Running Raw

Tim VanOrden’s Running Raw Times – March 5th, 2010

A Huge hello to all my friends and supporters of the Running Raw Project.

In This Issue:
• The Year in Review
• 2010 To Do List
• The Race Report
• Running Raw Apparel & Lecture DVDs
• The Running Raw Buzz
• The Training Log
• Upcoming Events
• Your Support
• In Conclusion

The Year in Review?
Many people think that I live a charmed life. I get to run, hike, race, travel, talk to people and basically do whatever I want. What could be better? In many regards this is true. I have chosen to pursue something that I believe in strongly, something that I believe can make a difference. There is great freedom in that choice. But there is also great responsibility and sacrifice. Dedicating one’s life to a purpose, project or passion requires a new skill set, a new way of managing time, energy and resources. These are skills that as of yet, I do not possess. I want to say yes to it all. I want to be all that I can be… all the time. I want to test the limits of possibility. I want to help everyone. I want health and happiness to be the norm. Ironically, it is these very well intentioned desires that have always been my downfall. I am constantly creating new branches without checking to see if the trunk can bear their collective weight. Some skills take longer to develop than others.

“You can be anything you want to be. You just can’t be everything you want to be all at once. That is what a lifetime is for.” – Randy Dean

When I first started this project over four years ago, my intention was to ask questions, test limits and create a positive example. Some time ago, I dropped the veil of eternal positivity and replaced it with transparency. I believe that you can learn as much from my failures as you can from my successes. In order to be a true and valid example, one must reveal all of their light and dark. Perhaps the real value of Running Raw has nothing to do with an athlete eating an uncooked, plant based diet, but rather with the trials of someone who goes to bed every night wanting to quit, and who wakes up every morning recommitting to something he does not think he can accomplish. Whatever the case may be, you can count on me telling it like it is… Even when I look the fool.

Hardy seeds were planted in 2009, now the time has come to tend the garden.

2010 To Do List:
• Find a manager to book and organize speaking events.
• Complete a book on diet and fitness.
• Complete a recipe book.
• Get the Running Raw Team off the ground
• Begin training for the mile.

The Race Report – The Chill of Victory and the Agony of the Feet:
“By the end of roughly an hour of stumbling and gasping my way through three miles of torture, I had learned what snowshoeing is really like – melting cold snow all over your body and the hardest work you’ll ever do to “run” at a 20 min/mile pace. But it’s also a heck of a lot of fun, which is why I’m looking forward my 5th season of snowshoe racing.” – Jamie Howard, WMAC participant

The new year started off with a bang as I entered my 3rd season of competing in the WMAC/Dion Snowshoe Race Series. With 51 total races, 18 of which are points races, this snowshoe series is now the largest in the world. To my advantage, the vast majority of the points races are within an hour of my house in Southern Vermont. In fact the first race of this year’s competition took place in the mountains behind my house in Woodford, VT. An exceptionally deep field of athletes from all over New England came out to start off this series with a bang. An all out sprint to the finish with overall series champion Jim Johnson of Salem, NH, earned me a close 2nd. Time and again this season, I have proven the power of a raw vegan diet by winning two series races and earning four more 2nd place finishes. With three more points races to go, I stand in 2nd place overall behind Jim Johnson, and have the Master’s (40 plus) title locked up with eight victories.

• Crave the Blizzard Snowshoe Race
Less than 24 hours after having returned home from the Greylock Glen Snowshoe race, I found myself back on the road to compete in the 4th WMAC/Dion Snowhoes series race – Brave The Blizzard in Guilderland, NY. Upon transitioning from the winter wonderland of Vermont into New York’s more temperate Hudson Valley, a color flashed into my mind – Brown. Brown as in dead grass, leafless trees and leaf covered forest floors. Brown as in no snow. The only white to be seen were the sparsely placed, white washed colonial farm houses that decorated my morning’s drive… Read The Full Post

• Empire State Character Building
If I were to choose one sport to define myself as an athlete, it would be stair climbing. As much as I love the challenge and scenery of mountain running and snowshoe racing, neither has impacted me as profoundly as running up the dim, dusty, and denatured stairwells of America. Ironically, it is the sport that I like the least. In fact, I dread it. My relationship with stair climb races could be summed up with the following statement – It is better to have climbed than to climb… Read The Full Post

• US National Snowshoe Championships
Tomorrow, the nation’s top snowshoe racers will converge on Syracuse, NY to compete in the 10th annual US Snowshoe Championships. Snowshoe racing has become one of America’s fastest growing sports, with new series popping up all over the country. Elite athletes from many different sporting disciplines have strapped on shoes to improve their Winter fitness. This year’s championships will be the most competitive in the event’s ten year history. With such a deep field of talent, I’m hoping that my preparation is enough to earn me a spot in the top 15 overall, and top 3 in the Master’s category (40+). Anything can happen over 6.2 miles of steep, hilly shoeing in deep white fluff.

Check out the course profile HERE – Insanely Hilly!

Running Raw  Apparel Sale!!
In order to raise funds for my trip to run the Big Climb in Seattle on March 21st, I’m lowering the price of Running Raw tees to $15 + shipping until March 15th. Now you can be green, save green and help me raise green by representing the Running Raw movement with a super comfortable, super sustainable, super cool Running Raw tee. Men’s and women’s styles are available. Due to pre-shrinkage, men please order one size larger, and women order two sizes larger than you would normally wear. You can check them out here – http://runningraw.com/store.html

New Lecture DVD Available:
As per your requests, I have created a DVD of my November 2009 talk entitled “Raw Myths, Magic and Misconceptions“.

What does “raw” really mean? Why are there so many differing and conflicting views of raw? How can one be confident that they have made the right choice? This lecture covers the latest scientific research and how it applies to raw diets of all types. Many of the myths and misconceptions of a raw diet will be busted in this talk.

