Peak Race for my New Decade

This weekend I'll be smiling pretty in Pittsfield, Vermont to receive some (birthday) spanks by the Peak Race course. 

 

"Please sir, I want some more?"

I’m in no condition to run a half-marathon on trail sneakers let alone snowshoes, but there it is-- two loops up and down the mountain. Then cake, yes. Cake. Followed by a little more cake, fuzzy drink, fuzzy sleeping bag, fuzzy socks, friends and fire.  Yes, this sounds like a good way to ring in my new decade!

Predictions of snow will only make the Friday and Saturday more memorable…THAT and spending the night and day with my running TUGgers. What fun to meet up again with Breakheart Dan, Kevin Z, Michelle R, and Steve LaTour.  It’s been too long. Will miss other core members who couldn’t make the trek!

So I checked out the event roster and heck, there are a lot of familiar names! This is going to be epic. Looks like a huge crowd overall so I might as well take it from the rear. With 10 hours to complete the miles, I think I can take this on very easily and make it all about the company, the views and being present, every step—every breath.

Hopefully Dan will venture out there with me for a loop; our training is at about the same level  (long pause here…). We have a great time no matter what our speed. I’ve done two snowshoe races of up to 7k and a recent treadmill run for 30 minutes at 3% to 5% grade. This is going to be interesting.
 

I’ve been looking forward to this. 

 

BUT, I’ll have to finish before I have any cake!

Granite State Snowshoe Races: Horse Hill and Beaver Brook

After what feels like an eternity, I’m easing back into running. It feels good. Yes, please, I'll take it... no matter how short or long it may be.

This season, I ran some snowshoe races as a member of the Dungeon Rock Racing team. While these are “races,” I am not in any condition to run faster than "to finish" with a smile and a quickened heart beat. Thus, for me, Feel Good Farm, Horse Hill, and Beaver Brook snowshoe races were three "quit riding the pine and get out there" training runs with much needed pushes, and of course the social outlet!

HORSE HILL

The snow conditions at Horse Hill were excellent—even the looser snow that just made me work harder.  It’s been two years since I ran the Horse SS. Steve Wolfe designed a great new course; alas, he must’ve missed my memo to please "avoid that tough climb up Horse Hill"....errr, then what would we call the race, miss smarty pants?  

I did well not to keel over in need of CPR on the hands-to-my-knees ascent. I must have blocked that hill from my memory when I ran here in 2009. But the nightmare of that incline recalled like a two-year-old big bologna sandwich.

This was my first run since Feel Good Farm a month earlier and I could feel my limit come and go with approximately one mile remaining. (Got to start back somewhere!) I dug deeper and stoked my running sticks with some mental positive thinking. The last ½ mile was open and flattish. I had a lot of kick along that stretch, which lead me to believe I could have worked harder out there. I was sorry to miss the Martha’s Exchange outing of laughs and libations with the Turtles!

Horse Hill SS Race Start

Photo credit: Gianina Lindsey 

More of her photos HERE

BEAVER BROOK

 

The 2011 course was amazing (minus the snow-naked stretch of Dion-damaging bare asphalt —boohiss). Wolfe was also behind the new course design, minus the two day thaw!  Its varied terrain was playfully challenging. It was also a bit longer than 5k at approx. 3.3 miles versus the “so-last-year” shorter 2.9 mile out-and-back course.  

I loved the rollers, mostly single track trail, small bridge and water crossings, hugging the edge of a pond, and zigzags through the woods. 

But, no beavers, alas, they must be busy... 

  

The Beaver Brook began bitterly with a mean wind ripping through my shirt and up my skirt.  woot'n-bbrrr. I spent less time socializing than I wished and more time in my car warming/waiting. BUT a major plus was that I got to share that time and chat with ultra-runner friend, Melanie! She was sweet to come and visit!

Time was too-short and I lined up behind some other Stone Cat friends at the back of the pack. I heat up like a teakettle—low-on-water—so I was more than toasty in five minutes. 

Yes, I AM a little tea pot...

I met up with some folks from DRR, Dan, Elaine, Patrick and Tula (woof). I hope next year I get to know these folks better, perhaps through more training at The Lynn Woods. Also I hope this new course will be used for a trail run there post snowshoe season.  

EXTRAS

It’s always a joy to see the Turtles! Two Beaver Tails-Up to Scott and his teammates. Good times. 

 
Cheerful quote from Bill Howard upon my 
crossing the BB finish line:
“Alright, you did it! Another finish.”

(Above) Bill Howard and me, a beaver sock totin' TUGger.

Two (above) Photo Credits: Scott Mason

Indeed, another finish!

It’s a start.

Mad

Next weekend can't come soon enough. 

I long to strap on my snowshoes and trek the 400+ acre tract I affectionately nickname the "North 40." I will blaze and meander snowy terrain, randomly follow purposeful tracks, and wind my way to an untouched field. This open farmland whose farthest corners perch high on the hill with corners tucked into the hiding places along stone walls. Yes, there I will go.


Rhythmic paw prints keep score—in double-four time— across a lofty comforter of snow. Follow, turn, and pause. Two paths not yet crossing, not yet uniting. Are these merely woodland strangers or winter foe? Will heedful hare meet craving coyote? I'll never know. Before the finale, impressions retreat under rocks and fallen ash. 


I'll hurdle the rocky partition and seek easier footing along a hooved-highway for back-40 travel. Here deer tracks and dugout ditches bumper oaks for acorn delights. Above, chickadees flit and flee branches scouting for their rations. and the echoing beat of excavating woodpeckers will have long since faded. Beech tree hangs on; its tan flags fluttering.  


Why circle back too soon to the pastureland?  Winter will fold to spring and un-hem snowy edges for fray grassy trim.  Because I must; it feeds my soul. Last fall this patch was chock-full of bull. That morning the sun sparkled along nearly invisible though electrified wire—a humble barrier between me and the tail-flicking, fly-decorated, hot and horned cattle— aw, heck. 

Yes, there I shall go.