Oh, yes! Event 45 in the 50@50 Project! Sorry about my absence. Things are getting crazy around HQ these days, what with our preparations for a HUGE fiftieth event! Have trail shoes, will travel.
To recap, Event 44 was the extreme Ole's Assault put on by our dear friends at XDog Events. Number 45 in the quest was held three days later, and was one of the Portland Trail Series runs in beautiful Forest Park. The course for this, the second race in the fall series, looked a little something like this:
Blogger Me: (Insert course map here)
Procrastinator Me: (I couldn't find it.)
Blogger Me: (Well, did you check the Portland Trail Series website?)
Procrastinator Me: (Um, YES. I'm not stupid.)
Blogger Me: (One could argue that.)
Procrastinator Me: (Watch it.)
Blogger Me: (Did you check the Facebook page?)
Procrastinator Me: (Yes. They didn't post it there, either. They put up a link to the website and it brings you to the course map for the third race.)
Blogger Me: (Hmmm...)
Procrastinator Me: (It appears they overwrite the old maps when they post the new route every other week.)
Blogger Me: (Well, that's what you get for waiting so long to write up the post!)
Procrastinator Me: (Yeah, yeah...)
So anyway, the course was a little over five miles and involved a similar start and the requisite hills, rocks, roots and such found in any Forest Park run. Since the first race two weeks ago was a little dark at the finish, we considered bringing the head lamps. Camera Crew and I discussed this while getting ready to head to the start, but decided that since the course was shorter and it was 'only two weeks later so how much darker could it possibly be', we made the call to leave the lights at home. Um, yeah. In hindsight, head lamps would have been a grand idea.
The crowd was about the same size as the first run two weeks prior. Like I've said before, we start to recognize the same folks from event to event. Especially at the extreme and trail races, since these types of events draw a certain type of person. Crazy - like us.
What can I say? I enjoy pushing my limits. I know I am not 20 or 30 or even 40, and not in prime shape ('round' is a shape, right?) and I know it takes longer to recover from beating myself up at these races. But I love it! It's weird. I think I enjoy the mental aspect more than the physical part. For me, I know my body can do most anything I ask of it and I also know that if my mind quits, I quit. So it's a mental battle during the tough times. I've completed four marathons and my running group coach always said "Mentally, you split a marathon into 'halves' - miles 1 through 20, and mile 21 to the finish." If you're going to crack it's in the second 'half' for sure.
My biggest mental challenge during this project was, by far, the Dirty Duathlon back in April. But at this point in the journey and doing events so close together, I find it in some ways more challenging. Face it - I was still pretty beat up from Ole's Assault and my back was killin' me. The thought of having to go out three days later for another event was depressing. But I love running in Forest Park and being able to hang another bib number in the Hall of Fame was incentive enough.
So... the race started! Up Leif, left on some trail, up to Wildwood, onto some other trail, big drop down, then climb back up along Wildwood, down another steep-ass hill to Leif to the finish. If only it had gone that smoothly.
As I mentioned in the previous post, I fell - again. Recall that during Ole's Assault, my feet went out from under me and I landed square flat on my back. And now, on the descent during this run, in the waning 'maybe we shoulda brought the head lamps after all' daylight, I tripped. I went ass over tea kettle, and did what I felt was a pretty good shoulder roll, James Bond-style. Graceful, I know. Sprawled out on my back, staring up at the darkening sky through the trees, back aching, I heard a voice ask "You alright, man?" I looked over and there was a dog staring down on me. I thought to myself 'Maybe I smacked my head a little harder than a think. The dog is talking to me.' It was a German short-haired pointer, an intelligent breed, so I figured if a dog WAS going to talk, it could very well be this one. Alas, no. The dog was right next to me, blocking from view the owner, who was standing behind him. I have to admit, I was a little disappointed.
After letting the guy and his god, er, 'dog' know I was okay, Camera Crew waited while I got up, brushed off, retrieved my water bottle and my dignity from the trail. Then she took off downhill and was out of sight in no time. Me? I was sore and it was dark enough that I had trouble seeing the trail. Confidence thoroughly shaken, I slowly picked my way to the bottom, back down to Leif. Camera Crew was waiting for me, but only long enough to make sure I made it down the single track. Then she was off again! Seems she took seriously my threat to tug on her ponytail, so she just wasn't going to let me get close enough to attempt that. Smart girl.
I crossed the finish line a minute or two behind Camera Crew. She was smiling, which is encouragement enough for me. This was another good race, a beautiful route (of course) and another reminder of why we love Portland.
For me and my dirty clothes, it was also a reminder of why Portland Trail Series calls this the 'fall' races.
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