2020 recap, Part II: Tying up loose ends (Social Distance Dash - Virtual 5K write-up)

Way back on May 30th, I competed in my only "virtual" race of 2020 (and hopefully of my life). Shortly thereafter, I wrote this post. For a reason beyond my grasp, I never published it...until now. As we say good-bye to 2020, here is the post on my final race of the year, almost exactly seven months ago.

It's a strange time to be a runner, especially one who centers much of his training around races. It's now mid-June, and there isn't an actual, live race in sight. My training has been fairly consistent, with a few minor hiccups (knee pain, a funky hamstring, and the usual hip issue) that required short stints on the DL. I've been reminding myself that, given that there isn't "something to train for" right now, I can afford to take the extra day off when my body requires it. On the other hand, I say back to myself, isn't this also the perfect time to take some risks to see what happens? If the risk doesn't pay off, and I end up making something hurt worse, then I can take that time off I'd promised myself. 

Now, it's important to consider that I'm risk-averse by nature, so what constitutes a risk for me is rather innocuous by normal standards. For instance, I might run 5 days a week instead of 4. Or go for a 12-mile run once a year. Recently, it's meant running through nagging pains -- with extra days off, no workouts, and a knee brace -- when I normally would have taken time off. I can't say it's paid off in any real way yet, though I seem to be getting over the injuries (and maintaining my mental health) despite the "aggressive" approach. 

The biggest (dumbest?) risk I took with this current knee injury was triggered by a race, actually. Not an important race, nor one that anyone outside of a small circle would even know about, nor one with any spectators or other runners. But a race nonetheless, and given the state of racing in 2020, I couldn't resist the temptation. This was the first (and hopefully only) Amgen 'Social Distance Dash 5K' organized by the local Amgen Rhode Island running club. 

Given that it was a virtual race, we were allowed a seven-day range during which we could do it. This setup offers tremendous flexibility that, I thought, would let me race under ideal conditions. A few days before the racing window opened, I began monitoring the weather forecast, with an eye toward the predicted wind speed and direction. I was balancing this against my own running schedule and recovery. I was planning a long run on Sunday - the first day of the racing window - which would mean I wouldn't race on Monday or possibly Tuesday, depending on how I felt. However, it was shaping up to be a windy week, and Tuesday was the best bet from that perspective. I told myself I'd wait to see how I felt on Tuesday and go from there. 

Well, as you might have guessed, I didn't feel good. My legs were fine, but my knee began hurting terribly after Sunday's long run, and I couldn't run, let alone race. The particular knee issue is one I'm familiar with, so I knew that I'd need a few days completely off from running and then would have to wear one of those knee bands you sometimes see on old men playing basketball at the Y. This is where part I of the risk-taking happened. I decided to run on Wednesday so that I'd have time to assess my knee afterward. It felt OK on that run but was quite sore afterward. Thursday was another day off. I wasn't yet sure if racing was a smart idea, so I chose to do another easy run Friday.

Suddenly, it was Saturday. My window had dwindled to nothing. It was now or never. OK, yeah, I'm being a little dramatic, considering this was a meaningless virtual race; that's just how desperate I was for a little competition. 

The weather wasn't ideal (warm, very humid, breezy), and my knee was iffy, but I decided to go for it anyway. The other bit of flexibility afforded by the virtual race was its venue. I'd narrowed down my options to the middle school track and the bike path. I liked the idea of the track, since I could carefully monitor my pace, but it was likely to be windier than the bike path. The deciding factor, however, would be the presence of other humans. If the track was nearly empty, I'd run there. If not, I'd opt for the path. That the two were located within a few hundred feet of each other made this a convenient set of options.

I jogged the mile from my house to the track as a warm-up and was glad to see just one other person using it. However, she was occupying lane 1 at a pace that would mean I'd have to pass her nearly every lap. Maybe she'd see me and move to another lane, I thought. But, no, she was committed to it. I'd just have to deal.

My plan for the 'race' was to run 78 seconds per 400 for as long as I could. This was a somewhat arbitrary goal, but aren't they all? 

