Just Another Day in Studville...

Shenipsit Trail 47.5 Miles End 2 End

Service is not the first thing that comes to mind when thinking of running.  Sure there are race volunteers and race directors who give a lot to produce events, but when it comes to basic grass roots running, the running should just take care of itself.  That may be true for a self contained, unsupported solo trek, but anytime a group of 5 or more gets together to do something epic, the rules change and help is needed.

For the last four years a few members of The Shenipsit Striders running club have gotten together to run the entire length of the 47 mile blue blazed Shenipsit trail End 2 End.  The initial group of us numbered four, and each year our numbers have grown.  So has the responsibility of logistics and coordination.  Since this is a point to point run, cars must be dropped at trail heads, seats must be reserved, water and food must be dropped along the trail and most of this logistic calculus must be figured out ahead of time.   

This year there were around 20 folks involved in the run.  Some ran the first 10 miles, some jumped in at 10 miles, some ran a few miles further, many ran from the Somers CT trailhead  to the 23 mile mark at Bolton Notch, some jumped in for the second half, and  four of us made a 47.5 mile End 2 End run.   Sound confusing?  Somehow it all worked.

 

Shenipsit Stiders President Clint Morse and Hector Morera put in a lot of time, coordinating the masses, and setting up several food and water drop areas.

My morning started at 2:50 AM as I woke up 10 minutes before my three alarm clocks were set to go off.  After a quick bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee, I headed out to meet Hector at the Southern end of the trail in Cobalt (East Hampton).  We met at 4:00AM and headed out to meet the others at Bolton Notch to car pool to the Northern trail head in Somers near the Massachusetts border.  Once again Clint Morse stepped up to shuttle the runners to the start, and he was not even running!

We arrived and met several others at the trail head and after a few quick photos, our group of 11 runners headed out onto the trail.  At this point it was still dark and the trail was very leafy and rolling, with a few climbs over fallen trees and boulders.  I hung at the back of the line of headlamps, mindful of the big mileage that was ahead.  One of the really cool things about this run is that it was starting in the dark, would continue all day and would most likely end in the dark.  I just love stuff like this.

The temperature was a near perfect 40 degrees; a perfect temperature for running, but not for standing around or walking.  The route took us through many areas.  The first was Soapstone Mountain where we climbed and went up the fire tower at the top of the hill. We were treated to a  nice glowing sunrise and a gusty wind that would not allow me to set my camera on the tower railing without knocking it over.  Then we headed on to some very scenic areas around Shenipsit Lake.  This area was reportedly a former trolley line and was great for running. 

The early group really hit our stride during this portion, and the running and company was great.   We heard tales of 100 mile races, and adventure races by several of the runners.  Talk of Grindstone, Hardrock, Ghost Train, and Western States along with tales of 20 foot waves during adventure races kept us entertained.   This was clearly a tough crowd! 

We worked our way past Valley Falls and finally up to the Hop River Trail.  After a climb along a ridge, we stopped off at the Great Notch Parking lot for a major fluid and fuel refill.  At this point we were nearly 24 miles into our journey, and were about halfway.  I was feeling really good, with just a little Achilles pain in my right heel.   I was pleased that up until this point no one had gotten hurt or even really taken a spill.  We did however have an eye injury as one of our runners caught a stick to the eye that tore his contact lens and left him in a bit of pain.

As the wind picked up and the temperature dropped, the final group headed away from the parking lot to continue our journey.  At this point we had Scott Slater, Hector Morera, Dave Sutherland and Jeff Woods along with 2^nd half runner Brian Talon. 

Jeff and Dave had never run further than marathon distance before, so it was a very exciting time for them, as we were soon setting new records for them with every step.

In years past, the trail was poorly marked and overgrown, and we had to spend a lot of time searching for the proper route.  The CT Forest and Parks has really stepped up and cleaned up this trail, I was amazed and somehow felt that it was just a little to easy to navigate our way from one blue blaze to the next.

At this point, some of our crew began to fade a bit, and hit some rough spots.  I was really impressed by adventure racer Jeff Woods as he put his team racing experience to work and led the group from the back, quietly encouraging each of us to press forward. Although David Sutherland had never run this far in a day, he pressed on without complaint.  Scott and Brian led from the front and made sure we were moving along.  At around 50K into the run just as things were getting quiet,  Todd Brown joined us for the run to the end.  Todd in his usual style kept up a constant chatter, calling out the blazes, offering political opinions, and making sure the trail was clear of wildlife.  He was also helpful in the later darker miles in leading us through some of the treacherous trail.  We where well stocked for the last part of the journey, as Hector had placed several drop packages along our route. Hector had also previewed and thought through every turn of this run.  As a result our group was very prepared.

