scored a tie for Second place with the Greater Lowell Road Runners, based on the times of each of our scoring five athletes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
MALE OPEN TEAM Results
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
1. BAA
1:08:06 1:08:46 1:08:47 1:08:47 1:09:13 = 5:43:39
993 TERRY SHEA JR 31, 1247 KEVIN O'NEIL 35, 981 CHRIS MAGILL 32,
957 MATTHEW ELY 29, 962 KEVIN GRAY 27
2. CMS
1:08:58 1:11:32 1:12:02 1:12:54 1:13:00 = 5:58:26
1487 PAUL LOW 31, 267 RICHARD BOLT 34, 266 DAN VERRINGTON 42,
261 JOE SHAIRS 36, 260 SERGIO RIBEIRO 35
2. GREATER LOWELL RR
1:09:26 1:10:17 1:11:48 1:13:20 1:13:35 = 5:58:26
1021 JIM EMORD 23, 1023 LEWIS JONES 27, 1024 GEORGE LUKE 39, 1030
MARK REEDER 45, 1481 DAVID PRASSE 24
4. DIRIGO
1:10:13 1:12:05 1:12:06 1:12:09 1:12:17 = 5:58:50
1236 MICHAEL PAYSON 41, 1276 ETHAN HEMPHILL 32, 1245 JUDSON CAKE 27,
1249 ANDREW SPAULDING 34, 1082 KEELYN WU 37

Complete results

Second place exceeded my expectations for our team today. I don't care about the critics who have excuses why their top five did not represent today or if someone had a bad day at the office. We showed up and gave it our best with those that came and raced us today. I don't care for ties and within team competition, there is no place for it. I am not certain on the rules and if USATF-NE considers a sixth or seventh scoring member if needed in the scoring, but the nod would go to CMS today.

I would like to raise a cup o' chowda to the team today. We had some runners travel a few miles to represent CMS MORT today. In addition, a few sacrifices were made. Paul Low sacrificed racing a 10K yesterday to battle it out for a strong 8th place finish. Ben Newphew raced despite less than 'Nephew like training' and still carries stitches from a surgical procedure last week. I am proud of the effort that we put forth and hope that the CMS MORT team continues to race and be competitive during the remaining New England Grand Prix events. Today's second place finish just goes to show you, every second counts. See you in May for the Bedford Rotary 12K on May 21.

Jim Pawlicki

Northfield 2005

2005-02-10T21:27:00.000-08:00

I always look forward to racing at Northfield. It is simply a great place run any time of the year. Since I wasn't able to help out with marking the course on Friday, I didn't get a chance to see the course. After talking with Paul and Kelli, I was a little worried that my crampons would be too long for the amount of snow on the trails. We will return to this topic later.

The start was quick as usual, and I wasted no time in letting five people by me. By the time we got to the first hill, I moved by two of them and focused on Rich, who was being chased down by an unknown racer. I was working pretty hard at this point, but was determined not to make the same mistake as last year and let people get by me prior the singletrack. I felt good at the start of singletrack hills, but was having a problem maintaining my rythm on the steeper sections. Peter Maksimow seemed to be reeling me in on uphills, but I would put some distance on him on the short downhill sections.

Toward the middle of the climb, Peter asked to get by. I let him lead, and the pace seemed to slacken a bit, which was fine by me. Dan was right behind me, and we seemed to be clear of the rest of the pack. It was quite relaxing to be in a group of three of your teammates and not have to worry about racing as much. Dan must have been feeling good, as he went by me to chase after Peter, who was only a couple of steps ahead. I find it is easier to allow for some room to see where you are going.

We all hit the downhill together, and with all the passing room, the racing started to heat up. There must have been well over a dozen passes between the three of us on the way down. I would take the lead on the steep downhills and tight turns, and then Dan and Peter would pass be back when it flatten out or went uphill. I was surprised to see how much I was struggling on the uphill sections.

My stomach began to tighten towards the end and I wasn't able to take full advantage of the downhills. As a result, Peter built a gap between us, and I was behind both of them going into the last singletrack section. I smiled to myself as I passed Dan on the dirt, my favorite surface. I tried to go after Peter, but he was rolling. It was all I could do to keep Grandpa Dan at bay!

