Playing in the mud
I have signed up for the Rattler Trail Races in Palmer Park four times. I've gotten to run only twice. Why? Well, there was the blizzard in 2016 that necessitated canceling the race when I was planning on running the 50k. In 2017, I was going to race the 25k only to have my eye flare up and not be able to run for a month prior to the race. Finally, in 2018 I was able to race! Only to have biting wind and cold, with a dusting of snow and ice to keep things spicy. For 2019, I opted to try my luck at the 50k again. Bad weather can't strike three times, right?
Wrong. Well, kinda wrong. There was no blizzard like in 2016 - at least at the start of the race. The brilliant sunshine of 2017 was only a glimmer of hope while I was driving over to Palmer Park. And while the wind wasn't quite at bad as 2018, the conditions on a whole defined adversity. The clouds descended onto the park, covering everything in mist. The temperature was hovering just around freezing - cold enough to pelt us with snow, but warm enough to keep the trails from freezing. Challenging conditions anywhere, but exactly the worst conditions for Palmer Park. Palmer Park needs to be either frozen solid or sunny and warm. Anything else had the high probability of turning into a mud pit. And with 5 hours of running ahead of me, I had a feeling at least a few places would be mud. Unless things changed - if the sun came out things could get steamy and humid. If the clouds dropped lower, there could be snow like at the last fall series race. I made sure I had some warmer clothes in my drop bag at the start/finish area and then opted to keep all my spare clothes in my pack as well. Spare gloves, hat, spare socks, extra layer... I could always drop it at the end of the first lap if things were warming up.
Of course, even though most of the field was bundled up, there were the usual suspects wearing shorts. I was chilly in my capris! I also had one of my thin wool shirts and my Gore jacket on. I'd decided while waiting in the porta-potty line to just wear my jacket under my pack. There was no way I was taking it off - at least for the first lap. About three minutes to go and I reluctantly stuffed my puffy coat in my drop bag. Time to go face the weather. We were all reluctant to get on the starting line, huddling together in a mass of runners just outside the chute. Denise coaxed us to the line, Justin gave some instructions and then we were off!
Into the depths of the park we headed, a stream of runners trying to find our places in the field. I made sure I was running comfortably - I've never done the 50k there, so wanted to make sure I didn't start too hard. Even so, I found myself in the lead for the women's race. But on the first climb, I knew that I couldn't focus on racing at all. The goal of the day would be to stay upright! There had been just enough moisture overnight to turn the upper layer of trail into mud and my shoes were slipping on the first climb. The rocks were made slick from the frozen rain and the dirt from other runner's shoes. Yep. This was going to be an interesting day! About a mile in, I had to stop to re-tie a shoe - the lacing for dry canyon running wasn't working for wet Palmer running. At that point, the second place woman, Megan Burke, passed me. It wasn't much of a gap and I was on her again pretty quick. But it was enough to indicated that there would be some racing in addition to playing in the mud.
Unlike in year's past, there was no visible course marking sabotage this year. Perhaps the nasty weather kept the angry dog walkers away? Who knows. But Justin and company did a great job marking the course, with plenty of blue flagging and directional signs. At Palmer Park, a great marking job is important - even when you know the course, it's still easy to get lost. I'd studied the map the night before, but it was a relief to see all the course markings still hanging. I could focus on my footing, staying upright in the mud and my tail. Yes, I had a tail. After I'd re-passed Megan, she'd gotten right on my tail, staying just behind me. Normally, I don't have a problem with that, but for some reason it was annoying me this time. Maybe because of the conditions - the risk of slipping was pretty high and I didn't want anyone falling into me and taking me down. Or maybe because she never said a word to me. I heard her chatting with some of the guys a few times on the second lap, but when she was behind me - silence. That was hard for me. Last few runs I've been a little more chatty and when the weather is that atrocious, you want to talk about it! Or at least I do. But I get it - this is a race.