The price of this DVD is $10 + shipping. To purchase this or any other DVD, click this link – http://runningraw.com/store.html

The Running Raw Buzz:
• Turn back the clock. My very first Running Raw interview, reposted on GLiving – http://gliving.com/tim-vanorden-explains-the-running-raw-project/ – SOOOO much has changed since then. I actually find this interview to be quite embarrassing, but it’s always good to go back and see where I came from.
• Vegan athletes profiled – http://www.chicagonow.com/blogs/chicago-eats-allergy-free/2010/01/to-be-vegan-or-not-and-some-athletes-who-are.html
• One of the contributors of Runner’s World magazine decided to drive up from NYC and enter last week’s WMAC/Dion Snowshoe race at Moody Springs. It was the toughest race I’ve done and my hardest fought victory – http://rwdaily.runnersworld.com/2010/03/karma-is-a-cruel-mistress.html#more-2222

The Training Log:
With the arrival of Winter comes the possibility of numerous cross-training activities. Instead of the constant pounding of running on roads, a new world of soft white bliss opens itself up to those willing to take on its challenges. Although my mileage has still remained on average under 30 miles a week, the time that I’ve been putting in has increased. Instead of speedy runs on the road, I choose to put on my big Winter boots or snowshoes and slog through the abundant ‘fluffo blanco’. This type of training may not increase leg turnover, but it supplies a massive boost to strength, endurance, and core durability.

Late December saw the beginning of the WMAC/Dion Snowshoe Race Series which gave me the opportunity to get extreme, weekly workouts on snowshoes. These races have helped me to race my way into phenomenal shape in a short period of time. If you want to build mental and physical endurance for running, as well as have a great time in an inspiring landscape, strap on a pair of snowshoes and up the ante.

In the last newsletter I mentioned the inclusion of a new training regimen called Tabata. I’m happy to announce that I have maintained this difficult exercise protocol and have seen rapid and consistent improvement each week. My strength has more than tripled since beginning this program in late September. Now only two months shy of my 42nd birthday, I am having my best results yet. The future of Running Raw is looking bright.

Here is an example of what a Tabata set looks like – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GWXsrQZ_ak

Upcoming Events:
• March 6th – National Snowshoe Championships – Syracuse, NY
• March 18th – Presentation in Seattle, WA – Diet & Peak Performance
• March 21st - Big Climb Seattle – The largest stair climb race in the world.
*** Please help me raise money for the Big Climb HERE
• March 21st – Presentation in Bellingham, WA – Diet & Peak Performance

**Possible March presentation dates in Vancouver, BC and Victoria, BC – Please check http://runningraw.com for details

Paying it Back and Forward:
Please support my sponsors Larabar, Nutiva, Blendtec, Dion Snowshoes, Garmin, Excalibur, and West Coast Labels.

Your Support:
Your donations help more than you can imagine. Even very small contributions help to pay for event registrations, travel, etc.! Thank you in advance for your support. Your generosity allows me to do what I do and hopefully touch lives in the process. You can make your donation through http://paypal.com to the address donate@runningraw.com. No amount is too little, and every dollar is greatly appreciated.

In Conclusion:
If you’re excited about Running Raw and would like to be a part of the team, please get in touch. I’m always looking for new contributors, technical help, sponsorship and enthusiastic athletes to help make this project all it can be.

Please pass this newsletter along to anyone that you think might be interested in this journey. If you have any suggestions on how to make runningraw.com better, please pass them along.

Thank you for your continued support.
With Love and gratitude

Tim VanOrden

Breakfast: 6am (4 hours till the start) – 24oz Green Smoothie; Kale, Banana, Blueberry, Dulse, Raw Honey and well water.

With the Empire State Building Run Up (the unofficial world championships of stair climbing) only 2 weeks away, my training has been fast and furious. Normally, I would take it easy leading up to a weekend with back to back snowshoe races, but with the ESB looming large I’ve had to push myself to the limit and beyond.

Needless to say, my legs were spent before I even toed the line in Adams, MA at the Greylock Glen snowshoe race on Saturday. Based on my performance on the steep climbs at the Turner Trail snowshoe race last weekend, I was not expecting a great result. The steep, mile long climb at Greylock Glen would be a quad buster and my quads were already busted.

This race was sure to attract a top field of athletes from around New England being the 3rd race in the highly competitive WMAC/Dion Snowshoe series. An ever increasing number of standout road and track runners have been showing up at these events looking to test their mettle in a new ‘running’ discipline. Shortly before the start, I spotted my CMS teammates,  Jim “undefeated” Johnson warming up with top master Dave Dunham and trail powerhouse Tim Mahoney. Further surveillance detected 2009 Wildman Biathlon winner Ross Krause doing sprints on the road, clad in biking attire. Out of the corner of my eye I spied a pair of lean, efficient ‘gazelles’ swiftly approaching on their warmup. As they moved closer I recognized one of them as top trail runner and track standout Greg Hammett. They stopped, we shared hellos and Greg said “do you know Mark?”. I shook Mark’s hand and then it quickly dawned on me – This was Mark Miller. The same Mark Miller that won the New England trail running championships in 2008 and 2009 and has clocked 4:02 in the mile and 14:18 for 5k. My mind started to do quick calculations and concluded that I’d be lucky to crack the top 8 in this race.

As we lined up at the start, WMAC’s Ed Alibozek gave us the pre-race details – Follow the red tape, follow the yellow arrows, do not cross the yellow tape, and watch out for the bridge crossing – there are planks missing and you could fall through. Ready. Set. Go!

Race favorite, Jim Johnson burst into the lead with Mark Miller hot on his trail. Greg Hammett tucked in behind them and I moved into 4th. The pace was very fast. The bridge crossing proved to be quite  treacherous as we danced on our snowshoes trying to miss the gaps and avoid certain injury, but yet maintain pace. Jim and Mark gradually pulled ahead. I could see them trade off the lead a good 20 seconds in front of me. Greg was falling off the pace, but was still 12 seconds ahead. Then we hit the climb.

The trail was steep. So steep that Jim and Mark were within shot put distance in front of me. Greg split the difference. Jim’s legs were working away at the mountain like two pistons firing. Mark was trying to hang on but could not keep up the run and started power walking. Greg saw this and started walking himself. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My legs were on fire, but I picked up the pace, not about to miss this opportunity. I knew the hill would be done in about 6 minutes, which is not much longer than the torturous 5 minute Tabata sets I’ve been doing in training. So I bore down, gritted my teeth and ran. I quickly caught up to Greg and passed him. He offered a breathy “Go Tivo!”. Mark was now in my sights. I was closing the gap quickly. As the trail snaked around a switchback, I glanced back and saw that Dave (King of the climbs) Dunham was making ground on me and closing the gap. I pushed harder. The trail got steeper… and steeper. My legs screamed. My stomach was doing all that it could to hold my green smoothie breakfast down. Then we burst out of the single track and onto a snowmobile trail – heading down. Mark was only 5 seconds in front of me and he was laboring.