While my first thoughts after the race were that my Dion snowshoes were too heavy and hurt me on the uphills, a little research led to a different conclusion. Although the Dualtrac SL's that Peter and Dan had are somewhat lighter than my Dions, the Dion frames are actually lighter than the Redfeather racing frames, which I always thought of as a lighter shoe. I think it was my big stainless steel crampons that were creating a lot of resistence to climbing. To make matters worse, my foot placement is a bit to far back in the shoe, so my crampons are under my toes. Imagine climbing Mt. Washington with a two inch block of wood under your toes. It makes the calves burn something fierce. I probably would have been better off with the standard Dion crampon instead of my hiking daggers. In the soft snow at Massebesic, they were an advantage, but I think they hurt me at Northfield. I should have talked with Rich, who didn't wear his large crampons due to the thin snow cover. He chose wisely, I chose poorly.

Nephew say: Bigger not always better.

Ben

Doubles are rough

2005-02-08T20:49:00.000-08:00

Massabesic 5k and Sidehiller 4.5m NH Snowshoe Race Reports

Two weeks after getting pummeled by Paul and Rich at Greylock, I was in for more punishment at Rich's Massabesic 5k. I was more excited for Steph, who was back racing after a long layoff due to a hamstring injury. During the drive we both remarked at how bizarre it was to travel north and see less and less snow. The course had just enough snow on mostly singletrack trails.

On the start, I managed to get to the singletrack first, but was soon passed by Paul. I focused on staying with him longer than the Greylock race, and was surprised that no one tried to pass on the snowmobile sections. As the trail turned into the woods, the field began to string out. I saw a couple of yellow Atlas shirts behind me, and assumed the one closest to me was Rich, and the other was Ethan Hemphill. Rich was right behind me, and we slowly pulled away from our pursuers. I could see Paul for a while, but by about 11 minutes into the race he disappeared from sight. When I looked at my watch at that point, I was hoping to see it read 15, not 11.

A few minutes later, I got passed, and suddenly realized it was Ethan, not Rich, who had been on my tail. I was able to keep up after the pass, and when he seemed to slow when we exited the singletrack, I passed him back. Ethan kept the pressure on but was not able to get by. I felt that if I could stay in front until the last snowy section, I should be able to outsprint him with my larger crampons. The problem was, I was killing myself to fight off his passing attempts. As we approached the finished, I started hammering. Dave told me I that I was throwing up an eight foot rooster tail of snow. Unfortunately, I only had about 100 meters of that in me, and I needed 200 meters. As I slowed, Ethan flew by on right, and all I could do was watch. I was absolutely exhausted at the finish. The good news was that I was only about 30 seconds behind Paul, and Rich was a minute behind me. It seemed to be an improvement over the Greylock race. Steph had a great race, but said she felt out of shape. I told her everyone feels like that in snowshoe races. She also thought she had a cut on her lip, as she could taste blood most of the race. I laughed and said that her lip was fine. She had been working so hard she could taste the blood from the capillaries in her gums. I told her I beat Rich, and she said he was probably sandbagging, or hadn't gotten to warmup (I only beat him once all last season).

Sidehiller 4m

Steph was right, Rich blew me away right from the start. I was dead from the day before, and could feel it in my quads as soon as we began to go uphill. In addition to the course being pretty hilly, the snow began to soften, and the soft snow sucked the energy right out of your legs. I ran most of the race by myself, and was able to admire the NH scenery. Although it was a nice warm winter day to be outside, it was a bit too warm for snowshoe racing, and I was soaked in melting snow by the time I finished. Tim Livingston actually ran the race in shorts and a singlet, which must have been pretty chilly. After a bowl of chili at the local cafe, I drove home and passed out on the couch for much of the afternoon.