In years past, we had crossed over route 2, a very busy highway.  This year we opted to cross under Route 2 via “The Tubes” a set of concrete culverts.   This option requires getting your feet wet, but for most of us this was no big deal. Download DSCF1022

And so the race against the sun began, and we ran when we could and walked when we had to. 

We stayed on trail, and had a blast.   I felt really good for the entire run except for a brief period where my broken shoulder began to act up.  We pressed onto the end, then celebrated on Great Hill before making our way down the steep trail to the final terminus. My wife was waiting with her warm car, and we all headed on our own separate ways.

 Starting in the dark; finishing in the dark. End to end.  Full phase.

A race against the sun.   Ultimately the sun won this year.  Wait till next year!

  

Air Brick: Running and Biking The Airline Trail South End 2 End

As any CT runner worth the salt on their brow knows, the Southern section of  The Airline Trail is a 22 mile rail trail that connects East Hampton Colchester  Hebron  Lebanon and Willimantic. According to the DEP, “The trail takes its name from the imaginary line drawn from New York to Boston, through the “air” so to speak, to illustrate the shortest possible route between these two major east coast cities.”  Although I have run many miles on this trail, I have never run it from end to end.  That is, until today. 

Unlike some other epic running days, I actually had a real plan for this day.  I awoke at 4 AM, ate a quick oatmeal breakfast and coffee and was off.  I drove to the Cranberry bog near what I had considered the start of the Airline trail in East Hampton.  I walked about a hundred yards up the trail in the dark with my mountain bike, then walked about 20 yards into the woods, and locked my bike, a helmet, and a few snacks to a tree.  The temperature was a comfortable 58 degrees, and I was really excited to unleash my epic plan, and to spend a day in the woods.

I then went back to my car and drove the ~40 minutes to Willimantic, parking at the end of the Northern Airline Trail in an urban residential neighborhood.  I was supposed to be starting at 7:00 AM but even after waiting 10 minutes to try to get a gps signal with my
Timex, I decided to get started at 6:30.

To get from the North Trail to the South Trail I had a couple of road miles to do Starting with The Frog Bridge.  Ok, so its not the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, but it is really cool in its own rite.  From there it was a quick right, as I worked my way through a few neighborhoods and soon found myself out in the country.  With very little effort I was on the trail.  Last time I ran this section was a few years ago when training for 24 Hours around the Lake.  At that point it was still under a lot of construction, and was still rough.  On that day after a long swamp run,  I found myself dead ended in a fenced in area sharing it with all sorts of livestock.  Today I knew better and took a shortcut under the power lines before taking a short road detour.

Many leaves had fallen and obscured the trail making for a crunchy run.  I was moving along well and regularly sipping from my Camelbak.  As the sun rose and I knew that at about 7 AM my friend Jen Barrett would be starting from the Rt 149 lot running towards me.  We met up when I was about 9 miles in, a few miles north of RT 85.  Jen is a great runner, and our first two miles were 8:03 and 7:53, a bit faster than I had been running.  It was nice to have someone to run with and to push the pace a little.

We soon ran into John Paggiolli and Darrel on the trail and stopped a moment to chat.  Soon after we hit the parking lot and knew that I had about 6.5 miles to the end.  At that point I recalled that the trail had actually been extended about another mile to the center of East Hampton.  As Jen and I ran, and the miles built up, the conversation grew quiet as the long run delirium started to set in.  At 19 miles or so I realized that I had not had an energy gel in way too long, and started to fade a bit as we struggled up hill. Sections of yellow leaves covering the trail blurred before my eyes.  Soon after Jen reached 16 miles, and made the turn to go back to the parking lot to round out her day at 21 miles.

The runkeeper application on my phone called out 21 miles as I reached my bike.  However I was not yet at the end of the trail, so I decided to continue on into town.  The trail was much improved from my last visit, and after a zig zag up a ramp, and a small parking lot I finally found myself at the terminus of the Southern trail, albeit with an empty Camelbak.   Desperate for water, I looked and saw a Lady’s clothing Store called WINK’s that let me refill my Camelbak. 

After a slow slog back to my bike, I ended the run portion of the trip at 22.79 Miles.  Now all I had to do was to bike back to Willimantic.  My brain at this point was a bit fried and I was busy adjusting to a much faster pace.  I was nervous that I might just hit a bump and spaz out.  After two miles or so, I heard the call of a group of 3 bikers as they passed on my left.  I decided that I would pick it up and stay with them, although they were moving faster than my current pace.

After several miles of hanging 50 ft off of the back of the peloton, we hit an uphill and I pulled up and started talking to them.  This group of friends rides every year from East Hampton to Willimantic.  Robert Edwards and Chuck Paprzyca and Chuck’s son are all avid hikers, made the 21 mile bike ride fly by.  Well except for the flat tire that Rob got that set us back about 20 minutes, but I really did not mind the rest.

