Bridge 2 Bridge

Mohonk Mountain House. I have graced the halls as
a sweaty, uninvited guest on many a run.

As life gets busier, my trips back to my childhood home in New Paltz, NY, become less and less frequent. The most disappointing thing about this is that it gives me only a few opportunities a year to run in the trail runner's paradise that is the Shawangunks. Only a couple of miles from my parents' house, the mountains are crisscrossed by over seven-hundred miles of trails. Many are well maintained carriage paths that were originally constructed for guests of the 19th and early 20th century mountain top resorts. (One of these, the Mohonk Mountain House, still operates today and is absolutely stunning.) There are also plenty of single-track options for you real trail runners, but I grew up running on the carriage paths, and I haven't yet found a place better suited to long distance training than these mountains.

For the past two years, I have aligned a visit home with the Bridge 2 Bridge 5-mile trail race, held at the Mohonk Preserve. The course is pretty tame for a mountain trail race; most of it is out and back on a relatively flat and wide carriage path. It's a bit disappointing that the race doesn't take advantage of the variety of trails in the vicinity, but I suppose the point is to incorporate the two wooden bridges that events like this help fund across the preserve. This is a relatively young race -- this was just the third edition -- so it doesn't have the history of some of the other races in the mountains, but it worked for my schedule, and I couldn't pass up the chance to race up in my favorite spot in the world. 

At last year's race, I ran 28:40 for the win. My primary goal this year was to beat that time. As a secondary goal, I arbitrarily decided I wanted to break 28:00, since that's a nice round number and sounds better than trying to break, say, 28:17. I also wanted to defend the title but knew that would depend on who showed up. Two years ago, the winner was a former University of Colorado runner who nearly broke 26:00. I'd never be able to compete with someone like that.

I warmed up with my buddy Mike (of Maine-athlon fame) and his wife Winter and then stopped by my car to drop off my stuff. Whenever I run races back home, I inevitably bump into people I haven't seen in years. I'm typically solid when it comes to remembering names and faces, but I'm not perfect, so I'm usually on guard at these types of events. So, I was surprised when I heard an unfamiliar female voice say, "Chris, is that you?" I turned around and DID NOT HAVE ANY IDEA who this person was. Nevertheless, I put on my friendliest face, and said, "Hey! What are you doing here?" We hugged and chatted like old friends, while I racked my brain to figure out how I knew her. As our small talk continued, I mentioned that I now live in Rhode Island, to which she replied, "Oh really? What did you do with your practice?" Hmm. I was at a decision point. Do I finally admit that I don't know her, after five minutes of pretending I did, or do I make up a story about moving my practice? If the latter seems like a ridiculous option, then you don't know me. I once went an entire flight from Salt Lake City to Boston pretending that I was a Mormon because I misunderstood a question that the guy sitting next to me had asked within the first two minutes of the flight. If I could make up stories about converting to a new religion despite my family's resistance and about mission trips to Central America, then I could easily talk for a few minutes about moving a practice to Rhode Island. But I'm trying to be better about this sort of thing, so I decided to put an end to this nonsense. I stuttered out the most awkward sentence about not having a practice and not knowing who she is, and she even more awkwardly explained that her friend Chris looks like me and has a similar car. I wasn't sure what to do at that point, so I continued talking to her as if we were old friends and the uncomfortable realization that just came light had never actually happened. Maybe I should have stuck with my old ways. It turns out this is much worse.

Anyway, I got to the starting line and didn't see anyone too threatening up near the front. There were a few kids from Mount Academy (a newly formed local high school for the Bruderhof community, with just one sport -- cross country; incredibly, in their two years of existence, they have won the New York State Class D championships twice). The race director, the loquacious local legend, Steve Schallenkamp, did his usual long-winded pre-race spiel, which was quite fortuitous for Mike, as his Garmin didn't acquire satellites until about three seconds before we started. Disaster averted! It doesn't count if it's not on Strava.

I took off at a pretty good clip but actually got passed by one of the high schoolers soon after the start. Maybe I underestimated these guys. I stuck right behind him until maybe 1200 meters into the race and then tried to make an aggressive move to go by and hopefully discourage him from following. I opened up a small gap by the mile (5:40) and continued pushing through the two-mile mark (5:36), as I didn't want any company during the second half. Shortly after starting the third mile, the course turns off the main trail onto a very steep and rocky path. The climb is short (less than a half mile) but absolutely devastating. However, it presents a good opportunity to see how everyone is feeling. I decided to hammer up, which only revealed that I was hurting and told me nothing about anyone else. Still, by the time I reached the bottom of the downhill and turned back onto the main trail, I was all alone (and quite thankful for it).

