Run for the Pumpkins

Without really meaning to, I seem to have made 2019 a "checklist" year. By this, I mean I've been ticking off a bunch of races I either hadn't done before or hadn't done in many years. Run for the Pumpkins fits neatly into both of those categories. I last ran it in 2013 when it was a totally different race. It has since moved from road to trail, and increased in distance from 5K to 8K. It had been so long partly because of the California hiatus, but also because in past years it has conflicted with the Williams Alumni race, so I was thrilled when this year's schedule came out and I was free.

Heading into race day, I was pretty excited for a few reasons: the race is on a fun and challenging course; most of the WTAC team would be there (this is becoming increasingly rare); and the race’s theme (pumpkins!) would mean fall/Halloween décor around the course for a unique experience. Adding to the intrigue, I heard from Jonny that a fast Rhode Islander new to trails would be there to make his off-road debut. (Jonny is sort of like the Ken Rosenthal of local running, without the bow tie.)

I got in a short warm-up with Jonny and Tommy. This gave me a chance to check on the trail conditions, which were surprisingly firm and dry, despite rain leading up to the race. Based on this assessment, and the fact that the trails aren’t terribly technical, I opted for a pair of light road trainers rather than my heavy-ish trail shoes. This would be the rare shoe choice that didn’t come back to haunt me.

The race starts around the grass playing fields, where we’d pre-wet our footwear just to get that out of the way. For the first part of the race, the short and long race courses would share a trail, so there would be a period of uncertainty as to whom the competition was. At the gun, Aaron was off the line fast, but I knew he’d be in the 5K, and Tommy (also in the 5K) was just behind me. I was starting to wonder where our fast visitor was when he shot past on the climb in the first part of the woods, leaving me slack-jawed and puffing behind. One other guy, unknown to me, was a few steps in front of me when we reached the 5K/8K split. I fully expected him to take the 5K left when he instead blasted to the right, continuing on the 8K course and leaving me in third place. That makes two mysterious fast runners to worry about!

Around the field we go. Eventual winner in the BAA jersey behind me. Eventual third-placer on the far right. Pics from Jana.

After the first mile, the leader was already 10-15 seconds ahead, and his lead was seemingly growing by the stride. [You can check out the Strava Fly-by race overview here.] I hate to admit it, but I was already telling myself that second place wouldn’t be so bad. Still, there was a long way to go, and even second place was far from guaranteed. And of course there was always the chance of getting swallowed up by the speedy group behind me, too.

On the long downhill that makes up the end of the first loop, I made another unfortunate discovery – the young guy in second place was an exceptionally good downhill runner. He effortlessly put 5 seconds on me. I knew there would be another lengthy descent near the end of the race, and I made a tactical note to try to gap him long before that if the opportunity presented itself.

The second loop starts on the most difficult part of the course – a twisting, rocky uphill with endless switchbacks and a maze-like feel. I managed to catch up to the second-place guy halfway up, but he was moving well enough that a pass wasn’t in the cards. The winding nature of this section also had the effect of putting many runners in close proximity to one another, even if we weren't so close in race distance. I was able to see the leader, still cruising along, as well as many of the chasers, who seemed to be bearing down on me. I was hoping this illusion would have the same worrying effect on those ahead of me as it was having on me.

I reached the top still on the second-placer’s heels when he abruptly stepped aside and told me to go by. Apparently, he’d been putting in a surge on the hill to maintain his position and could no longer hold the pace. He also kindly encouraged me to go after the leader, to which I sort of laughed. Sensing my lack of enthusiasm, he made the observation that “he is coming back to us.” I figured this was a bit of motivational hyperbole, but as I looked ahead, I realized he was quite right. What had been maybe a 20-second gap was now only ~10 seconds. Remembering that this guy was a trail novice, it made sense that I’d closed so much on the most technical section of the course. I wondered if there would be more trail like that to give me a shot to get closer.

As luck would have it, we eventually got to another twisty, fun section (the famed ‘Hansel & Gretel’?) that, while not anywhere near as challenging as the earlier one, required some well-honed footwork to get through quickly. Now it was apparent that I was gaining rapidly and it would be a matter of minutes before I’d caught up. I knew this type of trail wouldn’t last forever, so I needed to make the most of it.

After a final surge, I caught up and settled into his pace for a short time while I plotted my next move and got my feet under me. I hadn’t been plotting for long when we reached the “optional” rock climb. Here, as Jeff announced at the start, we’d choose our own destiny. We could go up and over and risk whatever tragedies accompany such terrain, or we could go around the longer way and only risk our time. The sign indicating this junction appeared so unexpectedly, the leader didn’t have a chance to think and simply continued on the “go around” route. If there was a time to take a risk, this was it, so up and over I went. The rock wasn’t so bad and reminded me of many similar ones in Big River, so I was somewhat accustomed to navigating its crevices and crags. And, sure enough, it was quicker, as I descended now in the lead by a few seconds. I put in as big a surge as I was comfortable with, doing what I could to get something of a gap before the downhill and long finish on the grass, where I was sure he’d hold an advantage.

Unfortunately, the downhill was a bit too long, and he a bit too fast, to make the lead last. He went by without much fanfare and increased the lead substantially before we exited the trail back onto the grass. I put in a decent kick to close the final difference to two seconds, but it was all for show; there was no way I was catching him.

Despite the loss, it was an incredibly fun race and maybe the most interesting course I’ve raced on, with a little bit of everything. Many thanks to Jeff and others in the club for creating and sustaining this event. The winner – Jason Reilly – turned out to be a great guy who handled his first trail race without much trouble. A little more experience under his belt, and I’ll be lucky to be two minutes behind him. 

A few happy WTACers post-race.