We continued on blasting through the leaves until I opted to take the Power line detour in lieu of the road. At that point the other guys continued on and I headed up the rocky, crowded powerline trail.  In hindsight, it was  good thing that Rob did not hit that trail as it may have knocked out his other tire.

A few more miles, and I flied [sic] over the Frog bridge, and saw my car once again, still intact after nearly 6 hours.  What a fantastic day.  I love spending time in the woods, spending time with new and old friends, and I just love point to point trips.  Airline Trail South, a friend I got to know better today.

 

   

 

Come on...y'all know it's true!

Corporal Punishment?!

Well, here's a sign of the times!

A high school football coach is in big trouble.  He may be found guilty of "corporal punishment" for using running as a disciplinary measure?!

Click here for the story.

Hops: The New "Wonder Drug"?

Yes, Rattlesnake can stick with his red wine if he'd like.  But I'm pretty sure I've discovered something that out-does flavonoids when it comes to speeding up the recovery process.

For just about all of the 34 marathons I've run, the post-marathon routine goes something like this...

On post-marathon day #1, I can't even imagine running or even going for a morning walk.  Everything is sore and stiff, while bending down or bending over requires a monumental effort.  

On Day #2 I may be able to go for a short morning walk.  Maybe.  

On Day #3 I'm definitely doing a morning walk, and if things are going extraordinarily well, I may go for a very slow 2-mile jog.  

On Day #4 I'm probably jogging.  

Finally by Day #5 I should be doing something that at least sort of resembles a workout.

Well, not this time!  

The day after the Hartford Marathon I managed to do a 4-mile run at 8:42 pace followed by a 26-minute easy walk.

On Day #2 I was in the gym for a full chest and tricep workout followed by 2 miles at 7:49 pace.

Yesterday was Day #3, and I did 10 miles at 7:36 pace, thereby formally ending the post-marathon recovery period for me.

I can offer only one explanation: hops.  

On the evening of the marathon I splurged by ordering a "tall" Connecticut Pale Ale at an Italian restaurant in Manchester.  Pale ales are usually somewhat tame brews, and my stomach always needs about 24 hours after a marathon to feel settled again.

Well, much to my surprise, this beer was bitter and hoppy!  If Sidewinder (an avid Coors Light fan) had tried it he probably would have passed out.  And if I didn't know better I would have proclaimed it an IPA!  Although I was worried about my stomach, I went ahead and drank the whole beer anyway in order to avoid wasting money.

Anyway, ingesting the hoppy ale was the only out-of-the-ordinary step I took in my post-marathon period.  So we'll need to conduct some scientific experiments to confirm this, but I have a feeling that bitter beer will become my recovery drink of choice from now on.

Long live hops, I say!

 

 

'Half Time" for The Strike

Pursuant to a directive from Sidewinder, I have settled on my 2013 running goal.

I've decided to focus my 2013 efforts on the half marathon distance.  After a close look at my race results over the past few years, it appears that 13.1 miles is the sweet-spot distance for me; it's the race that I'm most competitive in.   My overall placing in the HM always seems to be pretty high, regardless of the size of the field.

I had thought that my best distance would be the marathon, but it's time to acknowledge otherwise.  Most time-prediction charts tell me that, based on my recent 5K and HM performances, I should be breaking 2:50 over 26.2 miles.  However, in 34 marathons I have gone under 2:50 only twice.  Although I'm proud of the marathon count, my marathon times have been much less impressive relative to my times at every other standard racing distance.

So, after studying the numbers, I'm excited to spend a full year pushing myself at what seems to be my ideal distance.  My 2013 half marathon goal is two-fold...

1.  Be the first Connecticut Master across the line in at least 4 half marathons, and

2.  Break 1:19.

I believe this goal meets all the traditional criteria of effective goal-setting:

(1)  It's obviously specific and measurable. 

(2) Although I think it's attainable, I'm going to have to stretch myself to achieve it.  There are  certainly plenty of top-notch masters runners in CT and 1:19 has proven to be a stubborn barrier for me.  Over the past 2 years I have clocked 19:something four times with my fastest being 1:19:37.

(3) I'm very excited about achieving it, having identified 13.1 miles as my best distance.

(4) there's a set deadline, which is the end of 2013.

My first 2013 HM is The Savin Rock Half (West Haven, CT) in March.  Already looking forward to it!

Oh-So-Close at Hartford

After making a rather public statement on Facebook about my sub-3 goal at Hartford, the self-induced pressure was on.  But the training had been pretty solid, and even the diet leading up to the race was actually a high-quality one for a change.  On the downside, I had struggled with a cold all week that just about cleared up by race day, and  race morning brought winter-like temperatures (low 30's, even upper 20's by some accounts). Otherwise, all systems were "go" for a sub-3.  That called for a 6:52 pace.

