Ragnar Trail Relay and Four on the Fourth

Yes, yes, I know, I'm a bit behind. With three races coming up the next three weeks, I need to start clearing out my backlog. Let's start with the most recent two races first - the Ragnar New England trail relay and Bridgton Four on the Fourth, run on consecutive weekends over my week off from work in late June / early July.

Ragnar New England

I had the great pleasure of participating as part of Team Foolproof Brewing Co. at the Ragnar trail relay in Northfield, MA. You can find the details and logistics of the race here, and read about a couple of my teammates' experiences here and here.

My day started at work, since our team didn't need to race until 5 PM, but I was able to take off at noon and make my way up to Northfield with plenty of time to spare. I arrived around the same time as Jeff, and the two of us joined the rest of the team at our nice campsite, which was perfectly located close to the race course and restrooms (but fortunately not too close to the restrooms, given the state of affairs later that day).

We passed the time perusing Bob's exquisite spreadsheet that included running order and predicted times. I'd be the team's fourth runner, running the shortest leg first, longest second, and medium distance third. This was fine by me, as I really had no preference, though, in retrospect, I think this was really the ideal order.

Seth led us off, and I eagerly awaited his return. He and I would be running the loops in the same sequence, so I was very much looking forward to his scouting reports. His advice, upon finishing the green loop, was to hold back on the hill, as it was longer and steeper than he'd expected. I made a mental note to heed his suggestion.

Leg 1: Green Loop - 3.5 miles

Working on the belt. (Photo by Jeff)

After a short warmup with Woolley, I headed over to the transition tent and waited for Boj to finish his loop. The sun was still out but fortunately the temperature had cooled a bit; conditions seemed ideal. Boj came into view, and I got into position to receive the bib. It took me a few tries to snap the bib around my waist, but once I did, I settled right down and got to work up the hill. After Seth's warning about the unexpected steepness of the hill on this "easy" loop, I wanted to conserve as much energy as possible in the early going. The trail ascended single- and double-track trails for nearly a mile before leveling off. I hadn't looked at the elevation profile in advance, and for some reason I thought I still had another half-mile of hill to go, so I didn't fully let loose until it was clear I was on my way down. The downhills were fun and relentless. It seemed like they were more plentiful than the ups, which I suppose is a good sign, but I was worried about my joints and quads and didn't want to do too much damage on the first leg of the night. Eventually, the green trail merged with the other two onto a fun single-track section that spilled out into grassy fields to the finish. There were so many people on this section that I spent the majority of the time shouting "on your left" to many a startled runner. I closed strong but in control and handed the bib off to Woolley.

Mile paces: 8:30, 5:20, 5:31, 5:26

Based on Jackman's calculations, I knew I'd have only about 4 hours between legs. I chose to grab my dinner right away so I'd have time to digest before leg 2. All Ragnar participants were treated to Boloco Bowls for dinner. The food was actually pretty good, though I did question the logic of serving Mexican food at a race. Sure enough, most of us suffered from "Boloco Bowels" later in the night. Besides fueling up, I also spent some time on the foam roller (getting some funny looks from onlookers when rolling the front of my quads) and then put my legs up on a chair to let gravity do its job on whatever junk was in there after the first run.

Leg 2: Red Loop - 6.5 miles

Before I knew it, I was up for the Red loop - the longest and most difficult leg on the course, with two hills to summit before a screaming descent on some technical trails. By this time, the sun was long gone, and the darkness added another dimension to contend with. I was fortunate to have use of Galoob's incredible headlamp, which provided more than enough light on the trail. Going up the first hill, I felt that I was moving well, occasionally encountering a slower runner to break up the loneliness of night. It took just over 30 minutes to finally reach the second peak, and then I began the long drop back to the transition area. My memory of this section is mostly gone. The one thought that kept going through my head was, "How am I going to run another one of these?" When I reached the shared single-track at the end of the loop, I merged behind another runner going pretty fast. (Side note: men were much less willing than women to move over and let me pass during the race, further proving that all guys are jerks.) I worked hard to get around him (nearly running headlong into a tree while trying to pass) and immediately found myself behind another runner. As I got ready to pass him, he sped up and kept up a very solid pace. Turns out his headlamp had died and he was just waiting for someone else to come along so he could see where he was going. I figured I'd be nice and run behind him for a bit, but I found myself barely able to hang on. When the trail opened up onto the field, he pulled away. In the process of trying to hang with this guy, I'd been pulled along to a quick final mile, but my legs were toast.

Mile paces: 9:28, 9:15, 8:27, 6:31, 7:22, 5:48, 5:38

My second leg ended a little after midnight, and the next four hours were not too enjoyable. I needed to rest, but I couldn't fall asleep. I don't know if it was the excitement of the night, not wanting to miss out on hanging with my teammates, or the 150% humidity, but I just couldn't seal the deal. I nonetheless closed my eyes for a couple of hours in the hopes that I would trick my body into thinking I'd gotten a full night's sleep. Sometime after 5 AM, I pulled on my cold, wet jersey and dragged myself back over to the transition tent for the yellow loop. My stomach was in knots from whatever that Boloco bowl had done.This would be tough.

