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| "Ha ha, the joke's on you!" |
~ Charles Dickens, clearly writing about ultra running
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Halfway through the race, the Baker Lake 50K was shaping up to be one of my best 50Ks ever.
Until it wasn't.
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I'd heard mixed reviews about this event, ranging from faint praise to "Pacific Northwest classic!" [Spoiler alert: it is excellent.]
The trails around Baker Lake are a celebration of PNW terrain—rolling, runnable, occasionally technical, and ferally fun. The views are nonstop—mountain, river, lake, and fall colors laced with cobwebby clouds.
It was the perfect stage for a day of tomfoolery on the trails—running with a good friend, jabbering endlessly about life and work and politics and the future. The first 15+ miles flowed by like, "Hey, feel free to do this all day if you want."
Hahaha! Those miles lied.
The NEXT 15+ miles quickly and unexpectedly turned petulant, like a two year old up way past his bedtime. My stomach, ingrate that it is, abruptly scorned my efforts to keep it happy. Even the ritual chewing of the S-Caps was met with disdain. This behavior continued through the rest of the race, just because.
In the meantime, I rammed my knee into a fallen tree. This can happen during a trail run, and honestly I didn't mind picking the sharp little tree-shard out of my flesh. But the immediate swelling and stiffness? That was uncalled-for.
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| "Why do you run through these woods? Nothing good will come of it!" |
I'd be fibbing if I said these little setbacks weren't beclouding my sunny demeanor. By mile 27 I was not having the best of times. On a day that was as near-perfect as October PNW running can be, this was a shame and a travesty. Inexcusable, really. And yet, there I was, shambling about like a bridge troll, just wanting to be done.
Tsk. Pitiful.
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Full disclosure: it wasn't all bad. I encouraged other runners who were having struggles of their own. I shared some naproxen with a woman whose hips were giving her fits. I stopped to take photos of some amazing scenery and picked up litter when I saw it. It helped.
The miles, still stubborn, eventually gave way, and soon I was crossing the Upper Baker Dam, less than a mile from the finish.
And while I had hoped to roll in under six hours, my finish, race-wise, wasn't as disappointing as I convinced myself it would be.
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"And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire."
~ Dickens, again on running, probably
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Baker Lake 50k
6:08:21
56/140 (overall)
4/16 (M 50-59)
Shoes:
Hoka Speedgoat 3
Song stuck in my head part of the time:
"We got the beat" ~ The Go-Go's
6:08:21
56/140 (overall)
4/16 (M 50-59)
Shoes:
Hoka Speedgoat 3
Song stuck in my head part of the time:
"We got the beat" ~ The Go-Go's