Filled with a sense of excitement, I charged after Mark with all the speed my wet noodle legs could muster. Never had I imagined that I’d be sprinting after a legend like Mark in a race. One might imagine that running downhill is easier than running uphill. From a metabolic (energy required) perspective this is quite true, but from a muscular perspective it’s the exact opposite. The force of impact on the quad muscles while running downhill is SEVERAL TIMES the force experienced while running uphill. Downhills tear the quads to shreds as the muscles instinctively try to put on the brakes. In other words, there is no recovery for the legs. Mark kept his distance on me, but was not pulling away. Suddenly the trail pitched down at a slope of 35 percent or more. I launched myself down the hill with reckless abandon hoping to gain a few seconds on Mark who was far more cautious. When I reached the bottom of the steep pitch and the course leveled out, I did not. The intense gravitational forces of my blitz had compressed my legs and nearly drove me into a squatting position. I could not stand upright. My legs were done. I shuffled for a bit and gradually got my legs to straighten, but their strength was gone. I could hear the chatter of snowshoes behind me and then like the sound of a train going by Greg Hammett flew past. The race was nearly over, but I was really struggling. There would be no end of race kick. My wobbly legs barely got me across the bridge crossing as we headed back up to the finish line.

Jim Johnson crushed the field. Mark was nearly a minute behind him in second. Greg was third 24 seconds behind Mark and I was another 17 seconds back in 4th place. Despite a wrong turn, Dave Dunham posted a solid 5th. I was very excited to have hung on to these amazing athletes as long as I did. A 4th place finish in this field was a huge accomplishment. But the weekend was not over and come Sunday morning I’d be back on the shoes again to face off against an amazing crew of New York athletes at the Brave The Blizzard snowshoe race.

Post race: 4 bananas, 1 orange.

Results can be seen here: http://www.coolrunning.com/results/10/ma/Jan16_Greylo_set1.shtml

GPS course profile here: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/22480885 – Click the “Elevation” tab at the bottom to see the vertical profile of the course.

Running Raw Summer Lecture Series

Thriving on a Raw Diet

Tuesday, July 21, 5:30 – 9:30 pm – Waltham, MA

Can one be an active raw vegan without resorting to expensive supplements, and “superfoods”? How does one get enough calories, protein, calcium and iron on a raw diet? Is vitamin B-12 supplementation necessary? Can one become too thin? Does this diet work in colder weather? Is it better to transition slowly or go 100% overnight?

These and many other questions will be answered in a well informed discussion that will cover these main topics:

• The Survival Paradigm
• Why The Standard American Diet is the Standard
• The Body as a Dynamic Landscape
• Human Nutritional Needs
• Human Fuel Systems
• Carbohydrates, Fats & Proteins Explained
• The Benefits of a Simple Foods Diet
The most difficult aspect of choosing any diet is that of convincing yourself that it is indeed the right choice. Change is stress, even when the change is positive. The vast majority of Americans blindly eat the Standard American Diet without ever questioning it’s role in one’s health. But obesity, heart disease, diabetes and cancer are on the rise and considered epidemic. Meanwhile, scientific journals are constantly touting the benefits of whole, raw fruits and vegetables, and yet the mention of a raw diet raises fear and concern. Raw foodists are often referred to as extremists. Even vegans consider the raw vegan diet to be extreme. This belief is counter-intuitive. In this lecture we will lay the groundwork for not only thriving on a raw diet but for being confident that you are thriving on a raw diet.

Location: UMA Waltham Center, 240 Beaver St., Waltham, MA. 02453 For directions, see Calendar of Events www.optimumhealthsolution.org.

Investment: $15 if you bring organic unprocessed raw/vegan/living plant-based food ready to serve dish to feed 8 people. Include recipe and serving implements. Pay an extra $10 if you dn’t bring food. Children under 18 free but must bring a dish for each child.

To purchase a ticket please click here: http://optimumhealthsolution.wordpress.com/
I hope to see you many of you there.

This past Sunday at the Northfield Mtn. Race (New England Trail Championships) I felt like I had been hit by a truck. The two weeks prior had been incredibly stressful. My grandfather passed away, two days before his 99th birthday after three days of struggling with congestive heart failure. I had been helping to organize the first ever stair climb up the Bennington Battle Monument, which included hosting three people coming from CA and IL, who could no longer stay at my house due to the large influx of relatives attending the funeral. I was in the midst of learning how to program in PHP and CSS to get my blog migrated to this very platform and losing lots of sleep in the process. OY!!!!! Needless to say, my spirits were low, my stress was high, and my training was minimal. So when I toed the line at Northfield, I really didn’t expect much. But as the race progressed and my legs decided to go on strike midway through the climb, I realized that even my low expectations were too high. I needed a break.

I took a day off on Monday and made sure I got some good sleep.

Tuesday, I punished myself with the hardest mountain workout I’ve done to date:

• AM: 2.5 times up Mt. Anthony in Bennington (1 mile, climbing 1,200 feet vertical for each ascent) for a total of 8.8 miles including warmup and warmdown

• PM: 8 miles of running and an 1,800 foot ascent of Bald Mountain in Bennington.

I slept very well Tuesday night and then decided to take off again on Wednesday to really let the workout sink in and recover well.

On Thursday, my new Running Raw teammate Michael Menard, invited me to Pittsfield, MA to run in the first annual Green Mile. This race was a one mile street race down the main drag of downtown Pittsfield. It had been raining all day and I really didn’t feel much like going outside and running or racing in the rain, but I had committed to it, so off I went.

Michael and I warmed up for a good 25 minutes before the race. I was hoping that this would shake off the stiff lead weights that had replaced my legs. The workout on Tuesday was still looming large in my quads and gluts. With the amount of rain coming down, the slipperiness of the street and the sludge in my legs, I really didn’t expect much. I had decided that this “race” would serve as a good mile repeat. Michael and I had agreed to head over to the Taconic High School track after the race to do a few more mile repeats to get some good speed work in.

A hardy crew of runners braved the cold rain to stand on the line and test themselves. After glancing down at their shoes, I surmised that there were four fast guys in this race. I can always tell how seriously someone is taking a race by seeing what shoes they are wearing. The best runners not only have on racing flats, but usually they are racing flats that have to be special ordered and can’t be found in stores. There were two pair of such shoes present on the line. I asked one of these gentleman what his goal time was. He replied that he had run a 4:15 at UMASS Amherst a month ago in track season. “Oh” I replied and kept my mouth shut until the gun went off.