Ben

Greylock Snowshoe

2005-01-19T20:25:00.000-08:00

Well, my longest hiatus from racing is now over. For those of you who know me, I tend to race early and often. After taking a break from racing since Thanksgiving, I had a rude awakening at the Greylock 3.5m snowshoe race on Saturday. Since the USATF 50k champs in Georgia my training had been inconsistent due to an aggressive work schedule. I had been doing up to 80% of my running in the dark on the trails with the short days. While I tend to run pretty hard all the time, I was a bit nervous about my conditioning going into my first snowshoe race. For me snowshoe racing is the most strenuous type of racing; I like to compare to drowning for a half hour or so.
I got to Adams with plenty of time to get ready for the race, but ended up wasting a lot of time catching up with people I hadn't seen in a while due to my hibernation. The thin, firm snow cover indicated a fast race, but none of us knew what the new course had in store for us. I managed to strap on my shoes and get a decent warmup in just in time for the start.
I was pleased when my instinctual fast start got me into the lead. I wanted to get things strung out and settle into my own pace. About 400 meters into the race, Paul and Rich went by and put some distance on me. As we started to wind uphill, the gaps between us seemed to solidify. I could hear Elijah behind me from time to time, but not enough to cause concern. I tried to focus on keeping Rich in sight.
For some reason, I had thought the race was a 5k, so when we kept climbing after about 10 minutes of tough uphill, I was slightly confused. It got steeper, and I could barely keep running. As I looked upward, I started to realize that Paul had left us. Rich wasted no time in taking off when the course crested and we began our long descent. My hips felt tight, and my legs were dead from the uphill, but I tried to stay in contact with Rich. I began to worry about Eliah's leg speed, as his mile time is about 20 seconds faster than mine. The course was a little thin in parts, and it was odd to break through to mud and see a dirt-covered snowshoe. My lack of racing crept up on me at this point, and I unintentionally slowed down. A few steps from Elijah cured this problem, and I got back on the accelerator.
I ran hard through the finish as Paul was already running back to cheer on Kelli. Everyone else seemed pretty wasted at finish, and when Elijah asking if anyone tasted blood, I replied in the affirmative. While this taste can occur in other running situations, the combination of intense respiratory rate and cold, dry air is very likely to make you feel like your mouth is bleeding after a hard race. It's a good indicator of an honest effort for me. I was impressed when I learned that Paul had beated Rich and I by at least a minute and half. Then again, he was outkicked by Elijah last year (I was stunned as I watched from third), and I am pretty sure that Paul is not a big fan of second place. Either Rich and I are a bit rusty, or it's going to be long snowshoe season of chasing Paul. I guess we could just let him go and pretend he's not even in the race!
On an after-race note, I had some unexpected excitment on the drive home. I went to pass a semi on the right, and he turned into my lane a moment after I started to pass. No sweat, I tapped the brakes, swung left and passed him on the left. It was a quick move, but there were no cars close in back, and I never cut anyone off. Some RAM TOUGH redneck in a huge Dodge Ram truck was perturbed by my driving and flashed his lights at me. I thought nothing of it until he seemed to be trying to ride my bumper. Considering I can probably stop in half the distance compared to his 3 ton truck, I started to work my way through traffic to put some cars between us. He obviously thought his truck was RAM FAST, as he had two useless hood scoops (as oppossed to my functional scoop)and was weaving through traffic like he was driving a Miata. I'd let him get close, and then easily leave him behind with light pressure on the skinny pedal. While I would move into a gap with just enough room for me to enter safely, he would try to fly up and try to squeeze in by cutting people off. The traffic opened up, and I blased away from him for a bit, and then settled down to cruising speed to avoid a ticket. He came flying out of traffic at triple digit speeds and started motioning for me to pull over. He tried to force me off onto the left-hand shoulder, and I laughed as I tapped my brakes and he went flying by. I stomped on the gas and blew by him on the right. His next idea was to force me to the right shoulder. As he tried to get ahead to cut me off, I simply stayed about a half car-length ahead of his rumbling hemi. He was not happy. The best part was that he actually need to get to an exit! He had to slam on his brakes and almost rolled that hemi pig trying to make his exit. So if see a big red Dodge truck with twin hood snouts, stay away, that dude is crazy!

It's a mall world, after all

2005-01-11T15:53:00.000-08:00

Having lived since August in a place that far too many souls call home and almost as many target (inexplicably) as a vacation spot, the sweetie and I -- seeking refuge from the cultural barrenness, overcrowding, boring scenery, and commercial depravity of South Florida -- invigorated ourselves by making a trip to the bucolic, tranquil town of Orlando. It was an all-expenses paid marathon weekend courtesy of the super folks at Florida Running & Triathlon, so being in half-ass shape and the predicted high humidity were not the scowl-evoking factors they ordinarily would have been in such a scenario.

We gained access to the Coronado Springs arm of the Branch Disneyan compound at 4:30 Friday afternoon. I picked up my VIP packet (yes, I agree, that term is used lightly more often than not) in a room at the Coronado that had been turned into a coffeehouse-cum-snack bar; here, in a brush with relative fame, the sweetie literally collided with invited speaker Dan Browne, who was rushing out of the suite and was seemingly very busy every time we laid eyes on him over the weekend.