After the first aid station, we headed out around Palmer Point. I was still in the lead, but when we hit the death mud at the point, I had to stop. My shoes were too loose and at risk of getting sucked off with each step. Megan went around me, only to get stymied by the mud and also have to stop to fix her shoes. I made no effort to pass, staying right behind her as we looped around the easier trail to the second aid station. This one we ran right through and Megan stopped to refill something. I was good, so kept running - getting a bit of a gap. I wasn't ready to make a move, so just kept up my steady pace. If she caught back on, so be it. And sure enough, just as we dropped back down to where the aid station was for the second round, she was right on my heels again. Still no attempts to get around, me, just staying right behind me. That continued all the way around Templeton trail, the two of us running together. Finally, we dropped down around the stables, heading for the 4th aid station. This was another run-through aid station, but again - I didn't need to stop. Megan pulled ahead by a few strides as we approached the aid station, only to swing over to the table to get another refill. Once again, I had a gap. As I started the Edna Mae stairs, the first two runners in the 25k caught me. The leader was running up the stairs! Even with the mud and slicker then snot conditions, he was bounding smoothly up the stairs. Not me. Nope. I was hiking, minding my footing. I'd gotten another gap with the aid station stop, but wasn't sure how long it was. I didn't want to start racing until the second lap, but decided to pick up the pace just a little and see what happened. When I reached the last aid station and merged with the 10k runners, I still had the gap.
Through the start/finish and then back out into the clouds. I could see Megan behind me, but it was maybe a minute or two. Still a distance that could easily be made up, so I would have to stay focused on running and not start day dreaming! Day dreaming sounded good at that point though - I was feeling better then I'd anticipated, but my legs were getting heavy from fighting through the mud. The conditions for the second lap were even harder. There would be negative splits this time! It was also getting a little warmer and the moisture was setting up into some solid soul sucking mud, as well as standard slime mud. Ugh. I tried running in the middle of the trail through the thin rivulet of water, knowing that keeping my shoes wet would keep the mud to a minimum. Thank goodness for wool socks... While that strategy definitely kept the mud down, it also made my shoes a little slicker then usual. Slippery rocks, wet shoes and day dreaming does not make a smart combo in Palmer Park! Yes, I ended up in the mud after stepping wrong on a rock. Whoops. Just a bruise on my hip and a scrape on my shin. And then the mental getting back in the game. As we descended down to the first aid station, I could hear foot steps in the mud. Yep, Megan had finally caught back on! It was a race again. This time after we passed the aid station and started out on Palmer Point trail, she made a move and passed me. Finally, I was the hunter again.
It didn't last long. Within three minutes, I was right on Megan's heels and planning on staying there. She was struggling with the mud though and slowing from the surge that had made the pass. The mud on Palmer Point was even worse then the first lap and trying to run the edges of the trail actually made it worse. I was still running in the middle, where the mud was the wettest and while there was mud building on my shoes, it wasn't as bad as on Megan's shoes. Or maybe after more then a few miles of death mud at CMSP during Stories, I was used to running in it... Either way, my plan to just hang out behind Megan was quickly tossed and I moved around her. Back into the lead, but still running comfortable. I still wasn't ready to start racing because of the mud.
Through the second aid station to cheers. Again, I didn't need to stop. I knew I wasn't drinking enough, but it was so cold I didn't feel like drinking. The sun was trying to come out and I was starting to think about my sunglasses perched on the top of my head. Now would be a good time to get them ready, before we hit the rocks of Templeton. When I put them on, the lenses were coated with ice on the outside and fogged up on the inside. Luckily I had a tissue! I chipped the ice off, wiped the inside of the lenses and yes - my eyes were happy again. It was a weird amount of light filtering from the clouds. Not quite dark enough for me to get away without sunglasses, but not quite light enough for sunglasses. In the shadowy areas, I had to take them off, but when the trail was out of the trees I needed them. I was happy I'd left them on my head instead of in the car though.