Ten guys immediately jumped to the lead at the start. But only three of them had good shoes on, so I relaxed and set my pace in 11th. Surprisingly, my legs were feeling rather spry, so I kept only a second or two behind the leaders. One by one the men in front of me began to fade. There were only five of us left when we reached the quarter mile. “58, 59, 60, 61″ a woman shouted out as we hit the 402 meter mark. Had I really just run a 61 second quarter? I felt fine, but wow, that was fast!! In another hundred meters two more of the leaders faded. I pushed the pace. With the 804 meter sign in sight another man faded, leaving only the two guys with the best shoes a few strides in front of me. “2:12, 2:13, 2:14″ shouted a man at the half mile mark. Smartly I had slowed down a bit in the second quarter, but that was still pretty fast – I was on 4:28 pace. The leader began to break away. The second man was now only a few feet in front of me. I held strong through the three-quarter mile mark, having run 70 seconds for my third quarter. The man in front was now picking up the pace significantly and number two was in my sights. I felt suprisingly strong, So I pushed the pace again. It came down to the last 20 meters, when the 4:15 miler pulled ahead of me and nipped me by a little over a second. I finished in 3rd place in a time of 4:41, 16 seconds behind the winner. Pleased with my comfortable performance, I bounced back on the course and cheered Michael on to the finish. He set a new mile PR of 5:19 and was very pleased as well.

After inhaling several bananas and oranges, we ran the two miles over to the high school track.  My hope was to knock off two 5:05 mile repeats and call it a day… a good day. Two hundred meters into the first lap and the bananas and oranges in my stomach began to complain about the pace… So I backed off and ran an uncomfortable 5:28. Feeling a bit defeated, I told Michael that it might be best if we just get a good run in and not try to do any more repeats… After all, it was raining, we were cold, and bananas and oranges don’t make the best bedfellows.

My inner child had had enough of jogging laps after a mile or so, it wanted to play. I suggested to Michael that we do some 100 meter sprints… Not long enough to cause any digestive stress, but yet a great way to build speed. Besides, I hadn’t done a 100 meter sprint since 1986 when I competed in the Vermont state decathlon. At that time I had run a 13.2, which has remained my PR for the past 23 years.

On a wet and slippery track and without blocks to aid our start, there was little hope of breaking any speed records. I was really looking for another excuse to test out my Usain Bolt imagery that I had practiced on some very successful 200 meter repeats several weeks earlier. In the early 1980’s as I was learning how to cross country ski, I had the privilege of being on the same team as one of the greatest skiers in US history – Erik Vigsnes. He was poetry in motion. I was a lame duck trying to perform ballet. Whenever I got the chance, I would watch Erik ski… I would feel his rhythm… Feel his strength and relaxation… I would imagine what it felt like to ski with such grace and with such little effort… I would then put that feeling into my body and posture and try to emulate it… Not how he looked, but how he must feel. That practice has been one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever given myself. I’ve used it time and time again in many disciplines in my life – taking on another person’s feelings and moving inside of that experience. During the 2008 Olympics I sat awestruck as I watched Usain Bolt demolish the 100m world record with the most relaxed form I have ever seen. Since that time, I’ve watched that race over and over again, as I admired his form. I now had another model to emulate.

“Go” I shouted, and Michael and I took off. My arms and legs were shooting about furiously. It was not a pleasant experience nor a pretty sight. I clocked a 13.9, which was quite surprising under these conditions… But I wanted more. On the second repeat I remembered my Usain Bolt model and “bolted” into a much more powerful, and much longer stride… controlled and smooth. It felt fabulous. My speed increased throughout the 100m and I crossed the line in the fastest time I’ve ever run – 12.9 seconds. Twenty minutes later I used Mr. Bolt again to run a very comfortable 29.1 second 200 meters. I can’t wait to bring him into all my of workouts now.

Speed works… But only if you work the speed.

The first potluck of the Berkshires of MA, Southern VT and the Capital Region of NY (BeVeNe) was a huge success. Fifteen great people attended our first event, which was hosted by Michael and Ginger Menard in Pittsfield, MA. There was plenty of great food and fun conversation. Raw picnics and hikes will be happening in the very near future. Click here to be a part of this group.

As the Mt. Washington race looms ominously on the horizon only two weeks away, I’ve been a bit nervous about my readiness for the event. Although I have been training more these last few months than at any time during this journey, my legs just haven’t felt fresh and fast in quite some time. Both the Wachusett Mtn. and Whiteface Mtn. races left me feeling less than prepared as my legs gave out in both races long before my lungs did. Perhaps it’s a factor of my heavy training load combined with the lack of tapering in my training leading up to these races. Whatever the case, I was excited to test my mettle against New England’s best at Northfield Mountain. Dave Dunham invited me down the day before the race to help him mark the course. I saw it as an opportunity to familiarize myself with the terrain and get a little home field advantage.

On a short warmup with Dave, he pointed out all the hotshot runners that were in attendance. There was Mark Miller who has run a 14:00 5k earlier this year, Ryan Carrara who won the Wachusett Mtn. Race two weeks prior and was second at the New Bedford Half Marathon in a time of 1:08:07. Josh Ferenc, a 30:00 10k runner and 3rd place finisher at last year’s US Mtn. Running Championships. Erik Nedeau a sub 4 minute miler… yeah, you heard right. Justin Fyffe 2nd place at the Pack Monadnock 10 miler. Ben Nephew, one of the top trail and mountain runners in New England for the past 10 years. Greg Hammett, a former college standout who is still laying down some very fast times. Jim Pawlicki, 2nd place at the XTERRA Merrimack River Trail Race. Todd Callaghan, one of New England’s best and most consistent trail runners. Jason Bryant from the mountains of North Carolina, who is one of the top mountain runners in the country and a member of the La Sportiva team. Then of course there is Dave himself, who is now one of the nation’s top masters racers.

For those of you that follow my blogs and videos regularly, you might have noticed that I have a tendency to go out too hard in most races and then pay the price later on. This is not a habit that I want to continue, so when the gun sounded I let the lead pack take off. I have been logging heart rate data for all my races over the past two years and have noticed a trend: If I get my heart rate into the 170’s in the first half mile I will have poor results, but if I can keep my heart rate in the mid to high 160’s I will avoid bonking later in the race. So when Dave Dunham pulled up next to me in the first quarter mile (Dave is my barometer for proper race pacing), I looked at my watch and saw that I was in the low 160’s. This was a perfect start for me and I even had some room to speed up if I wanted to… and I did.

