Run Toto Run

February 13 2010. The 6th Annual Run Toto Run, run, totoed, run again, and otherwise MCed by the Trail Nerds, and led by the intrepid duo of Ben and Sophia, who enjoyed their last day of non-engagement the same day. (Congratulations, felicitations and other iterations to you both).

In actual fact, this was a course I was quite familiar with, having run it first at the Alternate Chili Run - also put on by the Nerds - and several times thereafter. What that meant was that I knew that I didn't know what to expect. Snow, ice, mud, yetis, and of course the ever present threat of spider monkeys.

So... to start at the top..

Jill drove me in at about 7:30am straight past the already full parking lot and into a probably illegal parking space on the side of the road. We ambled down to where the party was already beginning. A little snow was on the ground in places, enough to where I decided I needed to screw... my shoes for extra traction. A station was set up where a couple of people were very helpfully screwing everything that was sent their way, so I joined the queue. I asked the guy who did them - my Swiss cheese brain has forgotten his name - if he was running. He said no, he was going to do some sweeping later, but the 100 miler he'd completed the week before had apparently led to some very mild fatigue. Imagine...

I'd signed up for the 20 miler, but the little devil on my right shoulder was telling me I should go for the 50k if I felt good after the first two 10 mile loops. I asked Sophia if this was doable and she said "Yeah, just make sure we know" so I pottered off to Jill and told her it might be a long day for both of us. She was a good sport about it considering my inevitable slowness and her fondness for not being cold.

Ben and Sophia loudspeakered a few instructions - basically saying if you get lost you're an idiot (they were right; the course was excellently marked) - and with no further ado, we were at the start line and the (metaphorical) gun went off..

Miles 0-3ish. Across a field, a few yards of pavement then up into the first section of the bridle path. The ground was pretty hard and a bit slick, so I was glad I had screwed right before the race (OK, that's enough -ed). Most of this is a gradual uphill, with a couple of steeper bumps and a few short downhills. The path's been torn up by horses in a few places, so footing's fun there. I came out a couple of times onto some grassy clearings, but otherwise was in the woods the whole time here. I actually find this quite a challenging segment, mainly I think because it's the first thing I do, and I'm not yet warmed up properly. Lots of traffic in the early going, both human and canine, a couple of pukers, and the occasional f-bomb. One guy told me he liked my shoes (he had the same ones). I ran across him a couple more times when we strangely found we had more gear choices in common every time.

Miles 3-4ish. First aid station, and, I think, the only one I skipped. I took a right here onto the Wyco Triangle section of single-track. This is one of my favorite parts of PsychoWyco. It's not overly challenging, the trail's pretty smooth, and although there are times when you're sure you're just running in circles, there's something kind of 'yeah, I'm still alive' about completing it. Someone told me that there are people that can do it in 7 minutes. There are also non-superbeings like me who are usually just pleased they didn't get too lost. I've been 'triangled' for 30+ minutes before. No such problems here. Those little pink flags were like runway lights.

Miles 4-5ish. After I popped back out onto the bridle trail (on the other side of the same aid station you saw on the way in), there's a flattish section leading up to a road crossing and back into the woods. I think this was the first time I saw the guy cheering us on who I swear had seven or eight clones scattered at various spots around the course. He (and his doppelgangers) were a welcome sight, and his enthusiasm was impressive. Down one hill, then up what was one of the steepest on the course, and definitely the most challenging part of the first half of the loop. The highly motivating signs "It's OK to puke" and "It never only gets worse" greeted me towards the summit, and I considered both at length. Afterwards, I was rewarded with a fairly steep downhill section of back and forth, then you take a left and a sharp right and all of a sudden you're in the middle of a giant field.

Miles 5-6ish. The field seems to take forever to cross, and is the most exposed part of the course, so is really the only time you really feel much wind. I'm always relieved to get past this and onto the brief uphill section of road, past an aid station - where I gratefully had my bottle filled with Succeed. Back into the woods for a couple of very steep downhills where signs warned us to "SLOW DOWN" which all of those in my pace range certainly took heed of after Ben had regaled us before we started with stories of the broken legs of those who'd gone too fast.

