Mayor's Cup and 2 GVH Upstate XC Series Races

Onlookers watching the men's 8k could be forgiven for thinking invisible being chased by wolves as the 300 runners uniformly refused to give ground to their competitors. The race started fast and people continued to run well beyond their ability through the first mile. Diana Davis said there were hardly any stragglers behind the pack. This gels with my experience from inside the pack. Either nobody told me it was only a one mile race, or nobody told all these other guys it was actually a five mile race.

I had planned to sprint off the starting line to get decent position going in to the bottle neck 200 meters in to the race. I thought I was moving fast, but the pack swallowed me up and swept me into the narrows.

Having started on the left side of the line I swung around the right hand turn near the outside and never felt too claustrophobic. I drifted in and out of the pack as it flowed and eddied like a very discrete simulation of fluid dynamics. More than once it occurred to me, this is way too fast. This is more than race-line-jitters fast. And yet, everyone around me kept up the pace.

I had told coach Reif beforehand that my plan was to not run the first mile under five minutes, which had been a strategy at Nationals races in college to keep from being caught up in the nervous adrenaline rushes. I was certainly in danger of failing that strategic goal and the one mile clock confirmed it: 4:50.

4:50 with a large pack ahead of me and practically everyone immediately behind. Fellow GVHers, Fontana Fluke and Brian Lombardo, shot through the mile within a breath.

I cursed my foolishness. I'm smarter than this. Now I'm in trouble. My legs felt heavy like they could lock in to a clumsy fe-fi-fo-fum mode any second. I eased back and everyone else seemed to be doing the same thing. No more invisible wolves. The pack strung out. I maintained my rank, whatever that was, as we approached Bear Cage Hill. Up the loose crushed stone I slowed even more, maintaining effort, but not pace. If a few runners passed me by, I caught them and many more on the descent down the other side, even if I had to scrape through the branches on the edge of the trail to get past them.

We wove back past the starting line on this spectator-friendly course. I heard support from Mike Reif, Megan Hyland, Lombardo's coach, Diana Davis, Karina Johnson, Dave Belcher, and probably others. I'm a very lucky guy to have so many fans.

Around the back stop, past the finish, then back on the path towards the woods we went. There were still plenty of runners around me: at least three within two steps. A few runners pass me by. They're moving too fast. I let them go.

A deeply competitive race like Mayor's Cup runs very differently from a race like last weekend's Planksy invite at Williams. At a race like Plansky, when there are two or three frontrunners, there is pressure to hold position right up front. Drift back a little and there won't be anyone to run with. Also, everyone will know you fell away from the leader. In Mayor's Cup I'm anonymous and constantly surrounded by competitors. When one moves up, I can think much more reasonably about whether I want to pursue or just let him go. It's that fine line and tradeoff between courage and stupidity: in Mayor's Cup it's easier to wimp out, but I'm less likely to make an irrational and bad decision.

Winding through the woods the other runners felt more like obstacles than people to pass for team points and placement. I put a few behind me, but there's no end to them in the short distance I can see ahead and I knew there were plenty behind me ready to take any ground I would give them. I could have drafted this whole race close enough to read the tag on somebody's jersey, but the ground was too variable. Instead I moved out, or between people, to get a view of the footing that rolled towards me. I swung wide on two hairpins near the end of the woods then went skittering across the pavement on my spikes. Next was a deceptively large gradual hill. I relaxed as others exerted up it and lost a few places.

We rounded a sharp corner then practically tumbled down a man-made hill. I passed some people there, but it was a hollow victory as I wondered whether the abuse on my legs was worth it. The course rounded behind the starting line a third, but not final, time before we headed back to the woods. Despite the repetition, this course has never felt boring to me.

On the way to the woods I heard someone cheer on Ben Schmeckpeper. I knew beforehand that he was in this race. Although it hardly mattered whether this one person passed me or not, I had set him up in my head as a goal: I must beat my former collegiate competitor.

