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.)