To all my imaginary fans from yours truly I give you another delightful race re-cap. 2 in one month?! Yeah, just for you super fans, I did race twice and promptly write a dull tale about both of them in a timely manner. This report comes from the hills opposite I-84, high above the mighty Columbia River in what we locals simply refer to as "the gorge".
I sort of half-heartedly signed up for the race immediately following the 10 mile race in the mountains of Southern Oregon. Racing is kind of like drinking in that way, sometimes after a good pour you just get thirsty for more--forgetting how much trouble too much can do to you. Anyway, I wasn't really sure it would work with my schedule to make it up there but after a customer, Tony at Gator Creek Gardens, in nearby Carson said he'd take a pickup load of plants if I'd drop them off on the way I was pretty well committed to showing up for the party.
It sounded like a good challenge and a "down-home, no frills" style event. Just the kind I've grown to love. I was excited to give it a good shot. So I did some hill repeats a couple mornings, got in a solid puke pace track workout and generally conditioned myself to a state of feeling like shit on the Thursday before the race. I took advantage of Friday by staying up late, eating a burger and you guessed it, drinking way too much wine. It was some very fine wine though...
On to the race now: As the 10am start time neared and the day was heating up I wrapped up a conversation with one of my heros, fellow Salem-ite, Eb Engelmann (what that guy's been up to as a 71 year old is truly and inspiration--incredible dude for sure). I approached the start line and I was in my now usual state of "how the f am I going to place where I was hoping (top 20) with all these apparent hot shots (dudes bearing singlets with shoe stores on them, team uniforms, gianormous quads and pencil thin wrists) in the horserace?" I don't put a lot of pressure on myself but these anxious thoughts always seem to have a calming effect anyway as I usually conclude with "shit, screw it, I'll just run 'my' race."
Well the RD yelled "go!" and we took off briskly through the town streets for a bit before entering a little goat trail that quickly began to tilt upward. Up and up we went. Some super runnable ups and some brief steep ups. I ran them all. I figured there were at least 10 guys in front of me and a bunch of really smart pacers right behind (that would soon be in front of me). Well, I was wrong. I passed one or two, maybe three guys and no one ever passed me in the climbfest that was the 1st 8 miles. I worked hard but really focused on being steady and enjoying the trail which went through dense woods, oak scrub, clear cuts, meadows and had view after view of the gorge and Mt. Hood's gnar North side.
Things began to tip downward here and there around mile 9 and I took advantage of that by rolling my ankle pretty badly. It cracked and sent some tingles up my leg but I just kept going telling myself out loud: "Just keep going! Keep... go..." The pain didn't worsen (or improve for that matter) so I just went with it best I could: my somewhat smooth strides now a little more choppy as I moved more cautiously. I had another runner in sight now and he was moving even more cautiously. Clearly, he was a roadie or buttery grass x-country runner as he seemed quick but uncomfortable on the rocky decent trail. I overtook him with a few miles to go. Not long after a dude that I'd passed after running together back in miles 7-9ish went whizzing by me. I didn't bother trying to hang with him as I was just trying to hang on to my wheels as it was.
The last mile had a steepish little incline that spit runners out on the roads and the roads were a raging inferno of black asphalt for parched little me. I hopelessly rounded a couple corners until the finish rolled into view and I crossed the line to a screaming crowd of 10-20 people. Just like that it was over, 1 hr and 43 minutes after it all started on this very same street corner.
I looked around and thought "where are all the other finishers?" There were just 4 sweaty dudes shaking hands and doing the post race congrats stuff. I'd arrived 5th?! No way. It was confirmed when I started chatting with the guy who got in just front of me. I then met Yassine (1st place finisher) for the first time in person after all the emails and calls we'd exchanged when he coached me for a while last year. Awesome guy, it was nice to catch up with him and meet his family.
I stuffed my face with fruit and drank more water before eventually making the trek back down to the valley where I weeded in the onions for a bit and then drank beers with a work crew undoubtedly boring them with this very tale about a foot race in the Gorge.
I can't wait to go back to the gorge and explore some more!
Good work, Master Z. I'll come cheer you on this fall. Onwards and upwards.
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