Today was the 2011 Potomac Heritage 50k and another notch was added to the WUS belt of wins. Warm sunny weather and colorful trees provided pleasant conditions for all of the runners. Keith Knipling won handily in an unofficial time of 4:49. Keith stayed on course and opted not to include any race “challenges” into his run. 4th place finisher and WUS up-and-comer JLD ran a respectable time, considering he did in fact run off course. Fortunately JLD opted to include challenges into his run which may or may not have helped him secure a fourth place finish, though we’re not entirely sure because at this point we don’t know his actual finish time.
Here is Doug interviewing Keith at the finish line, probing deeply with questions.
Well folks… the move is just about here. Next Saturday Gaby and I load up a big ol’ truck and head southwest for the greener, rolling environs of Charlottesville, Virginia. It’s been a good run living in D.C. 10+ years of city livin’ to be exact. Can’t say I won’t miss my running buds up this way because I definitely will. Gaby and I look forward to seeing many of you at Potomac Heritage on Sunday. I also hope to make it to a final WUS run (as a D.C. resident) on Tuesday. And in the future I look forward to seeing everyone at race events, during visits to Charlottesville- ie C-ville, ie ‘the Hook’- and back up this way because we will be visiting. Take that to the bank, my friends.
In somewhat related news, many of you might be acquainted with a similar running troop in Charlottesville. The frisky folks of the Charlottesville Area Trail Runnners, or CAT. Today I was ‘accepted’ into the CAT email listserv thingy. More friends await it seems. In the meantime and forever still I remain a WUS at heart.
WUS represent! All 3 wussies (Aaron Schwartzbard, Martha Nelson, Selena Smart) make the post-race headline.
Aaron is TOO cute!
A race sponsored by SHEETZ! How could a wussie pass up?? They had Sheetz shirts, Sheetz bags, they even had a little Sheetz truck at the finish line serving free Sheetz smoothies, coffees, hot chocolate, and other goodies. Where the heck was Andrish?? Honestly, Seanie would have LOVED this course and this race. The terrain was rocky and full of deep stream crossings (the race director said he stopped counting them after 30 or so). It’s not trivial to negotiate those rocks in completely numb feet (continually re-numbed by the icy waters), and Selena and I both have black toenails to show for — not so much fun to kick rocks with numb toes. (For those who don’t know, Selena Smart is my former high school track & XC coach who is now a mother of 3 crazy boys in Van Ness but is still running and technically a wussie, having done a WUS with Keith, Dave Rees, and myself back one summer eve. Back in the day I thought Selena was a tyrant bent on destroying teenage runnergirls)
This race was all Selena’s idea. She emailed me that she was doing this race about a month or so ago. I was torn because it was scheduled for the same day as Marine Corps Marathon and I had planned to be happy, cheery race support for Aaron and spend the day with his parents, who live 1/2 a block from the MCM course in Arlington. But given that Selena and I weren’t running MountainBack together (Selena had to back out when the race was moved this year from Sat to Sun) and I wasn’t running any other races this fall, I decided to join in.
Selena smashes the Master's CR with her fancy new camelback
But the day before the race the course got hit with 6-8″ of snow and had to be canceled because the school buses couldn’t navigate the mountain roads in the snow (FOTM is a point-to-point). So it was delayed one week and I got to watch AarBear run his Marine Corps Marathon AND make him come run FOTM with Selena and myself. Double score!
The plan was to drive Selena’s 3 boys and dog to her parents’ farm outside Winchester, dispose of them, have some homecooked dinner, and then have a peaceful pre-race night sleep at America’s Best Value Inn in Hancock, MD. So we all piled into Selena’s minivan: Selena, Aaron, 3 hyper boys, a Belgian Malinois with bad breath, and myself.
The Smart family homestead was a dream home, situated ~20 southeast of Winchester near the Shenandoah River and Appalachian Trail, 80 acres of rolling farmland with cattle, horses, and three buildings constructed by Mr. Smart himself: the main house, the garage (with apartment above), and a barn that was so sparkling I’m convinced Andrish would try to secure himself a stall of his own if he could. I, of course, was obsessed with the horses. Aaron and I have an open invitation to return some day to stay in the apartment over the garage and ride horses and hang out. We will be taking the Smarts up on that offer.
We had a big meal of chicken & dumplings (we found some mac ‘n’ cheese in the cupboard for Aaron) and made our way to America’s Best Value Inn, which was not America’s Best Quality Inn. We had a choice: we could get woken up by the heater when it kicked into gear every 20 minutes or so. Or we could turn the heater off and freeze. We opted for the latter, piling all the blankets on from the second bed (apparently Selena did the same). After a sporadic sleep the kicker was when our 5am wakeup call came at 4am because they neglected to account for the end of Daylight’s Savings time. For breakfast we introduced Selena to the glory of Sheetz, providing edible foods and beverages in a town that otherwise had…..nothing.
