Cast a Shadow 2007

Sometimes I forget my priorities. Sometimes I forget my purpose.

On Sunday I tried to run. I thought a little jog would flush out the lactic acid. I neglected the fact that my muscles were probably riddled with micro tears. I shuffled around for 25 minutes. On Monday I couldn't walk properly. I tried to jog, as if that would be different. I made it less than 5 minutes. Tuesday I took a day off. One of my teammates in the race, which was a 3-person relay, is on crutches. One of my opponents has two fractured ribs.

And yet, I worry and fret that my training will suffer from taking time off! Then I read an email from one of my relay-teammates. After detailing how his knee is re-inflamed (this is the teammate who is NOT on crutches, mind you) and how his coaches are going to be upset with him, he writes:

I would do it again this weekend in a second though, no regrets. It's always one of my favorite events of the year.

Damn straight! It was beyond fun. This race was like nothing I had ever run before. It was exhilarating and challenging. I felt glorious while suffering discomfort. I will cherish the memories of this race. What higher purpose could my training have? What higher priority could I set? than to give myself the opportunity to compete in such a race as the Cast a Shadow snowshoe relay?

Allow me to explain: Cast a Shadow is a 6 hour, 100 % off-road, solo or 3-person-relay. The individual or team that completes the most laps of a course set in the beautiful Mendon Ponds is declared the winner. Ties are broken by whichever team/individual has the fastest final lap. Laps are about 2.25 miles.

Additionally, and this minutia is vital, each relay team must switch runners every lap, but they don't have to switch in the same order. For example, if I run, then Will runs, then Mike runs, then I don't have to run next, but if I don't then Will does because Mike can't run two laps in a row.

Also, the last lap doesn't have to finish before the 6th hour elapses. It only has to start before the 6th hour elapses.

My relaymates were Will Palmer and Mike Geary, both Williams students class '11. Mike is a Rochester native and organized the team. Mike had run and won this race before. We knew our competition would come from a team composed of a local post collegiate star, Jeff Beck, an accomplished high school runner (he was a footlocker finalist, that's a big deal), Zack, and a local xc/track coach, Nate.

I was excited to run and eager to compete after my hiatus since Nationals Club XC. Mike and Will had brought me a Williams jersey to wear so I sported colors near and dear to my heart. Before the race we did a bear toss, using one of the jersey's in lieu of T-Bear.

I ran the first lap against Jeff Beck. Both teams, apparently, hoped to maximize the use of their fastest runners. Jeff wore a ridiculous outfit (see image). His team name was the Snow Princesses. We were the Purple Cows. So the race had begun, purple versus pink, who would be victorious?

Jeff took off as quick, nimble, or spry as any cliched animal comparison you can think of. I moved easily into second, but I just couldn't keep up with him. I kept seeing flashes of pink through the trees ahead, but as I proceeded, the terrain consumed an increasing percentage of my attention. I found myself coming back round to the thought "I can't believe they are running the course over that" about every two minutes.

The course dove quickly into the woods. Slushy puddles were scattered about and defeated many pairs of socks (I went through four and I was conserving). The course didn't wait long before ascending sharply. Just when you reached the first peak, it descended even more sharply and this descent included a log jump and tight turn in rapid succession. I grabbed this little tree to stabilize myself on the turn and I was lucky to keep my eye when the top of the tree swooped down and smacked me upside the head. The bottom of the hill was no relief. It was more like a sucker punch to your knee joints before ascending another hill just as steep as the last. This hill gradually flattened, but it was still a long climb, the longest on the course I believe. I tried to run efficiently up it every time. It was one of those hills that wouldn't permit much else.

After that came some real relief; a subtle downhill with the best traction on the course and traction was the word of the day. After the first lap I changed out of training shoes with yak trax and into XC racing spikes with half-inch teeth in them. Will changed out of shoes and Stabilicers and neither of us looked back. Mike didn't bring spikes, which both explains and excuses the fact that he was our slower team member. Without spikes we were all just babies hurling slush at each other. Will seemed mentally beaten down by his slow first laps, but after the second one with spikes on his mood had greatly improved. My second lap was both faster and easier than my first. Spikes made a huge difference and leveled the playing field since at least two of our competitors were wearing them.

