Bitten by the Race Bug (YUTC Race Report)

Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of running one of the most wonderful races of my short running career, the Youngstown Ultra Trail Classic, or YUT-C, as it is more commonly referred.  I had signed up for the 25K, as I wasn't sure that I wanted to train through the summer heat and work obligations for a 50K.  I had anticipated this race all summer as it would mark my first non-winter trail race and it was held in Mill Creek Park in Youngstown, Ohio. As a Mahoning Valley native that graduated from nearby Hubbard High School, the opportunity to enjoy a trail race on my old stomping grounds was not to be missed. And, of course, I have slowly been finding myself drawn in by the awesome trail running community in Ohio. 

Since the race was a three hour drive from my current abode in Columbus, I opted drive up the night before and stay with my mother in Hubbard *insert Old Mother Hubbard joke here*.  Francesco's pizza, the BEST Sicilian-style pizza in Northeast Ohio, was on the menu as my pre-race meal. I was happy to learn that my younger sister Brittany, an avid runner in her own right, was willing to get out of bed early on a Saturday morning to cheer me on. By 10:30, we had said our good-nights and I headed up to bed. 

In spite of a relatively late race time of 8am, I was awake at 5:30am. I am one of those morning runners that needs lots of time to eat, digest, dress, and generally wake up before hitting the trail. This is precisely why I do not run in the morning before work...I'd have to get up at 2:30am to fit it all in!  I had my usual pre-run breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, toast, a banana, juice, and a half cup of black coffee. I like having a solid meal before I run, and I have learned that the protein in the eggs helps with satiety throughout my run. Since I have spent so much of the year recovering from various injuries, I decided to go all out on the lower body compression wear. I wore my CW-X compression shorts and a pair of CEP calf sleeves. Since the only pair of trail shoes that I owned, Brooks Cascadias, did not offer enough support for me, I decided to run the race in my Mizuno Inspires, which are road shoes. Lately, I am realizing that while lots of cushioning feels great initially, over the long haul, a firmer shoe such as the Inspire seems to serve me much better. I didn't think that Mill Creeks Park's trails would be such that a trail shoe would be needed anyway. The biggest part of my wardrobe was not what I wore, but what I didn't wear. I still have not replaced my Garmin 405 that crapped out on me a month and a half ago, so I decided to go "old school" and wear a good old fashioned Timex watch. I'd be running based on effort, not on feedback from a GPS. I was actually quite interested in how I'd do using that technique...you know, running on feel. The race wear was capped out with my Central Ohio Trail Runners shirt that Kat gifted me at Umstead, and a visor as opposed to a hat so I would not overheat.

At 6:40am I picked up Brittany and we made our way to the Fellows Riverside Gardens part of Mill Creek Park. One thing that astounded me was how quick of a drive it was from Hubbard. I haven't lived in the area for over 12 years, and back then everything always seemed to be so far away from where we lived, but we were literally parking the car in about 15 minutes. Nice. We walked from my car down behind the gardens to the Old Log Cabin where the start/finish was located. I picked up my race packet, pinned on my race number, and then walked back up to my car to pack away my goodie bag. On the way up, we ran into Mike Keller, another central Ohio trail runner who I had met while pacing Kat at Umstead. Once we got back down to the start/finish, people I knew started coming out of the woodwork - Linda from Turtle Thursdays, Mark Carroll, Kimba...this is one of the things I have come to enjoy about trail races very quickly: they are like family reunions! And I meet more new awesome people every time I get out and run.

After a few parting words from Bob Combs, the race director, we were finally on our way. The morning was beautiful - around 60 degrees and partly cloudy. It was truly a perfect day for a race like this. The first part of the race is on pavement for about a half mile or so before hitting a steep iron stair case. Of course, since I always take my rightful starting place near the back of the pack, this meant that there was a huge bottleneck of people waiting to go up. One thing I have learned early on with trail races is that in the beginning of the race, it is extra crowded and it takes time for the pack to thin out. Thankfully, I was in no big hurry and was fine with the crowd. Once we summitted the stairs, we were finally on some single track.

The trail along Lake Glacier was full of small ascents and descents. It was a little more slippery than I had anticipated, so for a few moments I had wondered if road shoes were a good idea. I am still not very confident on trail yet; and since the trail was still crowded, I didn't want to take the chance of falling into someone and potentially ruining their day. Again, I had to be patient. We finally had a couple good walking hills; one of which was considerably pitched. At the top of this hill lies what I later learned was referred to as the "Love Log". Apparently this moniker was derived via the most common technique used to get over the obstacle: you literally have to belly crawl over it, and it looks kinda like you're giving the log a little lovin' ;).  At least, that was MY interpretation of the name. 

