Old Mountain Field 5K

I'm not sure what looks more ridiculous,
wearing a balaclava or a baclava.

After last year's OMF race and ensuing long-term injury, my goal this year was simply to make it through in one piece. I am happy to report, in that regard, the race was a success!  I wore my trusty ankle brace just to be sure, but the ankle was the furthest thing from my mind this time around.  Thanks to the 6+ inches of snow we received on Thursday night and the seriously cold temperatures (-5 F when I went to a dentist appointment this morning and 15 F at race time), I was more focused on staying warm without overheating and choosing the right footwear for the conditions.  I went with a balaclava (not a baclava, though that would have been a delicious choice), a hat, about a hundred shirts, a single pair of tights, and long Nike dri-fit socks (the kind that have become cool to wear if you're a hip teenager, and much less cool if you're me).  On my feet, I had my regular running shoes with a pair of "walker" Yaktrax that I had gotten my wife as a present about three years ago yet were still in their original packaging.  You're welcome, honey.  I was a little concerned with the "walker" designation but it had to be better than plain old sneakers, so I went with it.  OK, now that you're caught up on my wardrobe, let's get to the race.

At last year's race, I placed fourth, well behind the top 3, and just barely outkicking Jonny (after obnoxiously sitting on him the entire race - here's his description of that).  I figured I was in better shape this year, but with these conditions, anything was possible.  I could see myself finishing anywhere in the top 10 depending on my foot slippage relative to everyone else's.

Getting off the line.  I'm the silly gent 2nd from left.
Photo by Jana Walker.

I lined up at the front along with the rest of the crew and, as the race went off, found myself in the lead next to Jonny as we approached the baseball fence.  I remember making some stupid comment about how we should just take it nice and easy and not let anyone pass us, but this thought was quickly erased as we rounded the fence corner and were suddenly faced with a drop-off into a snow drift of unknown depth.  Jonny literally disappeared from sight on my right, and I managed to leap just in time over the drift, landing safely at the bottom of the hill.  I spent the next 30 seconds laughing hysterically.  That image of Jonny vanishing into the snow is one I won't forget for a long time.

I regained composure as we crossed a bridge and headed into the woods.  I wasn't really planning to be in first place here, but it's not a bad spot to be on a narrow trail with few opportunities to pass.  I knew there were people right on my heels, but I thought I'd do my own thing and let them worry about how to get around me.  Figuring out how to run in these conditions was a challenge.  I upped my turnover, guessing that smaller strides would mean I was less reliant on the stickiness of any single step.  I also alternated between running on Galoob's snowshoe tracks and running in the fresh snow on the side but couldn't determine which was better.  I slipped less in the fresh snow but it took more energy to plow through it.  I noticed that my quads were burning as they would if I were running up a huge hill, yet the ground was perfectly flat.  I started worrying a bit about what fate awaited me in the miles ahead.

At around the mile mark, I finally had a chance to see what was going on behind me.  I noticed two white jerseys right on my tail, and then a decent gap to the chase pack.  I assumed (correctly) that one of the jerseys belonged to Ryan Woolley, who is quite a bit faster than I am and must have been biding his time before making a move.  I had no idea who the other one was.  I thought perhaps it was Jonny, a master of these technical trails.  I knew Bob Jackman must also be somewhere close by, but I forgot what he was wearing and guessed he'd be in the orange TNT jersey that at least one of his teammates had on.

I was still in the lead a little before the two mile mark when, on a downhill just before the long uphill, a white blur charged through the woods past me and into the lead, leaving a trail of debris in his wake.  It was such a sudden and bold move, Ryan and I both mumbled in astonishment.  Sure enough, it was Bob Jackman, disguised in a white jersey.  He was already almost out of sight as we ascended the steep hill, and I quickly moved aside and urged Ryan to go after him, figuring he was now the best chance we had at an individual WTAC victory.  As Ryan went by, I gave him a push in the back (probably illegal...but it's for the team!) to get him moving up the hill in pursuit.  Ryan went for it but gradually ran out of steam, and I eventually pulled back up behind him as we finally reached the course's high point.  Bob was long gone by this point, his huge move executed to perfection.

Slogging out of the switchbacks after abandoning
my fallen teammate.  Photo by Jana Walker

I ran along behind Ryan through the switchbacks, content with the pace and position, until he took a spill around a sharp curve.  I went ahead of him (like a jerk) and pushed as hard as I could the rest of the way to try to close Bob's gap to a respectable amount.  It was frustrating trying to mount a kick in the final 400 meters but having my legs spin under me like I was Scooby-Doo chasing Old Man Murphy at the abandoned amusement park.  At long last, I pulled through the finish line in 23:52 for 2nd, a full 20 seconds behind Bob, who really earned this win, and just barely ahead of Ryan, who surely would have beaten me in normal conditions.  As at the Christmas 10K, it was awesome to watch the train of WTAC singlets cross the line in succession behind me - Jeff, Nate, Jonny, Seth, and even Muddy a short time afterward in his glorious return to racing.  A great team performance in tough conditions.  I'd expect no less from this hearty group.

Kudos to Mike Galoob for putting on the race despite the weather and then absolutely crushing two indoor track races later in the day.  He is a machine.

Post-race WTAC team shot. I guess I was the only one who didn't get the memo
about not touching each other.  Sorry guys.  Photo by Jana Walker.