This helped drive me forward faster, but otherwise I maintained effort. Up Bear Cage I languished, but I flew down it and passed more people again. The race was almost over. My legs had felt like they couldn't sprint after mile one. Somehow I rounded the backstop and found some extra gears. A few more runners ate my dust and I made it through the finish line.

Afterwards I wondered if I hadn't hallucinated hearing Ben Schmeckpeper's name. I congratulated him on his race and told him that hearing people cheer for him drove me on faster. He said I must have heard another Ben because he was nowhere near me. I said, truthfully, that I had heard "Schmeckpeper." He said it must have been another Schmeckpeper. Right...

For feeling so sluggish and wimpy I ran a miraculously fast time (24:52) and placed 14th.

News story

Images, but not of men's 8k - also none of Diana or Karina running : (

Results

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4th GVH Upstate XC Race 2008

I raced a muddy 6k in Verona New York. It was the 4th race of the GVH Upstate XC series. I took the lead rather quickly with vampiric spikes in my shoes, though I did hesitate long enough to confess to the other front runners, "Uh, I don't know where we're supposed to go." Another guy also admitted obliviousness, but the third pointed to a shed and said, "to the right of it." After that I was all set.

I pulled away in the woods, milking the downhills, and conservatively quick stepping the ups. I kept increasing my lead throughout. I even used a wimpy mental attitude to push faster. I really did not feel like kicking at the end of this race. I didn't want anyone else to make me run faster, so I made a deal with myself. Run faster and no one else will make you run faster. It made sense at the time.

So I powered on through the course. Here's me gasping for air afterwards.

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5th GVH Upstate XC Race 2008

Another week later and I'm back to the Finger Lakes Community College where I had my New York running debut exactly one year earlier. That time I dueled with Ted Turner (formerly of Geneseo, then of the Indiana Invaders, now, who knows where?). I bested Ted in the last mile, dismantling his early lead piece by piece. Without the Invaders in attendance this year I expected little pressure up front. Oh, how wrong I was.

Aaron Rowe showed up to keep me honest. Aaron and I had raced two times before and I had beaten him twice before, catching him late and surging past as I had done to Ted. Aaron is monstrously strong and rather bigger than me. I kept telling myself that (that he was bigger, not stronger) as I ascended the hills of the FLCC course. Surely he was hurting more than me carrying that weight up the long and steep hill at the end of mile four.

Preceding the hill, in the sloppy, rolling lower loop where Ted Turner had started to falter the year before it was I who had faltered. Rowe charged up the hills and seemed unaffected by the slippery footing. I was already digging myself a mental grave. "Second is ok. You're just not feeling it today. These things happen."

Aaaaghh. Get it out. Get this voice out of my head.

Rowe took a minor lead on these trails, but I dogged his steps. On the steep ascent I lowered my arms, shortened my stride, and chopped the hill down. Rowe's lead, however, increased. At the top, into the woods loop, I took the little voice of negativity into the bushes and shot him dead.

What follows the crest of that hill is the longside of mile five: a path cut through tall grass wide enough for a stampede, but it's just me and Rowe. I poured gas on the fire and charged after him. I moved very fast at this point. I had a 50 second lead on third place so I could afford to run up some energy debt.

Little by little I seemed to be gaining on Aaron. By the end of that thousand meters, I'd say he was five meters ahead of me.

The sharp turns on the dirt and woodchips sapped my momentum. Normally I love that stuff, but I did not on Saturday. Out of the trail and back to the grass, the first thing I hit is a steep little hill like a kick in the teeth. The second thing I hit is a massive head wind like a kick in the balls.

Around the final turn with 200 to go I know it's over. I need a strong finishing kick to win and honestly, I just don't have it. I keep my honor and sprint with all my strength into the wind. I finish only eight seconds behind Rowe, two seconds slower than last year.

Results

My fellow (open men) GVHers ran strong to pull the win out of Syracuse's teeth in the final race of the series. I've had a great time running with you guys and traveling to meets too. Club Nationals is going to be a blast, but first, some Turkey.

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