At the half mile point I made a move on Ben Nephew and Jim Pawlicki (both great mountain runners, whom I’ve never beaten), and quickly gapped them. When I hit the one mile mark, my watch read 5:25, which is fast for the first mile of a 10.3k mountain race, but my heart rate was only at 168. I was feeling good. The course began to climb more substantially in the second mile, but I kept a swift pace and passed two more runners. Although the leaders, Mark Miller and Ryan Carrara were moving farther ahead with every step, I was gaining ground on the other racers in front of me.

My watch read 6:14 at the 2 mile mark. A moment later, my heart rate read 176 as I pulled up alongside Josh Ferenc. I was surprised that he had fallen away from the leaders, and even more surprised that I was now running at his side and about to pass him. We hit a very steep climb at around 2.5 miles and Josh had had enough of my brazenness and picked up the pace. I didn’t want to risk redlining, so I let him go. Greg Hammett was not far ahead and I set my sights on catching up to him on the climb.

The 3rd mile was the hardest, with several hundred of feet of climbing coming in waves of steep ascents. Even though my heart rate was a perfect 176 and my breathing was quite relaxed, my legs were beginning to tire. I clocked 7:34 for the 3rd mile and was 10 seconds behind Greg and now 20 behind Josh. The final .7 miles of climbing were more than I could comfortably handle. My legs were now complaining loudly and my pace was slowing. Greg and Josh were moving farther ahead and I could hear Jim Pawlicki and Todd Callaghan moving up on me.

My goal for this race was to make it to the top of the mountain in a good position (which I had done), and then take advantage of my crazy downhill running skills for the remainder of the race to make up ground on a few of the runners in front of me. As I headed towards the 4 mile mark I was moving quickly, but on wobbly legs and Jim and Todd were rapidly closing in on me. Even though we had reached the top of the mountain, there were a few more ups to accompany the downs in the final 2.7 miles.

My legs were feeling better as began the 5th mile. Greg Hammett was now far enough ahead that I could no longer see him, and Todd was right on my heels, with Jim not far behind. I let loose on the downhill, and invited gravity to take my body down the mountain at a reckless speed. The trail was smooth dirt so I wasn’t worried about tripping on rocks or roots. Todd was matching my stride, so I leaned forward and amped it up another notch. I could feel the toll that the quad shredding downhill pace was having on my legs, I hoped I would have enough for the last few uphills before the finish. I clocked 4:45 for mile 5.

With 3/4 of a mile to go we came out of the woods and began to run down the power lines. In the distance I could now see Ryan Cararra and Mark Miller fighting it out for the lead, Erik Nedeau solidly in 3rd place, Justin Fyffe in 4th, Josh Ferenc in 5th, and surprisingly Greg Hammett a lot closer to me than I thought in 6th. We had made up a lot of ground on him on the steep downhills. The power lines featured lots of rolling ups and downs where one could accelerate, which is what I did. I wanted to catch Greg, and I was going to lay it all on the line to do so. Todd had his sights set on me and shot past me on one of the short ups. I then passed him on the next down. This cat and mouse game went on for half a mile as we switched positions and pushed each other along.

When we hit 6 miles we were at the bottom of a steep hill that rose some 30+ feet. From my memory of the course the day before, this was the final uphill before the gradual downhill to the finish. I was determined to catch Greg, so I rocketed up the hill leaving Todd quickly behind. I moved within 10 yards of Greg as I summited the hill, but I was not greeted with a friendly view from the top. One hundred meters away lie the last hill of the race, and it was longer and steeper than the hill I had just spent my last drops of glycogen on. I was broken. My pace slowed, my stomach turned, and my legs wobbled. Todd quickly caught me and moved by. Greg was moving farther ahead now as well, and my chances of reeling him in were gone. I crested the hill and did my best to keep a strong pace to the line. Somehow I managed to stay within 3 seconds of Todd at the finish. I crossed in 8th place in a time of 38:25. More importantly, I had won the title of New England Trail Running Champion in the Master’s division and as Dave Dumham informed me a bit later, I had broken the master’s course record by an amazing 57 seconds. I can’t wait to see what I can do on fresh legs at the National Championships on Mt. Washington.

See the video for the Northfield Mountain Race HERE.

Over the past two years, it has become clear to me that New England is the epicenter of trail running in the United States. This tiny region of the country boasts the greatest number of trail races and the best talent you can find anywhere. Many of the top trail racers in the country call this area home. When the snow finally clears in April, the trail racing season begins. The Xterra Merrimack River (pronounced “Rivah”) trail race in Andover, MA signals the beginning of that season. This challenging 10 mile race features scenery second to none, hills to challenge the toughest quads, water, and MUD. Just as the Japanese have a distinct 5th flavor known as “umami”, New England has a distinct 5th season – MUD Season. It’s impossible to run in New England in April without getting wet and muddy.

Dave Dunham was kind enough to let me stay at his place in Bradford, MA, so that I wouldn’t have a 3 hour drive in the morning. Kevin Tilton from North Conway, NH was also staying at the house. They both turn in quite early (unlike myself, who refuses to adopt east coast time), so I found myself in bed by 10pm. I awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of heavy rain on the roof of the house. I’m not a big fan of getting wet while running, so my mind began to spin yarns about the perils that would await in the morning – April showers steal Tim’s powers. The rain continued till early morning making the course very soggy and boggy. In one spot, the river had even overflown it’s banks, making for a treacherous 20 foot knee deep water crossing.

At the gun, Kevin Tilton jumped right out in front and never let go of his lead. Kevin has been one of the top mountain and trail racers in the country for the last few years, and looks to turn in some very impressive performances this year. I wasn’t sure how much endurance I’d have in a 10 mile race with steep climbs, so I settled into 6th place at the start. The 5:20 pace felt good, so I put it in cruise control for the first 3 relatively flat miles. At the beginning of the 4th mile the hills began. After rocketing down the first of the steep downhills we came full speed upon a wooden plank bridge that was leaning to the right. This would have been difficult to negotiate in dry conditions, but the rain had turned the thin film of moss and algae that coated the bridge into greased lightning. The first step I took on the bridge had my feet flying out from under me. I was horizontal in the air before i crashed down hard on my knees on the bridge, then bounced backward into the rocky stream 3 feet below. The intense pain filled me with rage as I scrambled out of the brook and back onto the trail. My knees began to lock up almost immediately from the pounding they had just taken. I didn’t think I could finish the race in this condition, I could barely move my legs. A runner quickly caught me and overtook me. As he passed he said, “That must have hurt. Don’t give up, keep going”. I did my best to chase after him, but my legs were not cooperating anymore. I stumbled up the next hill as best I could, my knees were beginning to free up, but the pain was not subsiding. We came to another steep rocky downhill (my forté) and I let loose. It probably wasn’t the smartest choice, but I seldom make those choices. Within 30 seconds of the decline, I passed the runner that had passed me after the fall. As I went by he exclaimed, “Wow! Way to get back in there!”. I was not giving up on this one. My anger fueled me for the next two miles as we climbed several quad thrashing 30 to 40 percent slopes.