Miles 6-7ish. It may not be, but this part always seems to me like the longest part of uninterrupted running in the woods without coming out at a field, road or parking lot of some kind. Lots of up, lots of down, a little flat, and a slightly muddier track that warned of things to come. I think this was the area I started to get passed by 10 milers that started 30 minutes after me - always an ego boost - including one very fast, (and very young) kid who made the hills that were burning my quads with every microstep seem like minor speed bumps - I later found out he came 2nd overall in the 10 mile race. Overachiever. Across another field, back into the woods, out by some boats, back in again, then one more aid station before the infamous "Three Hills" section.

Miles 7-10ish. Dominated by the aforementioned hills, the first of the three might be the worst because it's so dang long. Just as you think you're at the top, you turn a corner and it KEEPS GOING UP. I didn't even try to run this one, and all I could think was how in the frig was I going to do it again with 10 more miles on my legs. The second is a bit shorter, then the third is another real bugger, though at least you know it's the last main obstacle before the end. Finally, I heard noise that resembled the unmistakably lively chatter of finish line peoples and sure enough, I ran down one final hill and into the back of the parking lot where I'd started. A jovial guy took a picture as I crossed the finish line for which I managed to muster a smile - of all the pictures taken, it was the only one where I didn't look like I was about to keel over.

Round 1 complete. Jill snapped pictures and looked suitably concerned as I was somewhat disheveled already. My time was just over 2 hours; a PR for me, which probably meant I was going too fast.

Miles 10-13ish. Starting to feel a bit iffy. Jill was now meeting me whenever I emerged from the woods, with food and drink, and she told me after that this was the period she was most worried and that I looked "terrible". I was definitely starting to feel it. I took a salt tablet and ate some gummi bears at the aid station.

Miles 13-15ish. Definitely the worst part for me physically. The triangle was a bit muddier than the first time but mostly I just felt like I was about to pass out from exhaustion at this part. The idea of going 6 or 7 more miles didn't seem realistic. I slowed to a walk, even on the flat areas, and prepared myself for doom. To think, a couple of hours earlier, I'd been full of vinegar asking about "up-sizing" to the 50k. What a foolish child I can be. Also, somehow my stopwatch got stopped here, so it added to the feeling that I wasn't making any progress, time itself having apparently stood still.

Miles 15-17ish. Against all odds, I started to bounce back. The salt and food kicked in and all of a sudden I actually felt fairly comfortable again - oh, I still wasn't attempting to run up the hills, but I was pretty solid on the flats and downhills. Mud was really a factor by now, the product of melting snow and 500 runners tearing it up. Plp plp plp. Some were trying to run around the edges but I just charged through it for the most part. I still managed to fall flat on my face, side and butt four or five times, but at least it was a soft landing. I'd done this course in a foot of snow, and although I'll take the mud over the snow, it might be interesting to actually do this one day without either. Of course, then there'd be snakes and ticks, so, you know, every silver lining has its cloud.

Miles 17-20. The three hills were, if anything, not quite as painful as they were in the first loop (though it has to be said I took my sweet time with them), and were one of the few areas where the mud hadn't completely taken hold, so in some ways they were almost welcome. Plus I knew the end was in sight.

Finally, I saw the parking lot and, as if someone had injected me with an elixir of everlasting energy, I suddenly bounded out heroically and shot over the finish line in near average pace. A very brief thought of going for the 50k flashed through my head, then equally quickly went away. The second loop had taken me 2hrs 37 minutes, about 35 minutes slower than the first. The mud was getting worse, and I was spent. I'd put in my day's work. It was time to go home and caress my blisters.

At the end, Ben was there to greet me (see pic), and told me I looked a little pale and needed some food. I didn't reveal that I am the twelve time runner up at the whitest man alive contest behind only Conan O'Brien, but followed his advice anyway and had a bowl of hot soup and an awesome cookie.

I'm the pale one on the left

So, was it fun? Hell yes. I had mud up to my knees, I spent almost 5 hours running in the woods in February, and I got a medal with a dog on it. What more could you ask for?

A special thanks to...

All the Nerds at the aid stations. They were attentive and kept the bar well stocked. The variety of food was impressive (though I personally mainly stuck to gummi bears which I found to be like happy pills for me that day).

The mud

Ben and Sophia for putting on a first class event and for the really impressive amount of stuff you got for your money (long-sleeved tech shirt, mug, medal, soup, cookies - the list goes on)

The guy who screwed my shoes. Good luck on your next hundred miler.

Jill for being there at every corner on the second loop when she probably would rather have been at Banana Republic or David's Bridal. That's my girl.

Anyway, that's it for now. This post ended up being almost as long as my race. But slightly cleaner. See you at the next one!