Athena's War - A Trail Adventure
Athena's War, June 30, 2018, organized by GroundHog Events, offered a variety of distance options-- 5k, 10k, 13.1 mile, and 6 hour ultra. There were also ruck divisions. I choose the 6 hour ultra. Because... why not?
This is the second in the Mount Olympus series that I've run. I missed all the others due to various family events... but I'm really looking forward to the final race in the series: Mount Olympus Championship race in September.
Athena's War was held at Trout Creek Park in Thonotosassa, Florida (just outside of Tampa). The course was well-marked and well-designed. There was a 10k(ish) loop and a 5k(ish) loop. (*Note: most trail races are marked in -ish distances.) The ultra distance runners did 10k loops.
The 10k course began on a service road on the levee. Flat and fast. Super great if you're looking to PR. Not so great with temps and humidity in the 90s. I began faster than I should, but running with only my Timex to tell me when to eat, I wasn't really sure of pacing. My goal was to win the race, but at my own pace. And that gets tricky in the heat because the pace that feels great in hour 1 can bury you by hour 2.
After about a mile on the service road, we headed into the woods. More specifically, into a creek, which had us wading through nearly waist-deep, very refreshing water. We ran a few miles on trails and then connected with the 5k route, back on top of the levee. Again... flat, fast service road for maybe another mile (probably shorter, but it felt like a mile). Then we headed back into the woods.
I didn't feel like I was going too fast. My mantra became (this is embarrassing, but I blame all of the podcasts I've heard recently on how powerful the mind is) "Ice Box." (Yes, I thought only cold thoughts for the first lap and a half... ice chips, giant blocks of ice, walk-in coolers, Alaska, etc.) And I completely ignored the voice that said I should probably slow down. Especially when I realized the women I was running with were doing the 10k (one lap of my course) and the half marathon (2 laps).
I stuck to my race plan-- run 2 loops, fueling on UCan and water, before hitting my drop cooler. By the end of the second lap, I was in desperate need of that cooler. Which confirmed what I feared-- I had gone out too fast and was starting to overheat. I had run both my first 2 laps 5 minutes faster than I thought smart.
Back at my cooler, I just wanted to crawl inside. I loaded my hat with ice, threw down some sweet potato chips and a pickle, reapplied sunscreen, and stuffed some ice down the front and back of my shirt. And was off.
By that time, the sky was beginning to look threatening. I was praying for rain. Back on the service road, I felt the first twinge in my calf. I listened to that warning and began run/walking. For someone who likes to actually run when I run, this was very frustrating. (*Note: lots of people follow a run/walk plan and have great success. I've never been one of those people. I'm just too impatient.) It went like this: run, calf twinge, walk. Repeat. And by twinge, I mean, a tiny spasm in the muscle, that says, Hello! Remember me? The debilitating calf cramps that had you on the ground during the last 6-hour? I'm coming baaaaaaa-aaaack. (Hades Underworld Race Recap)
The forecast had called for thunderstorms, so the race director warned that there was a chance the 6-hour would become a 4-hour if lightning rolled in. I was hoping that wouldn't happen. By the time I reached the levee again, the rain had just begun, and I heard the first rumble of thunder off in the distance. A volunteer drove around and told us that if we didn't feel safe, we could come in and get credit for the another race. Or if we felt safe, we could finish the loop. At that point, I didn't feel the storm was close enough to be dangerous-- I could hear thunder, but didn't see lightning.
I ran/walked on... faster at that point, racing the storm instead of the clock. The drizzle became a downpour, which cooled things off considerably. The storm came closer, and I ran/walked as fast as my calfs would allow. It was definitely one of the most interesting races I've done. I finished my 3rd lap and my race unsure of my placement-- there were several runners under the shelter, snacking on protein doughnuts from ReBuilt Meals.
As it turns out, I was the first finisher. Overall.
My big takeaways:
Hard work pays off.
Have a plan and stick to it.
But sometimes it also pays to be a little reckless.
This is the second in the Mount Olympus series that I've run. I missed all the others due to various family events... but I'm really looking forward to the final race in the series: Mount Olympus Championship race in September.
Athena's War was held at Trout Creek Park in Thonotosassa, Florida (just outside of Tampa). The course was well-marked and well-designed. There was a 10k(ish) loop and a 5k(ish) loop. (*Note: most trail races are marked in -ish distances.) The ultra distance runners did 10k loops.
The 10k course began on a service road on the levee. Flat and fast. Super great if you're looking to PR. Not so great with temps and humidity in the 90s. I began faster than I should, but running with only my Timex to tell me when to eat, I wasn't really sure of pacing. My goal was to win the race, but at my own pace. And that gets tricky in the heat because the pace that feels great in hour 1 can bury you by hour 2.
After about a mile on the service road, we headed into the woods. More specifically, into a creek, which had us wading through nearly waist-deep, very refreshing water. We ran a few miles on trails and then connected with the 5k route, back on top of the levee. Again... flat, fast service road for maybe another mile (probably shorter, but it felt like a mile). Then we headed back into the woods.
I didn't feel like I was going too fast. My mantra became (this is embarrassing, but I blame all of the podcasts I've heard recently on how powerful the mind is) "Ice Box." (Yes, I thought only cold thoughts for the first lap and a half... ice chips, giant blocks of ice, walk-in coolers, Alaska, etc.) And I completely ignored the voice that said I should probably slow down. Especially when I realized the women I was running with were doing the 10k (one lap of my course) and the half marathon (2 laps).
I stuck to my race plan-- run 2 loops, fueling on UCan and water, before hitting my drop cooler. By the end of the second lap, I was in desperate need of that cooler. Which confirmed what I feared-- I had gone out too fast and was starting to overheat. I had run both my first 2 laps 5 minutes faster than I thought smart.
Back at my cooler, I just wanted to crawl inside. I loaded my hat with ice, threw down some sweet potato chips and a pickle, reapplied sunscreen, and stuffed some ice down the front and back of my shirt. And was off.
By that time, the sky was beginning to look threatening. I was praying for rain. Back on the service road, I felt the first twinge in my calf. I listened to that warning and began run/walking. For someone who likes to actually run when I run, this was very frustrating. (*Note: lots of people follow a run/walk plan and have great success. I've never been one of those people. I'm just too impatient.) It went like this: run, calf twinge, walk. Repeat. And by twinge, I mean, a tiny spasm in the muscle, that says, Hello! Remember me? The debilitating calf cramps that had you on the ground during the last 6-hour? I'm coming baaaaaaa-aaaack. (Hades Underworld Race Recap)
The forecast had called for thunderstorms, so the race director warned that there was a chance the 6-hour would become a 4-hour if lightning rolled in. I was hoping that wouldn't happen. By the time I reached the levee again, the rain had just begun, and I heard the first rumble of thunder off in the distance. A volunteer drove around and told us that if we didn't feel safe, we could come in and get credit for the another race. Or if we felt safe, we could finish the loop. At that point, I didn't feel the storm was close enough to be dangerous-- I could hear thunder, but didn't see lightning.
I ran/walked on... faster at that point, racing the storm instead of the clock. The drizzle became a downpour, which cooled things off considerably. The storm came closer, and I ran/walked as fast as my calfs would allow. It was definitely one of the most interesting races I've done. I finished my 3rd lap and my race unsure of my placement-- there were several runners under the shelter, snacking on protein doughnuts from ReBuilt Meals.
As it turns out, I was the first finisher. Overall.
My big takeaways:
Hard work pays off.
Have a plan and stick to it.
But sometimes it also pays to be a little reckless.
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| PC: GroundHog Events |
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