Past the turn off to the aid station. Still no Megan. I could hear voices behind me, so I knew she'd gotten together with one of the guys in the race and was just behind me. Funny that she could chat with the guys, but never say a peep to me... Oh well, it was a race. Finally she made the catch again, just as we started the descend off Templeton towards the next aid station. And again, no effort to pass once she'd made the catch. This time, she didn't even pull ahead as we approached the aid station. Hummm. She also slowed and asked the volunteers loud enough that I could hear her if they had a gu or gel or something. Hummm again. I power hiked up the Edna Mae stairs, pondering my options. There weren't too many miles left. If I was to make a move, it had to be soon. I'd been running my own pace the entire time, never chasing. Would that tip in my favor? Megan got close enough for me to hear her at the top of the stairs, but she never really made the catch. If I was going to go, it had to be soon. Once we got off Edna Mae and onto Templeton, I made my move. Technical running, mud, trails I knew - it all worked in my favor. I had a mile of techy running to use to my advantage before hitting the easy trails leading to the finish. There was no response behind me. Turning off Templeton onto the Yucca Flats double track, no sign of Megan. Maybe the move had been enough? I had three miles left to run - there was no backing down at that point. The carefree, cheerful attitude of playing in the mud was gone, replaced by focus. One goal, one step at a time, each one taking me closer to the finish line. At the final aid station, I was able to get a glance of what was going on behind me. Almost a minute gap. I had to make sure that was enough and there would be no surprises in the final mile.
While my pre-race time goal had come and gone a few miles before the finish and the goal of running negative splits was sucked away with the mud, I was still really pleased with the race. Finally, I'd had the strength in the final miles to make something happen. I felt really strong running the entire day despite the conditions. Pre-race goals have to be measured based on conditions and it's not worth stressing about that during the race. Everyone is facing the same struggles in the mist and mud, so while time matters, it's not the end all of the race. For conditions like the 2019 Rattler, it was a mental race as well - who was most prepared for the mud and most able to handle the added stresses of running in the mud. Congrats to everyone who tackled the mud and reached the finish line! Hopefully the next race will be a little drier...
Wrong. Well, kinda wrong. There was no blizzard like in 2016 - at least at the start of the race. The brilliant sunshine of 2017 was only a glimmer of hope while I was driving over to Palmer Park. And while the wind wasn't quite at bad as 2018, the conditions on a whole defined adversity. The clouds descended onto the park, covering everything in mist. The temperature was hovering just around freezing - cold enough to pelt us with snow, but warm enough to keep the trails from freezing. Challenging conditions anywhere, but exactly the worst conditions for Palmer Park. Palmer Park needs to be either frozen solid or sunny and warm. Anything else had the high probability of turning into a mud pit. And with 5 hours of running ahead of me, I had a feeling at least a few places would be mud. Unless things changed - if the sun came out things could get steamy and humid. If the clouds dropped lower, there could be snow like at the last fall series race. I made sure I had some warmer clothes in my drop bag at the start/finish area and then opted to keep all my spare clothes in my pack as well. Spare gloves, hat, spare socks, extra layer... I could always drop it at the end of the first lap if things were warming up.
Of course, even though most of the field was bundled up, there were the usual suspects wearing shorts. I was chilly in my capris! I also had one of my thin wool shirts and my Gore jacket on. I'd decided while waiting in the porta-potty line to just wear my jacket under my pack. There was no way I was taking it off - at least for the first lap. About three minutes to go and I reluctantly stuffed my puffy coat in my drop bag. Time to go face the weather. We were all reluctant to get on the starting line, huddling together in a mass of runners just outside the chute. Denise coaxed us to the line, Justin gave some instructions and then we were off!