After collecting the packet, which included several free meal and theme-park tickets, we absorbed ourselves in various German, Spanish, and Japanese television programs, then hopped on the VIP (I know, funny, isn't it?) bus and were borne to the VIP (kind of a joke, really) reception at Epcot. We ate some really good buffet food and watched the large extended Jim Ryun family gradually make off with every spare chair at our table. Congressman Ryun must be the most unassuming former elite runner on Earth. Jeff Galloway, on the other hand, shielding his increasingly shiny pate with a ballcap and thus incognito for a spell to the likes of me, enthusiastically held forth about marathon training for the benefit of everyone who pulled him aside. Meb Keflezighi was also there, matching me decaf-for-decaf as best I could tell. Most of the VIP's (trust me, we weren't) were media types; physical differences aside, you can always easily distinguish these VIP's from the athletes because they're very forward about wearing their VIP badges around and will go to any length to abscond with as much of the available free stuff as humanly possible. I believe this applies to all sports.

Our dinner companions were Darin and Dierdre Shearer. Darin and I were once part of the extended Central Mass Striders family, while Dierdre (formerly bearing the surname Milligan) was an undergrad star for the Big Green during my Dartmouth grad-school days. After injuries knocked him out of the competitive scene during the early part of the decade, Darin came all the way back to reach the finals of the steeplechase at the 2004 Olympic Trials, placing eighth with an 8:26. He'd also run 14:21 for 5K on the roads and a 1:06 half within the past thirteen months, but arrived at the Branch Disneyan compound having logged no more than four miles at a pop over the past four weeks thanks to new injuries, training supplemented by mounds of swimming (he's dabbled seriously in traithlons and is now aiming to make those his main focus). A fireworks display was our post-prandial send-off back to the Coronado.

Sleep was at a premium Friday evening, as we'd have to get up absurdly early Sunday morning for the bus to the 6 a.m. start. We headed to the expo to grab my number at about 9:30 Saturday morning. En route, we saw a figure plowing along the side of the highway at a solid clip; Dan again. We saw him later outside the hotal lobby, where I had a chance to thank him for his back-cover words regarding Run Strong; amazingly, rather than blindly serving up a few canned positive words, he'd read the entire manuscript and wanted to discuss it in detail. Forget Dan's performances over the years -- he's one of those guys who is truly all about doing good things for running and on that basis alone it's a shame he's been giddily ripped apart on Letsrun.com by a panoply of nameless, rat-eaten hemorrhoids who have never met him and never will.

After a half-hour jog near the Coronado, the sweetie and I chose to expend our Saturday park passes at the Animal Kingdom. It wasn't particularly crowded, with many parkgoers looking suspciously marathonic with their ectomorphic frames and road-race garb. Nevertheless I was struck by how digital cameras have changed the complexion of the theme-park experience. If one were to wander one of these parks and behave in deference to both strollers and picture-takers at every opportunity, he would never get anywhere, because he would quite literally have to freeze in place to avoid perpetually being in the path of either a battering ram on wheels or someone's digital capturing of the moment. I used acknowledging this reality as carte blache to pay absolutely no mind to what others were doing except when my ankles and feet were at stake, which was often.

After duly filling my face with solids and liquids all evening, I crawled into bed and channel-surfed until just after midnight. Then I closed my eyes for a short nap, anticipating the squall of the phone at 3:40 a.m. My preparation for this race during the final days and hours had thus mimicked that of the preceding eight weeks: jauntily half-hearted but hopeful.

[]

During my nap I dreamed that I was playing basketball in a shockingly inept fashion with a courtload of elderly people! I kept dribbling the ball out of bounds off my feet and the fogies kicked my butt! I did not see this as any sort of omen!

Anyway, I was up and at 'em at 3:40! I downed a bunch of coffee and skedaddled over to the VIP (HA!) bus at the required time -- 4 a.m.! It was only a ten-minute ride to the start, but impending road closures dictated that we arrive at the start over an hour and a half before the race got underway and sit on the bus -- kind of a kick in the crotch if you ask me! Oh well, it's all good!

With a warm morning on tap I decided I'd hit the line with a throwaway tee and no singlet, so that's what I did! First I jogged for 10 minutes and that went well! Then I asked Darin what he was going to do! He said he'd ease into 5:45's if he could, and hey, that's what I wanted to do! So I decided we could stick together!

