As I warmed up near the starting line I tried to remember the last running race I did. It was the Autumn Classic in Nampa, Idaho way back in 1987. Hmmm… 25 years. That's a while. I've certainly done plenty of racing since then but always on a bike or, more recently, on rando skis. Now, with my recent move to Alaska and a new love for mountain running, I decided to toe the line in the first trail running event of the year, Kal's Knoya Ridge Run last Thursday evening.
The race promotion promised a hefty 4,300 vertical feet up but due to the heavy snowfall this winter, the course was shortened to 2,900 feet. Longer would have been better for me and other runners were clearly disappointed. Nevertheless, at least 150 folks stepped up on this rainy afternoon for some suffering. Fortunately, the rain stopped before the start and, although muddy at times, conditions were pretty great up high.
The first half of the course favored "real" runners, a group of athletes with which I cannot claim membership. The course climbed gradually at first, hitting steep rollers that encouraged running rather than hiking. I entered the wide single track in good position behind all the shirtless 20 somethings and went backwards from there. I didn't really expect anything else but it was demoralizing just the same.
As the pitch ramped up after about 20 minutes, even some of the runners in front of me started walking and I started gaining some lost ground. When the real calf burning climbing started, I was able to steadily pick off competitors. I was still middle of the pack but it was fun to set some competitive goals from the cheap seats. It was a race after all.
With all the rain the humidity was surprisingly high. I was overheating in the trees. But once above tree line and onto the gorgeous tundra ridge, a light breeze cooled me down which helped me go faster. I couldn't really go harder. I kept a curious eye on my heart rate monitor and it was reading 163-168 bpm since the gun. I was satisfied with that. It was cool to look far up ahead and see the long line of athletes snaking their way up the course. What a bunch of masochists. This was as physically unpleasant as any competition I'd done. With less than an hour of effort there was no need to hold back.
A short downhill near the final grunt to the line had me fearing for my weak ankles. The head wind made my eyes water uncontrollably which made picking my way down tenuous. I expected some of the young studs to come barreling by me but no one materialized before the next climb. Like the insecure man that I am, I set my sights on the next two competitors in front of me who happened to be women. Did I mention I hate getting girled?? It's the inevitable consequence of aging. I've gone from competing against my peers to just hoping to stay with the fastest women. I'm even starting to fail at that.
As I closed in on these two a short snow field loomed just ahead. Knowing that a lot of people are uncomfortable on snow and me, not so much, I sprinted (relative term) by just before the first slippery steps, pegging my HR at 172 in the process. But the ploy worked and I distanced my followers on the final 2 minutes to the finish.
I'm a little curious as to how I managed a Peak Training Effect (PTE) of 5 in such a short event. Certainly, there's no wavering in my effort. But typically, like in skimo races, it takes a couple of hours of racing to bump the PTE up that high. Guess I don't completely understand how Suunto arrives at these evaluations.
I felt good at the top, didn't collapse, and failed to develop the hacking cough that I'm often plagued with after efforts like this. I think the low altitude and humid air have everything to do with it. I did a little better than I thought finishing 36th in 51:44 with only 2 women in front of me. Najeeby Quinn, the women's winner, set a new record covering the 5.6 km course and 2,900 vertical feet in 47:39. The fastest men's competitor, Matias Saari, went a blistering 40:09. Yeah, Saari, goddamn Scandanavian mutant!
With the snow clearing out in the hills above town I can only get better with more miles. Many of these folks run year around. I find it fascinating that I'm so slow when actually running but much better when it's just trudging uphill. I think it comes down to economy of motion and, although my running has improved over the last year, I still have a long way to go to match the kind of miles some of these life long runners have in their legs. Put them on skis and the tables might be turned.
The best part about being pretty average at a new sport is that there is much room for improvement to enjoy. I have races the next two weekends and at least one of them is more of a hike than a run. Maybe I'll do better there. Stay tuned. - Brian
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