Pisgah Mountain 23K Trail Race 2015

Since this is so late, I'll try to keep it brief.  This is one of my annual "must do" races.  I always look forward to the trip up to Chesterfield, NH and visiting with my brothers and their friends.  This year I had to either drive up later the night before, or just go up really early.  I decided to sleep in my own bed at home and make the solo journey before the sun rose.  The trip up was good and I ran into my brothers at the school (registration).  We headed back to Greg's house to hang out for a while.  Usually I'm feeling very jittery, nervous about the impending race.  This year I was just enjoying the company and not focused on the race at all.  I'm not sure why.  I certainly trained enough.  I certainly seemed capable of another PR and my first sub 1:40 effort on the course.  Greg hadn't been training much at all and there was even a shot (not great in my mind) that I could beat him on a longish run like this today.  I just wasn't fired up. 

Pre race instructions.  Wild Endurance up front.  Photo by Fred Ross

The race began and Greg and I took off out in front.  My main plan was to run with him or even ahead of him if I was feeling good.  What happened is what I should have anticipated: he took the race out hard, at least too hard for me.  This is how he trail races: run away and hide.  It doesn't matter if I'm his big brother.  I appreciate his ruthlessness. 

The start.  Photo by Fred Ross

The first two miles are basically uphill on dirt roads to reach Pisgah State Park.  I feel like climbing is an advantage for me, but I found myself trailing Greg, and not feeling good at all.  No one was yet nipping at my toes, and I had the thought that my race was already over.  Worse was the thought of suffering for the next hour and a half by myself.  I was totally lacking any killer instinct.  I ran on and had a moment of positivity when I was actually catching up to my brother on the screaming descent in the park.  Maybe I would catch him on the next long hill climb?  No dice.  He disappeared for good.  I felt crappy climbing again. 

The last couple of years I have been pushed by guys on my tail.  This can be crucial to make sure you are running your fastest during a trail race.  After I summited the long climb, I talked myself into working hard for the duration.  Even as my attitude improved, I was not getting the help I needed from behind.  I would glance back at spots with long looks and just not see anyone.  I knew that once I climbed the very long and challenging Pisgah Ridge and I still didn't see anybody, I was not going to be passed.  The ridge climb went okay - no hiking - didn't feel terrible.  Nobody in sight behind me.  My place was settled and I just needed to keep trying to reach my time goal. 

Somewhere around mile 8.  Photo by Fred Ross. 

The last five miles went well.  I felt stronger on the Davis Hill/Hubbard Hill than ever before.  Usually the roots in the deep woods feel terrible on tired sore feet, but not today.  According to a photographer I was a minute and a half back on Greg, and then a short time later I saw my sister-in-law Jen, who told me I was only a minute back.  Positivity flowed back through me.  Maybe he is tiring?  I just controlled what I could control which was my effort. 

Finally the end was near as I exited the park and made my way on the final mile plus road section (unpaved then paved).  As I made the crazy fast descent I got a glimpse of Greg.  Things could get interesting!  I didn't have much more to give since I was going all out, so I just had to keep at it.  There's a decent hill climb and knew that would be the deciding factor.  I reached the top and Greg wasn't that much closer.  I spent the last half mile chasing him, but the race finished and I was 28 seconds too slow. 

As I crossed the line I finally looked at my watch.  I had figured that I would have at least gotten the sub 1:40 I was looking for, especially since I was so close to Greg.  He told me before the race he was in 1:39 shape, but I figured he was really in 1:36 shape.  I was happy to check my time.  But what I saw was not what I was expecting.  1:42:17.  1:40 slower than last year.  Huh?  Hard to figure.  The weather was gorgeous and the woods were dry.  I'm chalking it up to three things: not pumped up beforehand, going out too fast the first 3 miles, and then not getting pushed from behind during the middle miles.  It does make a difference. 

Afterwards, I felt fine about the race.  This was definitely my chance to beat Greg in a race and I blew it.  Oh well.  It was fun and I'm always glad to hang out in Chesterfield. 

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