When I had reached the 5 mile turnaround point, I was relaxed and finding my rhythm again. I had made some good distance on the runners behind me and I was beginning to make ground on Ben Nephew (3rd place finisher) in front of me. Back over the hills we went. I charged up and down each one with reckless abandon. I still wasn’t sure if I had 10 miles of race endurance in me, so I wanted to make up as much ground as I could on the hills before the relatively flat and fast last 3 miles. At long last I found myself descending the last of the steep downhills, it would be relatively easy from this point on. Well, that was until I tripped on a root at the bottom of the downhill and flew shoulder first into a large pine tree. I bounced off and careened face first down the slope. The thumb pad of my right had took the force of my weight as i came down hard on a rock. My knees were again smashed by roots and rocks. Something sharp pierced the soft flesh on my right side. I scrambled up onto my feet with pure adrenaline, the pain was shooting all over my body. I tried to run, but so many things were beginning to lock up and swell that I couldn’t make a running stride. A runner flew by me and asked if I was alright. I wasn’t sure if I was. Trying to match his pace was an exercise in futility and he quickly disappeared. Shortly thereafter, Dan Verrington (one of the best masters racers in the country) passed me like a rocket, I couldn’t keep his pace either. I was watching my race fall apart and there was nothing I could do.

With two miles remaining, another runner passed me, the same gentleman that had passed me after the first fall. I had loosened up a bit and tried to go with him. I still couldn’t get a full stride, but I managed to pick up the pace. My last two miles were under six minutes each, but the three runners that had passed were easily outpacing me. I crossed the finish line in 7th place. Although I did not achieve the result that I had hoped for, my time was quite good, and the competition was as good as it gets. I am in much better shape than I had expected. The seven week break from running this winter, hasn’t set me back as far as I thought it might. Things are looking up. Let the healing begin.

Click HERE to watch the video.

What goes up, must come down. The competitors in the Curly’s Record Run snowshoe race in Pittlsfield, MA this past weekend might rephrase that statement as: what goes up, up, up and still higher up, must come down, down, and very quickly down. Standing at the registration table, the air was abuzz with talk of the 700 foot non-stop climb a mile into the race. Now had this been a mountain running race, such a climb would be seen as insignificant, but snowshoeing is not running. The weight and awkwardness of the shoes combined with the challenge of running on snow make snowshoeing infinitely more exhausting. The week prior at the race in Florida, MA, a hill of only 80 feet had laid me to waste, so naturally I feared for the worst.

During a short warmup with Dave Dunham, he informed me that a very tough crowd of athletes had assembled. Top mountain runner Tim Mahoney was again on hand. National Showshoe bronze medalist and All American mountain runner Ben Nephew was there. New England standout triathlete and snowshoe racer Matt Cartier had also been spotted in the crowd, and well, then there was Dave. Dave is first and foremost a mountain runner. He’s a legend in the American mountain running scene, for his ability to tirelessly grind away at a solid pace on never ending uphills. This course was designed for racers like him and everyone else in the race knew it.

Curly’s Record Run is named in honor of Albert “Curly” Voll’s record setting downhill skiing performance on the Shadow Trail in Pittsfield State Forest back in 1944. Curly doesn’t race anymore, but he was kind enough to blow the starting whistle to get the race underway. From the start, the strategy of the other top racers was clear – get to the hill with a solid lead on Dave Dunham in hopes of providing just enough cushion to hold him off on the monster climb. Dave is not a crazy downhill runner, he prefers the ups. So to beat him to the top of the hill, or to even be close to him at the top of the hill meant certain victory for a fast downhill runner. The course started climbing almost immediately, and Ben Nephew and Tim Mahoney jumped out into an early lead. I stayed back a bit with Dave Dunham and Matt Cartier. A mile later when the “hill” came into view, it was clear that Ben and Tim were already beginning to tire. A hundred meters into the climb Ben stepped aside and let us pass. Dave took off and I couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t long before he passed Tim and took the lead. Tim was about 10 seconds ahead of me on the climb and was keeping a steady pace. I didn’t want to go after him and risk dying as I had the week before, so I kept the gap and made sure that he didn’t widen it. After nearly a mile of constant climbing we reached the top, exhausted. Dave was so far ahead that he was no longer visible. I was very excited that I had made it to the top of the hill in third place, because my forte was yet to come. Tim picked up the pace on the rolling course on top of the mountain and widened the gap a bit. I couldn’t hear anyone behind me so I stayed where I was, trying to get some strength back in my legs. That strength would be absolutely necessary to safely navigate the steep pitch of the Shadow Trail at high speed. It was after all a downhill ski run, and could prove quite dangerous if one got out of control. A left hand turn brought me to the top of the Shadow Trail. I could see Tim Mahoney about 15 seconds ahead of me, so I let it rip.

The trick to fast downhill running is to let yourself fall under control. You let gravity do the work for you as you guide your feet to the next safe landing. But with twists and turns, trees, rocks and logs to jump, that’s not always an easy task. I must have been going 25 miles an hour, as each step carried me about 20 feet down the trail. In no time I was blowing by Tim as if he were standing still. I couldn’t see Dave in front of me, but I had every intention of catching him and renaming this trail “Tim’s Record Run”. That thought lasted about two minutes, which was the amount of time it took Matt Cartier to pass me as if I was standing still. He must have been doing 30. I’ve never seen anyone run downhill that fast. I was demoralized. Even though I kept up my blistering pace, part of me was already beginning to settle in to 3rd place. It’s funny how the mind does that to you.