There wasn't much drama the rest of the way. The first mile was right on pace in 5:12. The second was 5:14, with a couple seconds lost due a lack of focus over the laps 7 and 8. I was realizing what a mental drag racing alone around the track is. I tried every psychological trick I could think of to avoid my tendency to continually calculate exactly how much of the race was left, but nothing worked. The two slower laps did snap me out of it a bit, and I was able to hit 78 again for laps 9-11. (This was also when my lane 1 friend left, so perhaps the better pacing was due to finally running the shortest distance around the track.)

My legs were seemingly tiring just as I needed to get the final push out of them. I modestly picked it up in the 12th lap to 74 seconds and then "kicked" home with a 34 final 200. The final time was 16:14 (rounded up to 16:15 on Strava). It's about as well as I could have hoped to do, given the circumstances and fitness level, so I'm happy from that perspective. Of course, I'm never totally satisfied with a race, virtually or not, so at least something was normal about this experience.

2020 recap, Part I: Trails

As 2020 winds down, I'm submitting a multi-part year-end recap. Each segment will cover some element of my year in running. The first of these is about trails - specifically, the trails I've started building around here. This post is almost certainly irrelevant to anyone but me, but isn't that what a blog is for? Anyway, you're here in the first place because you're procrastinating doing something more important, so why not stay for a few minutes? 

I grew up in a place with hundreds of miles of trails, nearly all of which were contained within the bounds of two large preserves. Access to those trails always required a drive -- a brief drive, but a drive nonetheless. Upon arriving in Rhode Island, I discovered a very different situation. Here. there are no preserves of the size or with the volume of trails of those in my hometown. Instead, there are many dozens of small trail systems scattered around the state. After some initial disappointment, I have since come to appreciate the variety of runs this has enabled. 

It has also led to fun route planning brain teasers in which I try map a run that includes as many trail systems as possible in a single run while minimizing time on pavement. This sometimes results in interesting runs but more often leads to me wishing there were trails in places where they do not exist. I now spend many of my runs examining the surrounding woods and thinking about where I'd put a trail if I had the ability to. 

During 2020, I finally decided to satisfy this craving by creating some short trails that I will describe in more detail below. Before I get to that, I would like to spend a few sentences on my own personal trail building code of conduct, since I suppose this discreet habit could be frowned upon, and I've tried to do this in as "right" a way as possible.

Rule #1: No Trespassing on any individual's property. In other words, I'm not going to cut a trail through your backyard. 

Rule #2: Don't build a trail just for the sake of building a trail; the trail should have a purpose. For instance, it connects two trails/properties together that otherwise wouldn't connect, or it adds meaningfully to the trail system it is part of. 

Rule #3: It should be benefit someone other than me. Every trail I build, of course, is a most selfish pursuit. However, I will not build a trail that only benefits me. Each trail should enhance the experience of at least one other person. This also means these trails are not meant to be secrets; they should be available and known to all.

The following sections describe the new trails and include labeled Strava heat maps to point of the locations of these trails, which are, of course, missing from more traditional maps.

Potter Wood SW loop

The nearest trails, a mere 200 yards from where I'm sitting right now, are in Potter Wood. This small preserve contains a labyrinth of trails concentrated around the main path - at one time a narrow paved road connecting South Road with Biscuit City. Given the volume of trails in there, I'd assumed all available space had been used, until one day, while looking at a parcel map of South Kingstown, I saw that the southwest corner of the property was entirely empty. On a scouting mission, I found this area to be quite nice, crisscrossed with stone walls, and with a magnificent glacial erratic sitting at its core. A couple months later, I'd cleared a trail covering most of the empty section of the woods, with a swing by the erratic, and connected it in three places to existing trails. For some time, I had the trail to myself, but this didn't last long. As part of the improvement work to the preserve, I'd received word that a new trail would be constructed. It wasn't until I ran on "my" trail again that I discovered the new trail would follow, almost exactly, its course. My trail would be legitimized! It was fun to watch the trail's usage increase and know that I'd helped create something that others would enjoy. 

Future option? 

