A lot like flying: chasing Colorado Runner points at the Greenland Trail 8-miler

Who’d have thought that a set of 100-metre repeats would be perfect preparation for a hilly 8-mile trail race?

But that’s the way it turned out. For the first time since cross-country days in England, I found myself flying past people on the downhill stretches of the Greenland Trail race – and there were a lot of them.

This fourth event in the Colorado Runner Racing Series trended uphill for five miles in a series of “steps”, so you’d be grinding uphill for a few minutes, then plunge downhill for a bit, and so on – until the last three miles or so, when having reached the 7,400-foot high point it was practically all downhill all the way to the finish line at the trailhead.

This was the first race in a long time where I found myself catching people downhill AND uphill; I had a good day. 11th overall, second to John Victoria in the 50-59 age group and first in my 55-59 series group for a maximum 100 points: 8 miles in 56:59 for a 7:08 average pace.

My race plan going in was to take it easy and avoid getting beaten up on the downhills. I had no plans to descend like a maniac, but that’s where the recent speedwork came in handy. My downhill mentor Dwight Cornwell has tried to teach me how to “let go” on descents and use the free speed, but normally I hold back, scared of the impact stress and instead ripping my legs with the braking effort.

Dwight is not only lightly-built, but has phenomenal leg-speed; we clocked him at a cadence of 108 on one easy demo run he did at the track once. Here at Greenland the going was so soft that I wasn’t scared to just let myself fall – and those 100s the day before the race, and the other short repeats Ric has had me doing, have increased my own cadence, so my legs were ready and able to spin. It is SO exhilarating to drop down a hill at speed!

Things started out a lot slower and more tentative. I barely made it out of the bathroom in time for the start. In fact I was still adjusting my bits as the 500-strong field rolled off. I mean setting my Garmin and tying on my car key...what did you think I was talking about??

As a result I got stalled in heavy traffic; the Greenland Trail event is three races in one: a 8-miler, a crazy 25-kilometer, and an insane 50-kilometer, all on the same course and all starting together. So while I was caught in a pack of runners adjusting themselves to 9-minute per mile pace or slower, the leaders were vanishing over the horizon. Pretty soon my speedy road and track persona began to feel humbled and I settled to the fact that 8:30-9-minute pace was actually going to be my limit, too. Maybe because we were going slightly uphill direct from the start, or maybe because the trail was so soft…

…but then runners who had started too fast began to drift back towards me, bringing hope with them and passing me the realization that if I just kept plodding I would work my way up. I focused on “executing perfect steps" (a Bobby McGee mantra), staying relaxed and tuning in to my breathing and my cadence in search of the altered state of rhythm and focus.

As it happened, I began to realise that I was having FUN. A whole bunch of it. The weather was brilliant, the course was superb, and it made me feel like I was doing a cross-country race in England in my prime. So much so, that I feel actually invigorated by the whole experience. A day later and I am not even sore. Maybe part of this was the great organization and the laid-back sporty-ness of the other runners. I lost count of the number of people who panted out “Good job!” or its equivalent when I went past them on a hill.

The feel-good bit was slightly tempered by remembering that some of the runners I was leaving in the soft loam (and odd patch of snow) were racing two or three times my distance. In fact the leaders in the two-lap 25-kilometre ran the first lap colossally faster than me. And OK, I got eleventh overall, but I was TEN minutes behind winner Steve Folkerts – he covered the 8 miles in 5:50 pace in 46:39 and was FIVE minutes clear of second-placed Marcus Corbett. These 30-somethings were chased home by 51-year-old John Victoria (53:12), a storming performance.

Later that evening, a bunch of us went out to see a race horse movie in Denver – a couple of the women in Ric’s group train former race horses and we’re all interested in the parallels between the training and preparation of these animals and we human, ahem, thoroughbreds. The plan was to then go and get ice cream (I always do that as a reward after racing), but the darn shop was closed. While we were hanging around on the sidewalk wondering what to do, Ric disappeared into the next-door liquor store and reappeared with a bottle of champagne and plastic glasses -- we stood around and toasted my age-group and points "victory"! Very sweet. We didn't get back to Boulder until 11pm by which time my stomach was gnawing its way through my backbone and we had to eat….

I DID refuel immediately after the race and get a couple of hours sleep before going out, but this represents far from the accepted ideal of post-race recovery tactics.... but I feel great!!! So I may have to revise things in the future and be a bit more relaxed about it all.

Full results and pictures are not available yet, but will be, here on the Greenland Trail site and here at Colorado Runner. Unofficially, Steve Folkert’s win moves him to second overall in the Colorado Runner series “open” category. John Victoria’s age-group win was not enough to take the lead in the 50-54 category, and that one looks like it could develop into a real tussle: Robert Kessler, the 50-54 “yellow jersey” finished Greenland in 13th place overall, grabbing enough points to keep the lead. I THINK Kari Cornwell moves up into 2md overall in the women’s masters behind Tanya Poel, while her husband Dwight got maximum points to consolidate his lead at the top of the male 60-64 table. And yes, I’m managing to hang on as yellow jersey in the men’s 55-59 division.

* An extra word on the organization by Derek Griffiths of Colorado Runner. This is the only race I’ve ever run in where updated pictures of the course were available online the night before the race. A year ago there was heavy snow, and it was extraordinarily useful to be able to see whether we would be facing snow, mud or good going. (I still took three pairs of shoes so I would have a match whatever the conditions, but that’s just me. It the event, I opted for my new Brookes T5s and they didn’t let me down even on the slippery bits.) We were also spoiled by the provision of parking marshals; a nice touch that removed that normal pre-race stress of struggling to find a parking slot that won’t involve a leg-numbing panicking speed walk to the numbers and pins.