Somehow, I managed to make several high speed log jumps and arrived at the bottom of the hill safely. Matt was no longer in sight. With about 1.5 miles of flat and bumpy terrain left in the race a little voice popped into my head. “You beat Matt on the flats and ups already, you can do it again”, it said. The voice was right. I shifted into high gear and went after him. The sinuous twists and turns through the woods made it difficult to see anyone in front of you, but I knew he was there somewhere, getting closer with each stride. Then suddenly I saw two sticks planted in the snow next to the trail, that spelled “YI”. These sticks would have gone unnoticed by most in the race, but they were of special significance to me because I had placed them there before the race. On my warmup before the start, I had gone backwards on the course from the finish to a point 4 minutes in. I chose to mark this place as my point to begin my finishing kick. I found two sticks of interesting shape and placed them next to eachother in a way that I’d easily notice – the “YI” formation. My adrenalin rushed as I now saw the familiar sticks, the end was near, no holding back. I picked up the pace, and braced against the nausea in my stomach. Two minutes later I burst into the small field containing the finish. Dave was now visible as was Matt. I had gained considerably on them, but they were too far ahead to catch in the ever shortening sprint to the finish. I did not settle for 3rd place. I earned it.

Ten minutes after the finish I was invited to do a warmdown with Dave, Ben and Tim. Dave is a man of many lists. One of these lists contains the names of every town in Massachusetts. His goal is to run in each of these 350+ towns. Well it so happens that this race was near the intersection of four towns that Dave had never run in, so we set off on a long easy snowshoe run to help him check them off. Wait, did I say easy? Scratch that, the course that Dave had plotted on some online mapping site had us running up a logging road that climbed over 1500 feet in one solid stretch. This mind you, was taking place shortly after getting pummeled by a hill half that size at race pace. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful trek and I enjoyed the company and conversation. At the summit of the Taconic Range we were presented with a gorgeous three state view of MA, NY and VT. We stopped to reflect for a moment next to a small lake as well, where a state forest sign informed us that it was the highest lake in Massachusetts at 2,150 feet in elevation. It was beautiful. The warmdown took well over an hour. I was spent. Dave on the other hand was planning to knock off two more towns on his 3 hour ride home north of Boston. Dave is no ordinary human being, he is the stuff legends are made of.

Yes, you read the title correctly – I snowshoed in Florida yesterday with a hundred other winter sports fanatics. Of course I’m referring to Florida, Massachusetts, just south of the Vermont border on the high Green Mountain plateau. It’s an oddly named town, as it sits at an elevation of over 2,000 feet and registers the coldest temperatures and greatest snowfall in Massachusetts. Not many retirees living up there.

This being the third race in the WMAC snowshoe series (and my 3rd snowshoe race as well), it attracted all the usual suspects. There was the legend Dave Dunham, several members of the infamous CMS (Central Mass Striders) team were on hand, and the ARE (Albany Running Exchange) showed up with an entire van-load of racers, including Josh Merlis who had won the race in Guilderland, NY on the 6th. This was the deepest field of snowshoe talent that I’d seen.

As I was beginning to warm up, a man in his late 40’s stopped me in the parking lot. He told me that he had seen my jacket at the last race and went to my website. Shuffling through a bag he had next to his car he pulled out a few bananas and an apple to show me. “It makes sense” he said, “I’m going to try eating a lot more fruits and veggies and see what happens.” he added. I chatted with him for a bit longer and then continued my warm up. It’s difficult to know how much of an impact I’m having on this journey. I often wonder if people just think I’m crazy, especially when I turn down the free doughnuts, homemade chili, hot chocolate and stacks of pancakes that usually follow these races. It only takes one person to approach me and tell me that I’ve affected them somehow to keep me going strong on this lonely road.

Two days before the race I began to feel a little off and could only many to struggle through two 2 mile runs with great difficulty. The day before the race I was feeling a little better and did a longer run, but much slower than my normal pace. I was hoping that I’d be 100% by race day. As I discovered half way through the race, I was clearly not.

The snow was what skiers refer to as “sugar snow”, small hard granules that don’t stick together and slide very nicely on eachother. It’s the kind of snow that makes for very fast runs down the slopes. It’s also the kind of snow that gives way under foot every step of the way in a snowshoe race making the effort similar to running in deep sand with snowshoes on – not something I’d advise.

My goal leading up to this race was to take the lead from the start and hold on for as long as I could. Ideally this strategy would have me win the race, but the main purpose was to learn my pace. I wanted to test myself early in the race to see how long I could endure a faster pace before breaking down.

The bell went off and I blitzed out of the start. Dave Dunham was right next to me. We were neck and neck, leading the field through the first 150 meters on a wide snow covered road. I picked up the pace to move into the lead, but Dave picked it up as well and we remained side by side as we entered the more narrow single track through the woods. I couldn’t go any faster. We were less than 300 meters into the race and I was already exhausted. I knew that I’d never be taking the lead in this race, so I tucked in behind Dave. My breathing was eratic and strained, my legs felt sluggish, but I kept up. Four racers had formed a chain behind me, with the rest of the field drifting away. The course featured several short, steep climbs and a few very long climbs. Dave was pushing the climbs hard. He would charge up each hill on the mushy snow, he was trying to lose us. I stayed right on his heels, but I was paying the price. The hills were turning my legs into sludge and I was in trouble.

Approximately one and a half miles into the 3.3 mile course, we came to a long steep climb. I tried my best to relax into it and just push forward, but I could barely pick up my legs for each step. I turned around to see the 4 racers still in the train behind me, they looked fresh. So I stepped aside and let them all pass. I stood on the side of the trail for a few seconds watching them all snake through the woods with their brightly colored spandex outfits. It looked like a festive parade, and now I was just a bystander. I started walking up the hill. Even that made me nauseated. I finally reached the top of the hill, the train in front of me was gone from sight, they were well ahead of me now. Fortunately, we were all well enough ahead, that I couldn’t see anybody coming up behind me. My goal now was to stay in 6th place. I was being optimistic.