I'd really like to make a short connection from the new trail over to the path that bridges Ventura Circle to the Biscuit City road network. This would greatly reduce the amount of pavement required to get from my house to the trails described in the next section. It's not totally self-serving, though. It would also give better access to the Potter Wood trails to people who live off those roads, as well as those over in the large development of Tefft Hill. I've already charted and mostly cleared this one, so it's just a matter of some finishing touches.

Kingston Water District loop / Tefft Historical Park

There is a small network of trails, mostly on private property but also spanning SKLT land, that connect White Horn and Berry Hill to the bike path. These trails careen down a small hill and weave through the ruins of the Tefft family homestead, which dates back to the 1600s and includes the possible grave site of the infamous Joshua Tefft. There isn't much room to add to the trails in here, but I was intrigued by a map I'd found of the Tefft Historical Park, which showed where many of the ancient features are located. There was one section of the land with some of those features on the SKLT property that had not been traversed, so I made a short path through it. Unfortunately, two large trees fell across the new trail earlier this year, so any hope I'd had of improving it have diminished.

Directly across the bike path from this area is land owned by the water district, which includes an old access road and what I believe to be the corridor once cleared for the water supply pipe. I explored that corridor and found it to be flanked, and in some cases completely enveloped, by large, lush rhododendrons. Earlier this year, I biked over there with a handsaw and cut back the growth to make a narrow passage from the bike path to the access road that exits on Ministerial. 

On the other side of the property is a nice, open woodland bordered by one of the many swamps in the area. Best of all, there are few briars, so it took just a single outing to make a simple loop trail along its perimeter. Combined with the other trails in the area, both new and existing, there are now enough to make for an interesting excursion off the bike path without the need for any repetition, which any self-respecting trail runner knows is simply unacceptable.

Future option?

A large portion of the SKLT property, to the east/southeast of the main trail, is without anything more than a small path that connects to a dirt road (but only if you're willing to cross through a gauntlet of warning / no trespassing signs). I'm interested in putting in at least on more trail in there and connecting it down to another small path that ultimately empties out onto the bike path. There were so many briars in there when I checked it out that I haven't had the ambition to go back yet. Still, I think it has potential for an interesting and varied trail or two.

Browning - South Shore connector

It was six or seven years ago, but I can still recall the amazement of stumbling upon a network of hidden dirt bike / ATV trails off Sand Plain Rd. on the western edge of South Kingstown. This was topped only by the excitement of realizing I could connect to these trails from Browning Woods. Fast forward to 2020, and the South Shore Village retirement community has since been placed directly on top of this area, completely reshaping it and messing with my sense of direction. Once I got the area sorted out in my head, I was pleased to see that instead of demolishing the old trails, the ownership decided to incorporate some of them into the community's recreational offerings, even improving the footing, which had been horrid before. I attempted to find the old connector to Browning, but it was overgrown and unrunnable in places. Rather than reestablishing this trail, I searched for another route, eventually finding the remains of an old farm/woods path with a small berm built on the wetlands between the two sets of trails. It was a perfect route for its simplicity and brevity and now gives easy access (albeit with a short, steep climb) to Browning from the South Shore trails. I don't think anyone I haven't told about it has used it yet, but I hope it can make for a better option for South Shore residents who would otherwise need to walk on Shannock Rd. to reach the Browning trails.

Some other possible future options

Peckham - Biscuit connector

Long before there was the URI bike path extension, cutting along the edge of Peckham Farm, I envisioned a path from the Biscuit City preserve over to the fields and dirt roads of Peckham, which I'd dreamed of being a haven for soft-footed workout. The new bike path has changed this to an extent, but I'd still like to see this one through, if for no other reason than it would create an interesting loop option for anyone using the Biscuit City trails. However, there are two big obstacles here. The first is water. A wide stream (White Horn Brook) flows directly through the area I'd need to cross. My initial exploration hasn't revealed any easy route across, so doing so will require some creativity. Then, once you're over (going from Peckham toward Biscuit City), the next section is very wet to the point of being impassable. Even if I were to conquer those, there's the matter of the second obstacle: the briars. They are absolutely everywhere, as if there were a maximum security prison in the vicinity. I am undeterred, though. I will find a route through it this year.