Leg 3: Yellow Loop - 4.7 miles

Daylight was beginning appear, and this gave me some energy as I started up a hill one final time. This loop had another long, steep hill over the first 1.5 miles, before, like the others, descending back to the finish. I put everything I had into the hill, but my legs had no pop in them. I trudged up and over the top and then tried to let loose on the way down, but that didn't work so well either. On steep downhill miles, I was hardly able to run sub-7 pace. These felt like different legs than the ones that were running sub-5 down a hill on my first loop. My shins were absolutely killing me from the slapfest my feet were throwing on the descent. Somehow, I got a surge of energy once I got within a mile of the finish and managed to run my fastest final mile of the event, grateful to hand off the darn bib one last time.

Mile paces: 9:37, 7:56, 6:51, 6:37, 5:16

Aftermath: Thankfully, there was no other running to do, as I could scarcely put one foot in front of the other. My calves and quads were shot, and my gait elicited more than a little laughing out of our eldest team member, Jeff. I still enjoyed watching the rest of the team finish their loops, each looking as physically spent as the rest. We all crossed the line together with Bob, 15 hours, 20 minutes after starting. As exhausting as it was, I had an absolute blast. Many thanks to Bob for rounding up a crew and organizing all of the logistics. Oh, and we won, so that was nice, too!

Aftermath of the aftermath: I came awfully close to falling asleep at the wheel many times on my drive to Maine after the race. I'd never before stayed up all night, and my body was not happy about it. Having Jonny in the car for the majority of the ride may have saved my life, as his conversation and moose watching exploits kept me entertained. I couldn't do more than shuffle my feet for two days after the race, and a run on the third day was like getting stabbed in the calves on every single step. It was a full week before the calves were not debilitatingly sore. Which brings us to....

Bridgton Four on the Fourth

After making the annual trek up to Fryeburg, Maine, for family vacation, I headed over to Bridgton with Katie and our friends Mike and Winter for the big local race. The race draws thousands locals, vacationers, and kids from nearby summer camps and always has some solid talent up front. This would be my fourth consecutive year running it, and my only goal was to run faster than I'd run the year before (21:53).

Front and center on the race website are two guys who could use a few days in the sun.

The first mile is a gradual downhill, and between the gradient and the excitement, people go fast. As I did last year, I consciously kept my pace in check and let the crowd go by, knowing most would fade on the hills in the following miles. By the mile mark, I was in eleventh, despite going through in 5:19 - a bit faster than I wanted but still comfortable.

As expected, I began to pick off some of the overly enthusiastic starters as we climbed the interminable hill that lasts from mile 1 to mile 2.5, gaining 150 feet in that span. I kept my cadence high and tried to push the pace beyond my normal comfort level. From past years' experience, I knew that the final 1.5 miles are all downhill, giving my legs plenty of time to recover from a hard effort on the hills. By mile 2 (5:41), I'd passed all of the runners within reach and was now in 6th place. The top 5 were all VERY far ahead at this point, but I still held out hope that at least one more would fall prey to their spicy pace, allowing me to claim one of the coveted "podium" positions.

I crested the hill and realized I'd started reeling in the 5th place guy, but I'd have to use the downhills to make up the remaining 15-second gap on him. The pounding on the downhills brought back the tightness in my shins that still lingered from Ragnar. I moved onto the soft shoulder and decided that losing a couple of seconds by running on the gravel/crab grass would be better than losing minutes when my shins stopped functioning. Amazingly, the guy in front of me was doing the same thing. What luck! The up-and-down third mile split was 5:34, and I was only a few seconds behind the 5th place guy at this point.

An old man charging toward the finish.
Note the vintage 1996 Olympic jersey.

The last mile of the race is mostly downhill and finishes with a long run down Main St before turning down a side road to the line. I made my move by the guy I'd been pursuing for the last mile just after the mile-to-go mark and gave him my customary, "Keep it up." When he replied, "Go get that next guy," I knew I didn't have to worry about him passing me back. Unfortunately, I would've had to rip a sub-4 mile to catch the next guy, but I still wanted to finish strong, so I put in a solid effort down the crowd-lined road and through the line. I heard several spectators say "Wow!" as I ran by, which I assume was due to their amazement at this seemingly 60-year-old man with a gray beard running so fast despite arthritic knees and probably a recent colonoscopy. My final mile was 5:03 (remember, it was net downhill), for an overall time of 21:43, 10 seconds faster than last year and only 3 seconds off my 4-mile PR, despite the tough course.

After the race, I looped back around to watch the rest of my "team" finish, with Mike slipping under 24 minutes, Katie just missing a spot among the top-5 women, and Winter claiming an age group award (only she didn't, as Mike had accidentally registered her as a 29-year-old man instead of a 30-year-old women). I could hardly run a cool down, as my Ragnar-induced calf pain had returned with a vengeance, so I instead made everyone wait around for an hour so I could claim my 5th place prizes. These turned out to be quite generous - $25 to a local grocery store and $25 to New Balance.

Looking at the results afterward, I was pleased to be the top finisher not still in college. (1st place in the responsibilities division, as Mike likes to say.) See results here and race write-up here.

A great couple of weekends of racing. I'm hoping these set the stage for some good efforts at the remaining summer races. Expect a blog post on those by October...