I just ran 32 miles, shitting constantly for the last 14, and you want me to f'in smile??
The race was great fun, a beautiful course, surprisingly technical, a good mix of terrains, friendly and low-key. Nothing beats a crisp fall day with blue sky and sun. I had a lot of concerns coming into the race: (1) my hamstring was still griping about that poor decision to stand on the sidelines at Marine Corps, freeze to the bone, and then jump in with Aaron at 6-minute pace for a few miles (hence my wearing the butt-ugly spandex); (2) I had taken a bad spill at WUS that week and had badly bruised up my right knee and hip and it still was bothering me; (3) and of course my plantar fasciitis was still acting up that had plagued me since Cascade Crest. Fortunately, none of concerns 1-3 was much of a problem on race day. Instead, my gastrointestinal system flared up.
I’m not going to go into detail on my gastrointestinal adventures. As I’ve said many a time before, this is an area I’m going to have to figure out before I can become an ultra runner. I can get away with it for the shorter races you don’t have to eat during but 5+ hours does me in. But it says a heckuva lot about this race how much I enjoyed it despite the stomach ails. It was a really fun course, never a dull moment. Aaron almost fell off a cliff into the creek; the guy running behind me fell every 10 minutes or so; Selena was not so into the technicality of the trail; I smashed my foot up and my leg looks like an army of rabid cats got to it. Good times!
I can’t resist including this photo. I’m not sure what I’m doing at this moment, but I’ve discovered that Aaron is the most photogenic runner and I am the least:
maybe if I look away that awful gravel road ahead will disappear
Shadowy sidewalks, marked under alien street lamps and deciduous tree color delivered WUS to the track. The odd sensation of concrete, not dirt, under feet foretold of things different. It was yet 7:15pm, though as dark outside as the deepest cave. The temperature, crispy. Here again, on routine October visitation, our friendly acquaintance, fall, gracing our presence for the evening’s affair. The Beer Mile Classic: event number four on the 2011 Don’t-Hurt-Yourself tour WUS series of races.
Crimson was on full display as runners toed the line, each cupping their beverage of choice. A piercing, unmistakably echoy sound- “sscchhhkkkhhheeerrraaahhh…”- signaled the race start. Instantly, slurps and burps sequenced in harmonic unison. Coverboy and Bobby-Pin sprang from the gate. J-Lo gave chase. Others seemed to more enjoy their beverage, savoring the sweet taste of Milwaukee. Gulping sounds eventually quieted, empties filled the voiding wake of runners dust. For the first time in a really long time, Aaron was all by himself. Standing lonesome on the track; clipboard in hand; stop watch dictating seconds passed. The field had spread out quickly.
Most of the WUS field ran their own race. A wise decision this would prove to be as nary chunks were blown over the track. Coverboy and Bobby-Pin on the other hand, immersed in a fiery duel, set about re-writing WUS race coda on a night sea of change. An epic race developed through the darkness.
Here are a few snippets recorded in the immediate post race furry:
“Fuck, that hurt! Owwww…” said Neal, as he crashed to the dewy grass seconds after winning his first Beer Mile Classic. “Halfway through the second loop I almost shit my pants.”
Bobby-Pin, with hand still in cupped position, looked stunned. The tireless efforts over prior months to pump his chest so that it would cross the tape first, before Coverboy’s, so that he might win the race, not Coveryboy, had forced a crushing reality check. In the final race seconds, culminating in a come-from-behind Coverboy-kick, Bobby-Pin was un-seated as WUS Beer Mile Classic champion. “Dude, my buzz is kicking in,” Bobby-Pin reportedly quibbed.
Coverboy, barely able to crawl from the grass, still in possible turtle-ass-mental-self-examination-mode, began to smile as the reality of a win washed over. Martha, Aaron, and soon J-Lo- 2nd place loser- came to the aid of Coverboy, and his ass, and to congratulate a job well done.
“Best Beer Mile finish ever,” cheered Martha.
“Any beer left over?” replied Coverboy.
WUS is environmentally concious.
A WUS buzzed.
FINAL RACE RESULTS (note: track is 500 meters!):
Neal – 7:10
Bobby – 7:11
JLD – 9:14
Ryon – 9:32
Brian – 9:36
Anna – 11:09
Jeff – 11:14
Sean – 11:43
Doug – 17:54
Mackenzie – Gun time: 39:34, Chip time: 23:17
Martha (2 beer category): PONIES
Post race fellowship at Cactus Cantina. (Think they would sponsor us, by the way??)
