Trust none of what you hear and less of what you see.

[singlepic=6879,280,200,,left]

Waking up Sunday morning I was excited to be running my first endurance trail race. Actually, my trail running resume only included one other trail run a few years ago at the 10k Leather man’s Loop. My biggest fear was getting lost in the race and having people come searching for me long after the race was over. I listened intently at the pre-race instructions to try to pick up any information I could to help me navigate this journey. Mr. Bimble gave great emphasis on the type of markings that would be found on the course, flags, tape and big paper plates with arrows. OK, I thought this won’t be too bad after all. But then came the words “someone will get lost, they always do”.

The race started with a loop around the open field and then we were across the road on to the trail. It didn’t take long to reach the first aid station and it was a complete surprise to hear people clapping for you as if they were there to see YOU. It was warm and uplifting. I was thinking I really like this feeling. The rest of the first half of the race was just fun. I enjoyed climbing the Bluff’s Head and descending down to the half way point. The view was fantastic and the track although too rocky for my taste was fast moving. I arrived at the Aid Station#3 to more cheering and still feeling great. A self inventory told be I was half way home in 3:10 and having a good time.

The rest was a different story. A long climb made my legs start to ache in places they never ached before. It didn’t take long to realize this next stretch of 8 miles to the next aid station was going to be trouble. I would subsequently take two head first falls as it became difficult to lift my legs. I missed a turn and realized backtracking that I was losing my composure. Having only carried one water bottle I was done with my fluids with a guess that I was still 3 miles away. I walked for awhile and runners passed me I never saw before. Suddenly, I remembered that I needed to get to Aid Station#4 before the seven hour cutoff and my watch was showing 6:42 already. I pushed on thinking this was going to be a close call if I didn’t start making some time. When I finally arrived there was more cheering and a familiar face. Forrest, who had already finished was standing there greeting runners and informed me that the cutoff was actually way back at the third aid station not this station. I felt stupid. He said I was doing great and I suddenly felt like it. The aches didn’t ache as much anymore as I ran the short trek to the finish.

It was a great run. What struck me the most was the special bond you see between the trail runners, the smiles on the volunteers and how the race was run like a well oiled machine. I found the course itself was tricky to a novice like myself. There is a rule of thumb that I always apply when running a road race for the first time. It comes from a Bruce Springsteen song “..trust none of what you hear and less of what you see”. The same can be said of The Bluff, trust me.

Clark