At the last possible moment, right after the national anthem, some heavyish young fellow who looked like a bumblebee (he wore a black and yellow cycling-style top, cycling shorts, and a lycra bandana, all perfectly coordinated) shoved himself between Darin and I so he could get a spot right on a line! I'm surprised he didn't bring starting blocks too, the silly chap!

Anyway, the race started with Minnie's giddy, squeaky countdown from ten, and as the pack broke away from the line some really stange things happened! WHEEEEEEEE! I quickly found myself behind at least fifteen people, including, no joshing, a guy who had to be close to 60, a guy with a mechanical leg, and several other fellows straight from the John Belushi mold! Still, Darin was right beside me, so I knew things were going to be okay! We had a slow first mile of 6:00 but that was okay because we were already passing some folks who were huffing and puffing, including our beefy bumblebee-boy! The two leaders, an African fellow and a crazy Brazilian showboat wearing what looked like garden-variety Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities in a ten-year-old's size, powered through the mile in close to 5:10, I'd wager! Oh, and it was dark, so I could barely see them! In fact, I couldn't see fark-all and didn't really care to! We were doing well, though, holding on to tenth place or so! Out of all those runners from all over the planet!

By three miles I'd moved past a lot of folks who had obviously disengaged their brains from their legs waaaaaaaaaay early, but Darin was still right there! We were like running buddies! But he fell back soon too, and once I got to six miles I was running alone, pretty high up in the grand scheme of things! That was how it was for the next 18 miles -- me, a road, a few bands, and some cheerful folks in bright green jackets handing out cups of stuff for me to dump in my tummy so I could keep on going and going like that wabbit in the battery commercials! A-THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP!

Right after halfway ("gonna make it," I remember telling myself), the course wound its way along a really foggy access road with no spectators or volunteers in sight! This is surreal, I was thinking; this is Walt Disney World and I have it all to myself! The sun had just appeared in the east, exactly when the weather experts had predicted it would, but fortunately would remain pretty low on the horizon until I finished! Anyway, I was getting lonely and, I'll admit, a little surly and a little tired, but I came around a turn and lo and behold, just up ahead, all by his own self too, was Donald Duck! He was waving and capering around like, well, a mentally challenged, hyperactive mallard! All for me! I waved and gave him a thumbs-up! Later, I saw his good friends Flick, Chip and Dale, Uncle Scrooge, Baloo Bear, and some other fake folks I didn't recognize 'cause I'm too old to be following such animated character business! From the looks of things, none of these beings even pretended to have an IQ over 50! Just danced and cavorted and shook their feathered and furry bottoms with alacrity! I felt right at home!

The stretch an the Animal Kingdom from 16 to 18 miles was tough! All those tight turns and little humps on walking paths are hard to negotiate when your legs are starting to go to heck because you haven't trained properly! Heck, I hadn't run more than 18 miles at once since doing 31 miles a couple of months earlier, but I was glad to get out of there and back on the sanctity of the wide-open Osceola Parkway! Divided highways make great late-race surfaces to run on in marathons because of the thick layer of concrete under the asphalt! You can really feel each and every step, which is a good reminder that you're still alive and truckin'! I was impressed as all criminy with the engineering! This was America at its finest!
I was startled when right at 24 miles, I came up on the African fellow, who'd been two minutes ahead of me as early as five miles into things, but seemed to have run into some problems since! He was barely moving in a straight line and looked like poop warmed over! In fact, I guess he quit right after I passed him! And hey, if I was passed by someone like me, I'd quit too! And he must have jinxed me, 'cause I had a sloooooooooooooooow 25th mile before rebounding nicely for a spirited finish! When I finally stopped running in the chute I saw the sweetie and then had a bite to eat after chatting with some newspaper folks who wanted to know all about what it was like to run 26 miles in a row, without stopping! With the sun out for part of it! Well, Goofy was right there and all (A-YUK-A-YUK-A-YUK!), so I did a George Bush impersonation and told them running was "work, really hard work!" That's not what they wrote in their little stories, though!

The temperature was just under 60 degrees Farenheit throughout the race, with a relative humidity ranging from 100% to 93% (which I guess explains all of that fog)! Still, I was not uncomfortably warm at any point, but probably would have been had I not been busy death-marching my way around the eastern edge of the Everglades for most of the past five months! UGH!

The bad news is that I went into the race about six weeks away from being able to run a good marathon; the good news is that I am only about six weeks away from being able to put together a fast marathon!

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