Monday, August 22, 2011

The Need For Speed

I had a reality check when I got the results of the ITT (Iroquois) I finished in 2:11. The winner in the 60+, the perennially fast Chris ran a 1:34 putting him in the top ten overall. I was 27/51 overall.  fourth in my class. Even it I had not been so stupid to get lost for 30 minutes. I would have been only 2nd. As it turned out 2nd was only 7 minutes ahead me so I guess I am only mortal running with the mortals. Chris runs with the GODS!
I had better get going on the speed work.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Iroquoia Trial Test

The organizing club of the Iroquois are blessed with the fantastic Trail system  of the Bruce Trail and were able to run a number races over different distance. I chose the out and back 15k as my friend Roger was running the out and back 50k and was using all of the 15k loop so I could see how he was doing at least twice.
The 50k started early and the 15k about one hour later.  The first 100M was across a large field to a single track trail were we got bunched up in to a single file. I could hear some one shouting instructions and was surprised to discover blind runner Elizabeth and her guide Amie just in front  of me. I ran with them for about 4k until the trail started to get very rough with bowling ball size rocks and steep climbs along the Niagara Escarpment. I decided to leave them at this point as I was too much of a distraction and it was a dangerous part of the course.
 Where it  was good footing I ran hard, but picked my way slowly if the difficult sections. 
Surprisingly I passed a lot of runners and reached the turn around with out incident. On the way back I passed Amie and Elizabeth heading to the turn around. They had make great time on the good part of the trail. When I can to the Escarpment I made a wrong turn and after a long decent ended up on a Hwy. I ran along the Hwy about 2k looking for trail signs when I ran into a check point from the wrong direction. They sent back up the escarpment where I saw the trail sign I had missed. A dum error that cost me 30 minutes. My only excuse is that I was looking down at my footing and missed the sign on a tree. I cursed on to the finish a most enjoyable race on a great course. It should be noted that Roger and a Blind runner and her guide did not make the same "Bone Head" mistake I did. I will be back for the 50k next year.

Friday, August 19, 2011

The Joy of Running

I "jump" with the bang of the gun.
Slowly at first, confined by the crush of the  crowd I start to run
Faster and faster as the runners start to stretch out
A sea of multicolored jerseys undulating over the rolling
country road
I will the sweet air deep into my lungs
A light sweat forms and I feel my stride begin to Quicken
My feet tap the moving ground with a light caress
I start to pass and I am passed
The energy of the runners carries me
I feel great! My heart is filled with......JOY

Thursday, August 18, 2011

The Hill

I was in trouble,my legs felt like led. Each step up the incline took a gigantic effort. My eight minute mile pace had slowed to a crawl. I could hear my breath exit my lungs like a baby`s sob. My feet felt like they were encased in cement. Twenty miles to go, I can`t do it.
How did this happen!
I remember powering over this hill.
Wait a minute that was fourty years ago!
I pondered the passing years as I plodded up the mountain, eyes to the ground with an occasional glance towards the summit.
Suddenly, a bike appeared, comming down toward me. The rider was low over the bars. I could see it was a woman,the streaming air plastering her tunic to her chest. Long red hair erupting from under her helmit and flapping like a Canada flag over her back.
In a flash of color, sweat and perfume she streaked by.
I, continued my ponderous climb, day dreaming of younger days, running with friends for the pure JOY of it, the wind in our faces, the miles dancing away under our feet. Most are dead now.
My feet are thunping on the road, my lungs are burning. I was about to come to a wimpering stop.
Then I hear it! A sgueaking, almost in time with my labored breathing. Its the girl, grinding her bike back up the mountain.The bike`s clip ons squeaking under the powerful force of her bulging thigh muscles. She pulls even to me, she glances at me. Her green eyes are shinning like stone jade in the sun light. Instead of the expected look of pity when she saw my old face, a slow smile curved on her lips, as if we were co-conspirators in something devilish. She powered past, her gluts exoticaly contracting and relaxing under her tight bike shorts, sweat rivulets madking zigzag lines across her taunt calf muscles.
She grew steadly smaller and smaller intill she disappeard over the crest.
I never saw her again, although I ran up that mountain many times that summer.
I still do the odd Ultra Marathon, and meet old guys like me thudding down trail. No I don`t ever win anything other that the joy of it. I am very slow but I can still KILL on the hills.