Once we were past Lake Glacier,  we were then running along side Lake Cohasset, where the trail was flatter, but suddenly full of rocks and roots. I really wanted to take off a little here, but again I was very apprehensive. Since most of my technical trail running took place over the winter when the snow packed in obstacles such as rocks and roots, I wasn't well-practiced in the art of not face-planting. Since I really wanted to get out of the race intact, I slowed down as to minimize my chances of taking a spill. Finally, after an hour of running, I arrived at the covered bridge aid station, which was about 4 miles into the race. Well, 4 miles an hour was pretty slow-going, so I was hoping that the aid stop would thin the crowd a little. I refilled my water and got on my merry way.

Getting a refill at the Covered Bridge Aid Station. Photo credit: Jeff Musick

Once I left the aid station at the covered bridge, my wish was granted: the throngs of people had finally thinned out! I was sufficiently warmed up and feeling a bit more confident, so I was ready to see what I was made of with loop 1 around Lake Newport. I made my way into the woods and picked up the pace. I felt really good at this point and wasn't too worried about going too fast...it was only 25K! I was doing a much better job of negotiating the obstacles on the trail; I actually felt nimble and in control as opposed to my usual state of clumsy and uncoordinated. I cruised along the water and side-stepped a large root mass when suddenly I felt a searing, tearing pain in my right peroneal muscles (lower side of the leg in front of the calf). Oh #$%^!!! I was certain I had torn the muscle. The pain ached and burned like nothing I had ever felt. It took my breath away. I pulled off the trail for a moment to collect myself and to decide what I wanted to do about the situation. I could turn around and walk back to the aid station and just drop. No, I am NOT dropping out of a freakin' 25K race. I'd barely made it 5 miles for Pete's sake! So, I got back on the trail and decided to walk for a few and see how the leg felt. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. It really hurt, but I seemed to be OK walking, so I tried to jog a bit. It hurt, but the pain was tolerable. I decided to just run very delicately and see what happens. In the back of my mind, I felt I was once again being foolish. I mean, I am really going to try to run with a torn muscle?!? On trail??? But, I hadn't arrived at the starting line of a goal race all year healthy enough to finish, and I was so looking forward to this race. I had to try to stick it out, even if it was stupid. If the pain was excruciating by the time I got back to the covered bridge, I would call it a day. Good plan.

So, I started jogging along, with all sorts of anxiety-ridden thoughts mulling around in my head: What if my leg was really hurt bad? How much rehab will I need? Will I at least be able to do a spring 50K? Maybe trail running isn't for me; I can't even make it 5 miles without hurting myself! As all this dialogue was fluttering about in my brain, I realized that I had run at least 2-2.5 miles. While the pain was steadily increasing, it really wasn't affected by the running all that much. Odd. I really didn't want to pull down the compression sleeve on my calf to look at the damage; I had convinced myself that the sleeve was probably holding my musculature in place and that to remove the sleeve would be to cripple myself for life.  Well, I had to look. I stopped at a footbridge over a small stream and peeled the stocking away. There, on the side of my leg was a red swelling with a huge bloody hole at the top. I didn't tear anything...I got stung by something. Something NASTY! HAPPY DAY!!!!! I had never been so excited to have been attacked by nature in my life. I wasn't injured at all. I was just having a really painful response to the venom in my leg. I seriously felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders and from there I took off down the trail feeling so much better about everything.

Have you ever given yourself a paper cut and not realized it? And when you suddenly realize the cut is there, it is THAT precise moment when it starts to hurt? Well, the sting hurt a bit before I discovered what it really was, but it REALLY started to become excruciating after I looked at it.  I had told myself before that I really needed to learn to run through pain, so I guess I was going to get schooled today! I continued to amble along the trail when the harsh breeze of the 50K race leader blew by me on his second lap around Lake Newport. I got lapped. Talk about getting schooled! A few moments later, I felt a quick pat on my shoulder and heard the words "nice work" as Shaun Pope, who was currently a short distance behind the dude who blew by me a few moments earlier, also made his way to pass me. Shaun is seriously one of the nicest young men I have encountered in any race, and the fact that he would make it a point to encourage me while in a dog fight of his own meant a lot to me. Shaun passed me so quick that I didn't have a chance to offer my own encouragement, but in my head I was willing him to win this thing. I watched in amazement as he went bouncing down the next hill with such fearlessness! I noticed that in many of the other front runners that eventually lapped me: they had no fear of the trail whatsoever. They ran across those knarly trails so smoothly, you'd think they were on flat pavement and not on trail. As I meekly tip-toed down the little hill Shaun just attacked with abandon, I made a mental note to myself:  learn to run FEARLESSLY. 