 |
| Heading out into the mud... Photo - Todd Short |
Into the depths of the park we headed, a stream of runners trying to find our places in the field. I made sure I was running comfortably - I've never done the 50k there, so wanted to make sure I didn't start too hard. Even so, I found myself in the lead for the women's race. But on the first climb, I knew that I couldn't focus on racing at all. The goal of the day would be to stay upright! There had been just enough moisture overnight to turn the upper layer of trail into mud and my shoes were slipping on the first climb. The rocks were made slick from the frozen rain and the dirt from other runner's shoes. Yep. This was going to be an interesting day! About a mile in, I had to stop to re-tie a shoe - the lacing for dry canyon running wasn't working for wet Palmer running. At that point, the second place woman, Megan Burke, passed me. It wasn't much of a gap and I was on her again pretty quick. But it was enough to indicated that there would be some racing in addition to playing in the mud.
Unlike in year's past, there was no visible course marking sabotage this year. Perhaps the nasty weather kept the angry dog walkers away? Who knows. But Justin and company did a great job marking the course, with plenty of blue flagging and directional signs. At Palmer Park, a great marking job is important - even when you know the course, it's still easy to get lost. I'd studied the map the night before, but it was a relief to see all the course markings still hanging. I could focus on my footing, staying upright in the mud and my tail. Yes, I had a tail. After I'd re-passed Megan, she'd gotten right on my tail, staying just behind me. Normally, I don't have a problem with that, but for some reason it was annoying me this time. Maybe because of the conditions - the risk of slipping was pretty high and I didn't want anyone falling into me and taking me down. Or maybe because she never said a word to me. I heard her chatting with some of the guys a few times on the second lap, but when she was behind me - silence. That was hard for me. Last few runs I've been a little more chatty and when the weather is that atrocious, you want to talk about it! Or at least I do. But I get it - this is a race.
After the first aid station, we headed out around Palmer Point. I was still in the lead, but when we hit the death mud at the point, I had to stop. My shoes were too loose and at risk of getting sucked off with each step. Megan went around me, only to get stymied by the mud and also have to stop to fix her shoes. I made no effort to pass, staying right behind her as we looped around the easier trail to the second aid station. This one we ran right through and Megan stopped to refill something. I was good, so kept running - getting a bit of a gap. I wasn't ready to make a move, so just kept up my steady pace. If she caught back on, so be it. And sure enough, just as we dropped back down to where the aid station was for the second round, she was right on my heels again. Still no attempts to get around, me, just staying right behind me. That continued all the way around Templeton trail, the two of us running together. Finally, we dropped down around the stables, heading for the 4th aid station. This was another run-through aid station, but again - I didn't need to stop. Megan pulled ahead by a few strides as we approached the aid station, only to swing over to the table to get another refill. Once again, I had a gap. As I started the Edna Mae stairs, the first two runners in the 25k caught me. The leader was running up the stairs! Even with the mud and slicker then snot conditions, he was bounding smoothly up the stairs. Not me. Nope. I was hiking, minding my footing. I'd gotten another gap with the aid station stop, but wasn't sure how long it was. I didn't want to start racing until the second lap, but decided to pick up the pace just a little and see what happened. When I reached the last aid station and merged with the 10k runners, I still had the gap.
Through the start/finish and then back out into the clouds. I could see Megan behind me, but it was maybe a minute or two. Still a distance that could easily be made up, so I would have to stay focused on running and not start day dreaming! Day dreaming sounded good at that point though - I was feeling better then I'd anticipated, but my legs were getting heavy from fighting through the mud. The conditions for the second lap were even harder. There would be negative splits this time! It was also getting a little warmer and the moisture was setting up into some solid soul sucking mud, as well as standard slime mud. Ugh. I tried running in the middle of the trail through the thin rivulet of water, knowing that keeping my shoes wet would keep the mud to a minimum. Thank goodness for wool socks... While that strategy definitely kept the mud down, it also made my shoes a little slicker then usual. Slippery rocks, wet shoes and day dreaming does not make a smart combo in Palmer Park! Yes, I ended up in the mud after stepping wrong on a rock. Whoops. Just a bruise on my hip and a scrape on my shin. And then the mental getting back in the game. As we descended down to the first aid station, I could hear foot steps in the mud. Yep, Megan had finally caught back on! It was a race again. This time after we passed the aid station and started out on Palmer Point trail, she made a move and passed me. Finally, I was the hunter again.