1.5 miles into the race. High schoolers on my tail and old men in short shorts.

One of the bridges in the race name. Not sure if this is on the way out or back.

At this point, 2nd place was well back, but I still wanted to run a fast time. My third mile was just under 6:00, and I needed a strong final two miles to get under 28:00. Something strange was happening, though. I was going almost as hard as I could, yet my pace was hovering around 5:50. This section is relatively flat or maybe even slightly downhill, yet I couldn't get my pace back down to where it had been before the hill. Not a good sign. My frustrating fourth mile was 5:47.

Approaching mile 4. The smiles are getting tougher to hold for the camera.

Running downhill toward the finish loop. 

The first half of the final mile continues on the flat trail past the starting line before dropping sharply down to a big loop around a field to the finish. The downhill gave me a bit of an energy boost going into the field. The few spectators (roughly half of which were my dad, Seb, and Mike's parents) helped urge me on, and the race director's jokes through the megaphone of, "Who are you running from? Relax. Enjoy yourself," made me smile heading into the finish. But when I saw the clock ticking up towards 28:00, it was time to get serious again. I knew it was going to be close, and I even leaned at the line to lock in a 27:59.9 (5:08 final mile...mostly downhill). Not quite as dramatic as the 1:59.90 800m earlier this year, but still a close call. There was a great awards ceremony afterwards that was made only slightly awkward by the fact that my ex-girlfriend won the women's race. 

Race face is back on as the clock ticks away.

A little lean across the line to clinch the sub-28. This is probably equivalent in prestige to Bannister breaking 4:00.

Trying to keep the reins on Seb and the pink ball he was trying to kick across the pavilion. The award table was full of prizes ranging from yearly Preserve memberships, entries to all local trail races, books by marathon pioneer (and New Paltz resident) Katherine Switzer, and the coveted peach pies made by the Bruderhof community. 

Afterwards, I took to Strava to check out how my 2013 and 2014 races compared over various sections of the course (see table below). It looks like I cut most of the time off during the first two miles (in my attempt to break those kids). A more evenly paced race probably would have produced a faster time. Next year, I'll remember to show a bit more patience in the early going.

Segment	2014 time	2013 time	Difference
Start to Bridge 1	5:50	6:03	-13
Bridge 1 to 2	2:33	2:29	+4
Bridge 2 to turn off	3:12	3:29	-17
Hill loop	3:25	3:31	-6
End of loop to Bridge 2	2:19	2:19	0
Bridge 2 to 1	2:34	2:33	+1
Bridge 1 to start	5:47	5:54	-7
Start to Finish	2:19	2:22	-3

And if you're ever looking for a trail race away from home, there are some good ones up in these mountains. Here's a list of the seven that I know of, with some commentary.

American Zofingen Duathlon - I did the "short course" a few years ago, and it was the toughest race I've ever done in my life. The long course is 3x longer.

Rock the Ridge Endurance Challenge - 50-mile race for individuals or relays; only a few years old; won by Ben Nephew both years I believe.

Summer Solstice 14K - Held at Minnewaska State Park; I've never done this but always wanted to.

Bridge 2 Bridge 5M - You've read more than enough about this already.

Pfalz Point Trail Challenge 10M - Very tough course. I ran it once and really struggled. Would love to do it again.

Survival of the Shawangunks Triathlon - #1 on my bucket list. Bike, run, swim, run, swim, run, swim, run. 30 miles cycling, 2 miles swimming, 17 miles running. Once I get comfortable in the water again, I'm doing this race.

After the Leaves Have Fallen 20K - Another Minnewaska race. I've done it twice and really enjoyed it.

I think I need to start lifting weights. (Probably what Mike is saying to me in this pic.)

Run 4 Kerri

After running the Run 4 Kerri last year, I knew I'd be back for more in 2014. It has quite a bit going for it -- it's local (less than 10 miles from my house), extremely well run, for a good cause, on very scenic roads, and draws some pretty high level competition. On this last point, race director Scott Bessette sent out an email a few days before the race with the bios of at least a dozen competitors who'd be toeing the line. My chances of repeating last year's 15th-place finish were looking slim at the outset.

