USATF XC Nationals

Let me start by saying this: I might never again have a race go as unexpectedly well as this one did. I don't know if it was the weather, my training, the strategy, the course, the way the others ran, what I ate for breakfast, or some combination of those, but things fell into place perfectly as the race evolved, and, somehow, by the time I reached the finish line, I had won the darn thing. I'll briefly walk through my thoughts leading up to the race and then use the many pictures taken to tell the story of the race.

I typically enter a race with a fairly concrete time or place goal in mind. Not this time. Given that this was a cross country race on a course I hadn't competed on in 20 years (20 years and 9 days, to be precise), I had very little idea what pace would be appropriate. And my ability to compete with a mostly unknown-to-me field of runners was, well, unknown to me. The only thing I set my sights on was running a smart first mile (not getting caught up in the usual overenthusiastic XC starting sprint that I assumed would happen) and then trying to maintain that same effort and competing the rest of the way.

[NOTE: There's a great blog - RunningProf.com - that covers these big national masters events. Prior to this one, and unbeknownst to me, he posted a thorough preview of the race and its main contenders. I'm glad I hadn't seen this, or I almost certainly would have been less ambitious in my pacing and moves.]

One other twist was that I'd be running my first race for the HFC Striders, a club based in SE Massachusetts that I'd joined after the Bobby Doyle 5M in August. I'd had mixed feelings about signing up for a different club (which required being "released" by the WTAC, like I'm some kind of discontented baseball player no longer wanting to play for the team who'd signed me). But I was assured that I could remain a member of WTAC and simply compete for HFC is the USATF races, where my official membership would matter. Once that was clarified, I was excited to a join a team I'd been reading about for years in New England Runner. There was something scrappy about HFC that I'd always liked. Maybe it is the quirky name (HFC stands for "Hurtin' for Certain") or the David vs. Goliath nature of their Masters division rivalry with the BAA, but this was definitely the right kind of team for me. I also loved that they are very much a community-based organization with close ties to their local area. It might not be my community, but it's that spirit that I love. In any case, HFC has a strong Masters team, and my main goal would be contributing in some positive way to that team's outcome at the race.

Getting to the course quite early, I brought up the race website on my phone to confirm the check-in time and location. Scrolling down the page, my stomach nearly dropped out of my body. Proof of vaccination is required to race! While I'm happily vaccinated, my paper card (which I still can't believe is the way we show evidence of vaccination in this country) was sitting on my desk at home, nearly two hours from here. I was mentally preparing to drive back home and call it a day when I looked again at the website and saw that a picture of the card would suffice. No one was at my house, so I couldn't ask Katie to take a picture, but I remembered I'd had to take a picture of the card to submit to my employer a few months ago. Had I saved that photo on my phone or deleted it? Rapidly scanning the thumbnails, I spotted it! Crammed between pictures of the dog and a Jenga tower (don't ask) was the card. Fortunately, this would be the most stressful part of the day. 

I found my new team, introduced myself, and hopped into their warmup jog. It reminded me of college XC, with little packs of people wearing similar colors jogging around different parts of the course. I made a quick connection with one of my new teammates when we discovered that my high school teammate and friend was his college teammate and friend. The New England running world is small.

Before long, we were on the line, ready to roll.

The race starts across a big open field that has for decades tempted runners to run too hard too soon. I started off conservatively and quickly found myself swarmed by other runners as we made the hard right turn at the end of the field. I tried counting the people in front of me but there was too much movement to get an "official" count (I was somewhere in the 15-20th range). While we descended gradually on the first part of our initial circuit, I focused on keeping myself in check and not worrying about anything else.

My only goal for the first mile was to feel comfortable and in control. I methodically picked off some of the faster starters during the second half mile. Here, as we approach the mile marker, you can see my red hat toward the back of this chase pack. The GPS mile split was 5:04 (race clock was 5:09 or so). 

Just before the mile mark, I passed a bunch of guys (including a solid BAA pack) and eventually found myself at the head of the chase pack in the picture above, with three other guys ahead. I opened my stride a bit on the downhill before we hit the infamous Bear Cage Hill, passing a guy I recalled being an outstanding high school runner in New York in the late '90s, and started the hill the 3rd place.

On the hill, I pulled in behind teammate and Masters stud TJ Unger. I kept things smooth over the hill, not wanting to overextend myself. The leader (John Poray from Indiana Elite) was not even in my thoughts at this point -- he looked extremely smooth and fast the last time I'd seen him. At the top of the hill, I pulled even with TJ and urged him to come with me to for the lead. Despite saying this, I didn't harbor any thought of potentially winning. I was very much zoned in on simply running a smart race.

After the short and steep downhill, I suddenly found myself closing on the leader. The gap got smaller as we came around past the finish area with a mile-plus still to go. Taking the lead so far from the finish would put a big ol' target on my back for an awfully long time, and I'm much more comfortable playing the role of the hunter late in races. But a pass was inevitable, and it came much sooner than I'd hoped. Now it was time to turn the screw and see how everyone - myself included - would respond. Mile 2 split was 5:16.

 

The final mile takes you into the "Wilderness" loop -- a dirt bridle path with a long, gradual uphill to start and then a twisty return back to the fields. I tried not to let up on the hill and then accelerated after each turn so that there would be more space between me and the other guys each time they regained a line of sight. There are a couple of 90+ degree turns that give a chance to check behind you without looking back, and I miraculously wasn't able to see anyone at these spots. A few friendly fans told me the lead was up to 40 meters with about a half mile to go. 

The last part of the race involves a brutally long loop around the big field where the race starts and ends. You can see the finish line from so far away, you find yourself simultaneously wanting to start your kick too early and throw your arms up in exasperation. It was right around where this picture was taken that someone shouted, "In two minutes, you'll be a national champion." I was so focused on executing my race, it hadn't even occurred to me that I was about to win, let alone the significance of it.

One more turn until the finish. I was sure at this point that I wouldn't be caught and was able to relax and enjoy the moment (though the look on my face might make you think otherwise). Mile 3 split was 5:09.

Nearly there, I'm eyeing the clock. Final time was 16:22, with the last 0.2(! the course was a tad long on GPS) at 4:33 pace.

This picture found its way to all sorts of websites and newsletters. The only thing I'm thinking at this point is that I shouldn't lift my arms to take the tape so as not to appear to be raising them in triumph.  

So, instead, I ended up looking like I'd been caught by a very large lasso. 

There was a brief awards ceremony afterward. I took the opportunity to get to know some of my new teammates. 

3/5 of HFC's scoring members. We placed 2nd in the 40+ division, just 4 points behind the BAA. Mike Daniels was just a week removed from a marathon and still ran well to score for the team.

Taken before the race, here's the full 40+ squad.

This was an incredibly fun and completely unexpected experience. Reflecting on the race, it unfolded exactly how it needed to for my approach to work. If others had gone out slower, the outcome might have been different. Also, my legs have possibly never felt so good. When it came time to reel in the other guys, it seemed much easier than it should have. I don't expect to ever have such an effortlessly strong race again but will cherish the memory of this one forever.

The Running Prof also has a thorough recap of both the individual race and the team race. For additional info, see the Results, USATF write-up, and Finish line video