I trotted through the woods for a good five minutes when I realized that my heart had slowed down significantly and my legs were feeling revived again. So I picked up the pace a bit – still felt ok. I crested the top of a little hill and a very long steep downhill appeared in front of me. I love downhills. Not because they are easier to run than uphills, because they are not, running downhill on snowshoes is actually quite dangerous. It’s very easy to catch a tip on a branch, tree or frozen crust and go down, but even worse is the possibility of “post-holing”. The increased weight and speed of a downhill descent reduce much of the snowshoe’s ability to keep the runner on top of the snow. Often you will hit a pocket of very deep snow that has blown over fallen logs or rocks. It appears flat from the surface of the snow, but it hides a very dangerous topography below. With three times your body weight coming down on each downhill step, it’s easy to punch a hole straight down to the bottom of the snow and in between rocks and logs – post-holing. Your momentum then continues to carry your body forward with great speed and inertia, all while your leg is now jammed into a hole a few feet behind you. It’s the perfect recipe for a broken leg of the worst kind. Despite this danger, I am an absolute madman on the downhills. I hold nothing back and do not break my speed. When I reached the bottom of this very long downhill I must have been moving well in excess of 20 miles an hour. An object in motion tends to stay in motion and that’s exactly what I did. I carried my speed as long as i could. I was refreshed. Another reckless descent put me within close sight of the 5th place racer. With newfound hope I bore down on him and caught him within a hundred yards, I was flying. Another quarter mile and I was closing quickly on the racers in 4th and 3rd place who were still running together. A slight decline in the trail gave me just enough of a crazy-man advantage to catch them. The trail had started to turn up again, so instead of passing them I tucked in behind them and waited for the next downhill to make my attack. A hundred yards ahead of us I could now see 2nd place Josh Merlis, who had won the previous race. Judging by his side to side bobble, I knew he was hurting. Slowly over the next half mile we reeled him in. I was still waiting for my downhill to make my move, But it never came. We burst out onto a snow covered road with the finish only 300 meters away. Josh had 5 seconds on the three of us who were now running side by side fighting for third place – or possibly second if our kick was strong enough. Alas the finish was a gradual uphill and it quickly brought me to a hobble as the other racers slowly edged me out. I would settle for 5th, just a handful of seconds out of 2nd place. Dave Dunham had easily won the race.

Dave joined me for my post race warmdown run. During the run Dave revealed to me how tough he thought the course was. He said he was dead out there and when he saw the train of 5 people behind him in the beginning he thought he was doomed. Perspective is an amazing thing.

Thrashing through the snow in the Snowstorm Classic 5k was so much fun, that I decided to make the hour and forty minute drive south again to compete in the Snowstorm Classic 10k. Where the 5k offered bone chilling temps and snow covered roads, the 10k presented a gauntlet of new challenges, including hard packed ice on 50% of the course and much stiffer competition. The temperature was a balmy 30 degrees, so naturally many of the runners thought that a t-shirt and shorts were the appropriate attire. My wimpy California blood demanded that I wear two layers on the top and bottom.

Over 100 runners lined up at the start line on the edge of a frozen duck pond. The crowd was abuzz with cheerful conversation and smiling faces. The race started with a quarter mile long uphill into a densely wooded area of the park. The road was completely covered with old snow that had been packed down into ice. Everyone was slipping as they tried to get up the hill. I managed to get into the top 5 without falling and breaking my neck by running on the very edge of the road where there was still crumbly snow to offer some traction. At the top of the hill we were greeted by a very large locked steel arm gate. Some of the runners planted their hands and vaulted over it, only to slip and fall as they landed, others dusted off their baseball skills and slid under it on the ice. I chose option C – to run around it through the knee deep snow. It was perhaps the safest choice but it filled my shoes with very chilly snow. For the next two miles, I ran with the lead pack of 5. We were all taking different tracks on the icy road hoping to get more traction. At the two mile point one of the racers announced that we had run 12:40 for two miles. This was about 50 seconds per mile slower than I wanted to run, but we were moving as fast as we could on the ice.

We finally reached an area of clear pavement at two and a half miles and one runner broke away. He was trying to make up as much time as he could now that we could run at a normal pace, well, normal for running in 30 degree temps with lots of clothing on. I picked up the pace a bit, but for some reason I let him get away – perhaps he was just faster than me, I’m not sure. When I hit the 4 mile mark, he had a 30 second lead over me, and I was about a minute up on 3rd place. I surmised that the man in front of me was a very good runner and had decided that I was comfortable getting second place to him. It was an easy second, and I didn’t have to work that hard to guarantee it.

That’s when I noticed that the road was again changing to ice, and I could see him struggling and slipping far ahead in the distance. A new voice popped into my head. It said, “I’m fast. I’m tough. And this is easy!”. The voice kept repeating these three lines over and over. The clear culprit in this mental coup d’etat was a book that I had started reading a few days prior, called – “The NEW Toughness Training For Sports” by James E. Loehr. Someone on one of the raw food forums had been watching my video blogs apparently and thought that I could use a little toughening up. I’m always open to advice, so I found the book on Amazon and bought it used for $2 bucks. The book essentially breaks every athlete into two halves – The Real Self and the Performer Self, and then goes on to instruct one how to toughen up the Performer Self. Well, the voice I was hearing in my head must have been my unsatisfied Real Self pushing my Performer Self out of the way and taking over the job of moving my legs. It’s amazing how much of the discomfort we experience in life is self-imposed, because once I started listening to the pep-talk that my Real Self was giving me, I began to feel like an entirely different person. I picked up the pace drastically and set my goal to vaporize his 30 second lead and win the race. The ice whizzed beneath my feet as I clocked a low 5 minute pace. Every corner we turned offered up the view of his back – closer than it was before. I began to realize that I wasn’t even feeling tired. The voice just kept repeating those 3 lines, “I’m fast. I’m tough. And this is easy!”. Suddenly it was interupted by the gorgeous view of the tops of trees and a cloud speckled blue sky – I was horizontal in the air. I hit the ground hard and slid about 15 feet on my back. Before I even came to a stop I was up on my feet again, ignoring the pain and more determined than ever to catch him. The anger and pain of falling was being translated into an even faster pace.

With less than half a mile to go, the road ended and we had to jump a snowbank and run 30 feet on a snowy trail to another road. I was moving so quickly through the trail that I surprised him when I burst out onto the road only 3 feet behind him. He turned around and looked at me with shock and fear in his eyes. It was like a watching a prey animal when it realizes that the predator has snuck up it and is about to make it’s lethal pounce. He found a 5th gear and bolted down the hill ahead. I chased in hot pursuit, there was no way my dinner was going to get away. When we hit the 6 mile mark, we were moving at an all out sprint. There were only two tenths of a mile remaining to see who had the fastest kick. He reached down deep and pulled away from me in the final stretch. I was moving as fast as my legs would carry me and I simply could not keep up. I had run a 1:48 (4:30 pace) for the last four tenths of a mile, he had run a 1:42 (4:20 pace). My second place time of 35:54 translated into 3 miles above 6 minute pace, and 3 miles at close to 5 minute pace. Considering the nature of this course and my initial “laziness” this is a sign of great things to come.

Lessons learned: Never give up, never give in. You feel what you beileve you feel. Change your beliefs and you can change your feelings. Never underestimate yourself or your opponent. Always do your best.

Next week I’m going to enter my first ever snowshoe race. I can’t wait.