The decent traction didn't last long before the course snaked into a thin trail where high speeds remained possible, but dangerous (this is where Jeff fractured his ribs when he struck a tree). The course played around on these trails awhile before another hill climb and then by far the longest steepest descent of the day. You didn't descend this hill, you executed a controlled fall down it. Step after step I tried to bleed off my speed as I rushed toward the bottom (where there is an immediate turn of course). Sometimes my spikes grabbed a mass of slush or loose ice and slid and sometimes they stuck. Every step was a surprise as to which would happen. Miraculously I survived this hill. I did not race it. I never used the hill tactically. I just survived it at the slowest speed I could manage, which felt like a pilot breaking the speed of sound at eight G's.

At the bottom of that hill came the most frustrating part of the course. By this point everyone was tired, even after only having run one and three-quarter miles. The footing became worse than ever before. Not only was everything slippery, but it was also uneven to the point of absurdity. This picture gives a glimpse of how bad it was.

Will suggested saving energy earlier to try to push on this section. Certainly his advice to conserve on the hills was wise, but we all eventually realized that the trick was to conserve neither too much nor too little, but just enough to be able to sustain the maximum velocity allowed by the terrain, though this velocity was well under what we would otherwise have been capable of.

After this sloppy uneven section, which borders a lake, is a short up hill that is actually welcomed for its traction at that point, and a turn into the finish line/exchange zone. I completed my first loop and sent Will on his way. Jeff Beck had already tagged his teammate, Zack, well ahead of me. My quads were already burning from the first lap and I was sweating, which was expected but very annoying because I had approximately a half hour wait before I would run again. There was a heated lodge where I could wait and snack on bite sized energy bars or orange slices, but this easy option had a severe drawback that I didn't figure out until nearly the end of the race. Early on I wasn't bothered by the cold, but as my clothing became soaked I started to notice that at the start of each lap I was shivering even as I was running. This, I decided, was very bad. It was making me stiff and I needed to be fluid to move over this course. I was staying cold for a surprising portion of the laps. Eventually I realized what was happening. Though I was generating enough body heat to stay warm by a mile or a mile and a half into each lap, I was actually doing myself a disservice by depending on the lodge to keep me warm between laps. This external warmth was shutting down my internal heating which was slow to turn on, ironically, like a car left out in the cold. Yet, I was asking this engine to turn on every 45 minutes and shut down 15 minutes later. If nothing else, I was burying a tomahawk in my immune system.

In response, I began warming up for each lap that I ran. It may sound absurd that I was warming up between runs in a 6 hour relay, but I absolutely believe this was the right thing to do. My running felt faster and more comfortable when I warmed up. For any high school coaches reading this, you can tell that to your runners who may be reluctant to warm up.

So how did the race actually proceed? The Snow Princesses took the early lead against the Purple Cows. Jeff and Zack were giants among men. Will and I were doing our best, but losing ground. Mike was making up some ground on Nate and after initial losses we matched their pace and held ground. In the early laps there was a lot of gauging of effort and the course. I accessed "the zone" on my third lap, our team's seventh lap, I was able to run relaxed and fast, but fatigue was unrelenting and whittled away at my concentration. I found my mind wandering on subsequent laps. The race was so long that for a while the Purple Cows did their best, but we were mostly waiting for something to happen.

A little over half way through the race, around lap 14, the tides began to turn. Everyone had slowed, but the Princesses had slowed more. Though we didn't yet know it, we were whittling away at their lead. Will suggested that we swap Mike out one leg and run me again. He thought with the extra speed I might be able to bring us into the lead or at least tying position. This was about the time I figured out I needed to be warming up so the shorter rest suited me just fine. It was also about the time that the sun had set enough to require headlamps, so we hoped to sneak me earlier into the lineup without our competitors realizing it, in order to delay their response.