Trying to run fearlessly! Photo credit: Jeff Musick

As I continued on through the rest of the loop, I caught up to a young lady named Courtney, who I had met earlier in the race. I told her of my encounter with the demon hornet from hell (seriously, what WAS that thing??), as I thought it would be helpful for someone to know what happened in case I had a delayed allergic reaction and passed out on the trail. We ended up sharing the rest of the loop together. When we rolled back into the covered bridge aid station, I told the volunteers of my situation with the sting and asked if they had anything at all for the pain that was still getting worse and worse. Thankfully, they had bee sting sticks, and one of the awesome volunteers lubed up my leg with the stuff. I again refilled my water and looked forward to loop 2 with just a little bit of paranoia. I knew I would have to revisit the scene of the crime and I was hopeful that lightening would not strike twice with regards to the hornets. Apparently, ground hornets abound in the park this time of year, and I am not the first person to get stung in the history of the race.  I told myself that I needed to quit worrying and get going. It was just a little bug bite! Really! As an aside, I managed the 4 mile loop in just around 40 minutes. With all the drama that took place during the loop, I was pretty speedy, at least for me. Win!

Getting ready to attack loop 2! Photo credit: Sharon Dimuzio

Loop number two was fairly uneventful. I made it through the part of the course where I got stung earlier without incident and the pain in my leg was finally starting to lessen. For as crowded as the trail was earlier, I was completely alone now. I was finally starting to notice that I was also feeling a little fatigued. I took my second gel - a Honey Stinger (irony, much?) - and waited for the boost to kick in.  As I ran and waited, I encountered Linda Reeder, who had attended a few of our Turtle Thursday runs with the Cbus Pacers over the winter.  She was walking and was very emotional as she had taken a nasty fall earlier and had scraped up her hand. I walked with her for a while and tried my best to lift her spirits and get her running again. After between 5-10 minutes of walking, I had to get moving along. I wished Linda well and hoped that she would work through her bad patch and finish. I was dangling precariously close to having a fall of my own at this point, as I was starting to trip more and more on this loop. About halfway through the loop, I was stuck in a trail train of two guys in front of me and one woman behind me, when I suddenly stubbed my toe and went flying forward. I literally came within millimeters of having my head up the butt of the guy in front of me. Of course, that set off a litany of head-ass jokes as we all continued together on the trail. Lesson learned about following too closely :).

I finished the second Newport Lake loop in about 50 minutes. Although I had no goal but to have a good time on the course, in the back of my mind, I thought a sub-3 hour finish was doable. The Timex read about 2:30 when I made my final visit to the covered bridge before heading to the finish.  I had no idea exactly how much further I had to run before I was done, so I asked one of the volunteers, "How much farther, Papa Smurf?!" The answer was 3.5 miles. Poop. I was getting tired anyway, so I decided to walk the little stretch of road that was left before getting back on the trail. Once on the trail, I looked up ahead and noticed  Mike Keller! I bolted down the trail (fearlessly, I might add!) to catch up with him. Mike is a much more experienced and faster trail runner than I am, so if I managed to catch up to him, then he must have been having a bad race. Indeed, his stomach was not cooperating with him, as he was battling the effects of nausea. I offered to finish the race with him if he wanted some company for the rest of the race. He was all for that and I was happy to have his wit and humor along with me for the rest of my own race. We ran when Mike felt he could, and walked and joked the rest of the time.  Of course, I tripped and stumbled more than I care to mention during this part of the race. The social runner in me and the runner that is still learning the ways of the trail have not yet learned to coexist. Since I was usually running in front of Mike, anytime I had something to say to him, I would instinctively turn around to talk, which meant taking my eyes off the trail in front of me. Inevitably, I would trip and Mike would kindly remind me to keep my eyes on the trail. Yep, need to work on that. Nonetheless, I enjoyed Mike's company tremendously and was disappointed when the finish line finally came into view.  Mike, being the gentleman that he is (only after trying to elbow me off the road and drag me backwards by my water belt...haha!) allowed me to cross the line in front of him.  We finished the race in 3:16. 

Finishing the race with gentleman Mike right behind! Photo credit: Sharon Dimuzio

Given that my eyes are ultimately focused on a 50K finish, I gave myself a moment to ponder whether I could have gone any further today. Certainly the idea of another go-round of the course didn't hold a lot of appeal at the moment - 25K felt just right. I was tired, that was for certain. However, I did not fuel as though I were running a 50K. I took two gels the entire race - one per hour.  That is considerably less than what I would have consumed had I intended for 50K, so I would surmise that much of my fatigue was in part due to inadequate fueling.  And, of course, I haven't run farther than 16 miles in months, so my legs weren't completely conditioned for longer distance. All and all, I thought the race was a success. In spite of some interesting and unexpected challenges that were thrown my way, I pushed through and still managed to enjoy my time on the course. I learned that I still do have a lot to learn when it comes to trail race etiquette and technical maneuvering.  I do know that I am very hooked on trail running for the connection with nature, people, and myself. I look forward to many more off-road adventures!

Oh, and remember the nice, speedy guy Shaun, who passed me early in the race? He managed to catch the guy in front of him and won the race in a course record of 3:51. YES! I love it when nice guys finish first. Way to go Shaun!