CCMS woods

Finally, I would really love to add to the small set of trails at Curtis Corner. Just look at all that empty space! The only deterrent here is that the land is surrounded by houses of people who might not be as excited about new trails as I am. I think this is probably the least likely to happen of all the trails floating around my mind at the moment.

Charlestown Chili 5K

Without the now-defunct winter trail series, there's a real void in southern RI wintertime racing. Steve Brightman partially filled that void with the resurrection of the Resolution Beach race in early January. It wasn't technically a race (hence no blog post, though you'd be forgiven for thinking that I just hadn't gotten around to it yet), but it temporarily patched that hole in my life. The first real race of the year, however, would be the Charlestown Chili 5K at Ninigret Park.

Ninigret is the largest flat place I can think of in Rhode Island, making it a primo location for a fast 5K. Johnny created, measured, and marked this course, which consists of one big loop bookended by two small almost-loops.

The first thing I noticed upon arriving was that it was awfully breezy out. With the wide open expanses on this course, we'd inevitably have to battle the wind in some sections. During a warm-up with Jonny, we noticed that there were a couple of tough wind-in-the-face stretches. But the wind direction was as favorable as it could have been, given the course layout, so we considered ourselves lucky and promised not to complain about it too much.

Other than Jonny and Jeff, I didn't really know many people at the race, though the turnout was substantial (over 100) for a low-key race in January. Jonny mentioned there were a couple of fast high schoolers there, and it didn't take long to spot at least one of them, as he was shirtless on the starting line, and only a high schooler would do that.

Race start. What is Jonny eyeing?? [All pics from Jana.]

At the start of the race, I went out just ahead of the high school kids and ran fairly evenly with them for the first little loop around the Senior Center. I got some separation on the long bike path straightaway, which was my plan, since I didn't want anyone to draft off me when we turned into the wind directly after the water station at the end of the straightaway. No free rides!

Around some tight turns, I peeked back to get a sense of the gap, which appeared to be growing. The bike path is followed by a lap of the criterium bike track, which seems to take an eternity to circuit. I could see the other runners at a couple points around the track and was feeling like the lead was safe. Still, I wanted a solid time and kept pushing the pace as much as I could.

There's one more tough windy segment from the crit course back to the bike path, and after that it's smooth sailing back toward the finishing loop. Once I hit that loop, I did my best to "run the sh*t out of the tangents," as Jonny had eloquently instructed me to do during our warm-up. My watch was all over the place during the final mile (at one point, it appeared to be adding one second to my pace for every stride I took), so I'd stopped looking at it, and was therefore quite surprised to see the clock in the 15:40s as I stomped toward the finish. The official finishing time was 15:50, which, if true, would be a road 5K PR. More on this in a moment.

Disbelief on my face as I spot the finishing clock. 

A nice shot of the WTAC jersey beside the finishing time. 

Jonny and Jeff both had great races in 4th and 5th, and some new-to-me WTAC members weren't too far behind them, which was cool to see. I got to know them a bit better during the cooldown, as we bonded over removing the miles of red tape that Jonny had painstakingly laid down to mark the course. And was it ever a beautifully marked course!

Oh, that course...  Wheel-measured by the meticulous Jonny multiple times, yet with an elusive tenth of a mile undetected by GPS watches of all makes and models. There are certainly many twists and turns, the kind of which are known to wreak havoc on our not-so-trusty watches. But were there enough to take off a full tenth? Or, maybe I was in shape to run a 15:50. After all, I'd run 16:06 a couple of months ago on a similarly flat and windy course. I am probably fitter now, so it's possible. I want to believe it. I want that 15:50 to be real. But I think I need to do it again before I can accept it. Or maybe I'll just get a pair of Vaporflys of AlphaNext or whatever the next thing in this never-ending series of not-quite-illegal shoes are called. But then again, would running a 15:50 in those be any different than doing it on a short course?