[Note: In this next paragraph, I will write about a bunch of things that could be viewed as EXCUSES. They are not. They are simply some factors that contributed to a less-than-ideal race day for me. Wait, that's pretty much the definition of an excuse. Hmm, I guess there's no weaseling my way around this. Without further ado, here are a few excuses...]


While I was looking for a strong race, I knew I wouldn't be in top form for a couple of reasons. First, my legs were absolutely trashed after last week's Blessing of the Fleet. I've always felt that you can only tell how fit you are for a race a day or two after it's over, based on how sore your legs are. Well, my legs were a mess, and they didn't feel normal again until Friday. Second, I had the house to myself for the week leading up to the race, which meant I had some extra time for running/cycling, so there would be no tapering for this one. Finally, I had to drive to and from Woburn, MA, for work on both Thursday and Friday, which left me feeling pretty drained by the time the weekend rolled around. So, while I was going into this race with somewhat tempered expectations, a race is still a race, and I wanted to beat my 4-mile PR (21:53) set a month ago, so there would be no holding back.

I woke up on race day feeling woozy for some reason. This was soon joined by some significant intestinal discomfort. My digestive tract is usually rock solid, so this was unnerving. The race was happening no matter what; it was just a matter of whether this would cause problems for me out in the middle of course. I threw some TP in my shorts just in case and said a little prayer to the PM.

I arrived early and after picking up my number and shirt (side note: the R4K has the nicest volunteers I've ever encountered at a race) bumped into some of the large Turtle contingent that would be in attendance. They far outnumbered the WTAC crew, despite this race taking place in our home territory. After a warmup, I found a spot next to Turtle figurehead Bob Jackman a few rows back from the start. Crutch soon wandered over to wish us luck before departing to join "his people." (His words, not mine.)

My goal was to average 5:25 pace and, while not worrying about my position in the race, still be competitive. Unsurprisingly, the race took off quickly, with the speedy guys stringing out the field in a matter of seconds. Despite starting a few too many rows behind the starting line, I immediately found a lane and made my way up into maybe 30th place by the half-mile mark. Before I knew it, I was running neck-and-neck with the leader...of the women's race. I followed Stephanie Reilly through the mile in 5:22 and then pulled even with her as we made the turn onto Moonstone Beach Rd. It's a fun - and humbling - experience to run beside an Olympian. I almost felt embarrassed when I passed her before we turned onto Card's Pond. I wanted to say, "You don't deserve to lose to a schmuck like me," but I thought that might just make it worse. She must have stayed pretty close for awhile, as I had the pleasure of running directly behind the lead women's vehicle through the 2-mile mark, which I passed in 10:50, right on 5:25 pace.

There weren't many guys in sight in front of me at this point, so I focused on the few that I could see and tried to close the gap. I caught two guys by the time we turned into the neighborhood and one more shortly after, and that was it for the rest of race. In fact, I really didn't see anyone else until the long straight into the finish. The third mile ends in the middle of a short, steep hill in the neighborhood. When I rode my bike on the course the day before, a bunch of neighborhoods kids were assembled on this hill and cheered me on like I was in the Tour de France. When I reached the top, they shouted, "TOUCHDOWN!" (It must have been an American version of the Tour de France.) I was hoping to see them again during the race, but I was instead given quiet mumbles of encouragement from the much less exuberant adults standing on the side of the road. This mile was a slow 5:36. I was going to need a big final mile to get back on target.

The steep hill really killed my momentum, and it's hard to get it back, as the course continues slightly up for another hundred yards or so. I eventually got back into a rhythm and tried to let gravity do the work down the hill past the starting line. The downhill propelled me into the long finish straightaway. I managed a decent kick despite having no one to chase and no one to hold off and crossed the finish in 21:40, exactly 5:25 pace, which meant the final mile was 5:14. Surprisingly, this put in 15th place; exactly where I'd finished last year. (And just making the cut for NE Runner Magazine's results page -- I'm gonna be famous!)

I watched Bob and a few other Turtles (including Scott Mason, making a triumphant return to racing)cross the finish and cheered Crutch as he finished off a strong effort. Afterward, Bob invited me on a cooldown with Principe Sr. and Jr., and before I knew it, we were running the course again. This was a bit longer than I'm used to cooling down, but it was well worth it, and I really enjoyed the conversation.

In summary, I'm satisfied with the race. However, it does make me wonder if I should start setting more aggressive goals, or if I my goal pace just happens to be exactly as fast as I can run. We'll see next week, as I tackle a 5-mile trail race in my hometown.


(See the Level Renner write-ups of the race are here and here.)