The sneakiness was rendered moot as Will caught up to and passed Zack before the exchange zone. I began my lap already in the lead! "We have a race folks!" the race director yelled. Excited, I ran a fast lap and increased our lead.

The tide had turned in favor of the Purple Cows. As the time remaining wound down, an important question arose: Could we lap the Princesses and clinch our victory? or would they tie us and the race would come down to whomever could muster the fastest last lap? Some basic mental math revealed that it would likely come down to the fastest last lap. This meant that I would have to out run Jeff, who I had been losing to all day. The Princesses had not modified their line up, so Jeff was still running once every 45 minutes. He wouldn't be any more or less tired than normal. The Purple Cows' lead gave us some leeway to now swap me out of the line up and give me an hour to rest. I took off my spikes and put on shoes with heel support. This felt like angels kissing my calves. I stretched a little and had a small snack. I set aside plenty of time to warm up.

A runner passing in the dark, leaving only the trailing light of a headlamp.

As I warmed up, I felt like a champion, selected by my army to go out and compete against the opposing army's champion to win the field. I was nervous. Six hours of grueling effort had been put in and it came down to the final lap. It didn't matter who crossed the finish line first, only who had the fastest final lap. Will, Mike, and I jogged together in the darkness as Zack came in and exchanged with Jeff. Jeff took off like a bullet on the final leg. I said that I didn't want to start my lap with him. I wasn't sure I could mentally pump myself up while watching him accelerate away from me. At that moment I preferred to race alone against myself and the clock.

Jeff was barely out of sight when I began my lap. I moved fast at the start, but more conservatively than Jeff had. I felt basically good, energized by the fact that the race was nearly over. Win or lose I could have real filling food and perpetual warmth. I accelerated as I entered the woods. I let the hills come as they were and merely tried to avoid waste. At the top of the early long hill, where the ground holds the spikes and is slightly downhill I started leaving a streak of flames in the ice. I hit what felt like top speed, realized it wasn't, and went faster. There was a light ahead, dimly reflecting off the trees, creating little pockets of existence beyond the circular window illuminated by my head lamp, and I was gaining on it.

I entered the trees and slowed a fraction for safety. I passed the runner. It wasn't Jeff, but there were too more lights up ahead. One looked like it was moving fast. I moved faster, exhilarated by the thrill of the hunt. Neither light was Jeff. I topped and descended the incredibly dangerous hill. Every fiber of badass left me for a moment. Jeff would not be caught going down this hill. At the bottom of the hill I was once more dowsed in the eye of the tiger.

For once I found footing around the lake. My ankles stayed relatively stable. I wondered if I wasn't skipping across ice stalagmites and perhaps any misstep would wring my ankle like a wet rag. Thoughts best left for another time. I passed more bouncing headlamps. We encouraged each other. "Williams?" one called out. "Yeah," I responded. "Go get him," he said, "he's just ahead." Sweet relief! Still, I pushed on and I caught Jeff. I encouraged him and meant it. I passed him and held my pace. I didn't mean to rub it in, but slowing at that point would have been letting myself down. I crossed the line victorious. My last lap was forty seconds faster than Jeff's. A six hour race and the margin of victory was forty seconds.

After the race, we had an amazing dinner. Will Palmer, Mike Geary, and I toasted "to crazy races" with three thumb sized chocolate bottles of Southern Comfort that I'd brought along. After dinner, we went out with the victorious girls relay team who had come down from Colby and knew Mike. With them we went out to a second dinner. Most everyone had a Garbage Plate. I opted for just a cheezeburger, but in hindsight I think I could have eaten the Garbage Plate.

I wrote most of this the Thursday after the race and I'm still having trouble running, but I will be ok before too long. My teammates and competitors are in various stages of disability. Hopefully they will be ok soon as well. We ran about 20 miles each. A total of 26 laps for the Purple Cows. Detailed results are here. I wrote a report of the absurd weather leading up to the race, although actual race day weather was mild. Lastly, my training log for the week of the race is here.

A wonderful gallery of race images can be found here. All the pictures I have posted are taken from that link and property of John Green.

My most recent previous race write up.