What you don’t know will get results

I have now confirmed my long-held theory that the secret to trail-running success is not consistent mileage or strength training or nutrition or mental fortitude, but selecting a sufficiently obscure, small, and unknown event, ideally one where you are likely to be the only person in your age group. It also helps if you don’t tell all your speedy running buddies that you plan to go. (Ever heard of the Haddam April Fool’s 10.5 Mile Race? the Greenville TN 30K? the Colchester Land Trust 5 miler? I promise… this strategy works, though it seems to be a bit easier for women to pull off).

My modest effort to empathize with the Vermont 100 Bimblers involved checking out a new CT 10K race hosted by YES Endurance Sports at Huntington State Park (near Redding). Although I usually don’t have much interest in races shorter than a half-marathon (the miles to dollars ratio just isn’t there and it somehow feels hard to justify driving across the state for a little jaunt I could do in my backyard at East Rock), this one just kept attracting my curiosity. Perhaps because of the disappointment of missing the prior event in the series at Sleeping Giant (Catamount and I puzzled over the lime markings still around when we ran there the following day and I later stumbled upon the YES website that made it all clear). I was impressed by the course route the organizers had developed for the Giant (similar–but better–than the horseshoe Bimble we did this Spring) and drawn by the lure of new trails.

Diana and I drove up to Redding, passing an inviting-looking reservoir and visiting an area of CT I had never seen before. Although we arrived at the last possible moment, I had time to register and make it through the short bathroom line. A gentleman in line behind me talked about his quest to run a race in every CT town, which he is tackling two per weekend (apparently two towns don’t seem to offer any races, but he has been in contact with them about this oversight). I didn’t recognize any faces in the crowd of about fifty and noticed that many of the runners were wearing road shoes and lacked the hydration toys trail runners tend to sport. The motto for the series (and logo on the tech T-shirt) was “Get off the roads and onto the trails,” and it looked like the organizers had been successful in attracting quite a few new trail runners. (After the race, I overheard one very fit road runner exclaiming in horror over her slow mile splits, and I was happy to offer a reality check and some encouragement.)

After barely making it to the start, I charged off more rapidly than usual, realizing I didn’t really remember how to pace myself for a 10K. Shortly afterwards, the bulk of the pack branched off for the 5K course, leaving me pleasantly alone in the woods on some very nice, twisty, runnable single track which passed several ponds and was occasionally broken up by sections of dirt road. Overall, the course and terrain reminded me the most, perhaps, of Soapstone. As I wilted in the morning heat, I hoped the Vermont Bimblers were experiencing cooler weather and reflected on how thankful I was not to be running 94 additional miles!

The one devilish curve-ball in the course was a murderous section which local runners call “the powerlines”: a series of long, extremely steep rocky climbs and descents (I have no idea how many–maybe three or four, though it felt like more), which left me exhausted and glad that I had worn the hydration belt. By that point in the race, I was finally within sight of a blue-spandexed runner, who I chased the remaining half hour on a mostly uphill path. (Fortunately, I was using my usual technique of bracing for constant climbing and viewing all flats and downhills as free, bonus gifts to appreciate but not expect!)

When I finally it made to the sunny, uphill finish, I heard Diana yelling encouragement, telling me I was the first woman in. I didn’t quite break the one hour mark, but I was thrilled to be able to hit the watermelon table and relax in the shade. There were ample refreshments (including fruit, bagels, and coffee) and gear prizes for the 5-year age group winners in the 5K and 10K (many of whom were surprised to find themselves with an award and curious about whether they had had any competition). I took home a nice Nathan handheld bottle and some flyers about the enticing events the organizers sponsor in Costa Rica (Diana looked dubious about the week-long, marathon-a-day, stage race along the coast, but seemed more open to the 4 day running/surf camp…)

Costa Rica 2011, anyone?

I suspect I may be tempted by the next race in the series, but I can’t tell you when or where it might be.