It didn't last long. Within three minutes, I was right on Megan's heels and planning on staying there. She was struggling with the mud though and slowing from the surge that had made the pass. The mud on Palmer Point was even worse then the first lap and trying to run the edges of the trail actually made it worse. I was still running in the middle, where the mud was the wettest and while there was mud building on my shoes, it wasn't as bad as on Megan's shoes. Or maybe after more then a few miles of death mud at CMSP during Stories, I was used to running in it... Either way, my plan to just hang out behind Megan was quickly tossed and I moved around her. Back into the lead, but still running comfortable. I still wasn't ready to start racing because of the mud.
Through the second aid station to cheers. Again, I didn't need to stop. I knew I wasn't drinking enough, but it was so cold I didn't feel like drinking. The sun was trying to come out and I was starting to think about my sunglasses perched on the top of my head. Now would be a good time to get them ready, before we hit the rocks of Templeton. When I put them on, the lenses were coated with ice on the outside and fogged up on the inside. Luckily I had a tissue! I chipped the ice off, wiped the inside of the lenses and yes - my eyes were happy again. It was a weird amount of light filtering from the clouds. Not quite dark enough for me to get away without sunglasses, but not quite light enough for sunglasses. In the shadowy areas, I had to take them off, but when the trail was out of the trees I needed them. I was happy I'd left them on my head instead of in the car though.
Past the turn off to the aid station. Still no Megan. I could hear voices behind me, so I knew she'd gotten together with one of the guys in the race and was just behind me. Funny that she could chat with the guys, but never say a peep to me... Oh well, it was a race. Finally she made the catch again, just as we started the descend off Templeton towards the next aid station. And again, no effort to pass once she'd made the catch. This time, she didn't even pull ahead as we approached the aid station. Hummm. She also slowed and asked the volunteers loud enough that I could hear her if they had a gu or gel or something. Hummm again. I power hiked up the Edna Mae stairs, pondering my options. There weren't too many miles left. If I was to make a move, it had to be soon. I'd been running my own pace the entire time, never chasing. Would that tip in my favor? Megan got close enough for me to hear her at the top of the stairs, but she never really made the catch. If I was going to go, it had to be soon. Once we got off Edna Mae and onto Templeton, I made my move. Technical running, mud, trails I knew - it all worked in my favor. I had a mile of techy running to use to my advantage before hitting the easy trails leading to the finish. There was no response behind me. Turning off Templeton onto the Yucca Flats double track, no sign of Megan. Maybe the move had been enough? I had three miles left to run - there was no backing down at that point. The carefree, cheerful attitude of playing in the mud was gone, replaced by focus. One goal, one step at a time, each one taking me closer to the finish line. At the final aid station, I was able to get a glance of what was going on behind me. Almost a minute gap. I had to make sure that was enough and there would be no surprises in the final mile.
 |
| Mud is the story of the year so far! |
While my pre-race time goal had come and gone a few miles before the finish and the goal of running negative splits was sucked away with the mud, I was still really pleased with the race. Finally, I'd had the strength in the final miles to make something happen. I felt really strong running the entire day despite the conditions. Pre-race goals have to be measured based on conditions and it's not worth stressing about that during the race. Everyone is facing the same struggles in the mist and mud, so while time matters, it's not the end all of the race. For conditions like the 2019 Rattler, it was a mental race as well - who was most prepared for the mud and most able to handle the added stresses of running in the mud. Congrats to everyone who tackled the mud and reached the finish line! Hopefully the next race will be a little drier...
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