As it always is in every marathon, the opening mile was too fast (6:12).  I hit the 9-mile mark at precisely 1 hour (6:40 pace), so it was still too fast.  

But at some point I decided to hit the "just go for it" button with the thought that maybe...just maybe...I could hold a fast pace right through to the finish line, thereby obliterating the 3-hour barrier.  

At the 20 mile mark I was running 6:42 pace, setting the stage for a 2:56 finish and I still felt pretty good.  Thoughts of celebrating a breakthrough performance began to dance in my head.

Alas, it was not to be.  The heavy laboring began around the 23-mile mark.  Then I had to walk through the water station at the 24-mile mark before embarking on a painfully slow slog to the water station at the 25-mile mark where, again, I had to do a walk-through.  

As I hit the Founders Bridge I started feeling light-headed, I couldn't feel anything below my kneecaps and running in a straight line became impossible.  So I decided to stop and walk all the way to the top of the bridge to avoid having something catastrophic happen with less than a mile to go.  Then I managed to run at a good clip down the other side of the bridge and all the way to the finish line, so at least I looked half-decent at the end.  

I vaguely recall Diamondback magically appearing immedately after I crossed the finish line.  He was fresh-faced and enthusiastic as he handed me an ice-cold bottle of Poland Spring water, and for some reason I wasn't surprised by this in the slightest...I almost half-expected to see him standing there.  I don't remember what we talked about, but by the time I wandered off I was feeling much better about life for some reason.

My time was 3:00:47, which means I missed my goal by 48 seconds.  However, in the context of a 26.2-mile course, coming up short by 48 seconds qualifies as "pretty darn close", so although I was frustrated, a deep state of depression didn't seem warranted.  

So marathon #34 is in the books.  Right now I don't feel like running another marathon ever again, but I suppose the urge to get the marathon count up to a nice, even 35 will become all too compelling!

 

 

 

 

Hartford Marathon Tomorrow!

Oh...don't ya know it!

A Terrifying Future Race...

In light of how "scary" the team has been recently with injuries, lack of training, etc., this seems like a perfect race for the team to do...well...someday.  

Although Diamondback may sit this one out; word on the street is that he has a strong aversion for all things Disney!

 

A Trail by Any Other Name

You knew what I was when you picked me up.  Snakes can’t be trusted.  And neither can geographical metaphysical anomalies.  One can’t let one’s guard down for even a moment. For the Mesh can strike at any time. And then, one moment your taking a simple marathon recovery run with a single hand held bottle in a light rain,  then the next, your are running along and the only thing you really know is that you have no idea which way is up. 

Today’s run involved exploring a new trail that had more than an average amount of Mesh magic in the muddy soil.  I started on a trail that was off to the south side of Del Reeves road before one gets to the pond.  After reaching the edges of the Mesh and hitting the residential neighborhood  of East Hampton, I back tracked then split a little as I took a pine needle trail of into the wilds of the Mesh.  After a bit more I found myself on a section of the Shenipsit Trail, yet was not exactly certain where I was, although parts were familiar.  Then just like that the familiar Blue blazes disappeared and I was on another trail.  Most of the trails were really rugged, yet runnable stuff, with moist loose baby head boulders that were at times covered with leaves.  Although the place is pretty big and I was clearly lost, I did not really get too concerned and just kept running.  Weird thing was that I was not sure if I was going to resurface at Mott Hill Road, Lake Terramuggus, or Gadpouch Road. Basically a 6 or 8 mile spread. 

I rarely see anyone in the Mesh but today when I was deep in the woods, I ran up to group of about 10 guys, all dressed in black hoodies drinking beer.  They had a full caravan of ATV’s.   As I ran up to them, I really startled one of them for a second. The trail after them was really ripped up and made for exciting running.  I know most naturalists would think I am crazy, but I think that the ATV’s are the ones that really keep most of the remote trails open, so I don’t mind sharing the mud and rocks with them. As long as they stay off the single track. At any rate I ran without knowing where I was, or where I was going.

 

English trail runner William Shakespeare once wrote:  What's in a name? That which we call a trail, by any other name would run as sweet; So Mesh would, were it not Mesh call'd, Retain that dear perfection which it owes without that title.  

 

So I enjoyed the muck, mud and scenery and pressed on until I saw a familiar landmark.  Peace Rock appeared in a meadow and brought back memories of an early summer run with Rick.  The last part of this trail had 2 ft mud cliffs and a steep descent down to the main gravel road. I then took the rest of the run back along the familiar ultra hilly Mesh roads.  Another survival episode in the Mesh.   http://runkeeper.com/user/blueblazer/activity/123308523