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Since moving to Bend I’d been hearing about this grassroots style trail race in Sisters. The Peterson Ridge Rumble is known for its inclusion of dogs, the fun and low-key environment, and --oh yeah, for being FAST. The past few years timing with road marathons lined up just perfectly that it ruled out the Rumble in my schedule. But with this year being as much of an anomaly as it has been, it was about time I used some of that road speed from the winter to try my hand at the 20 miler.
Race morning began as most do; woke up in the woods with Kristen and Emma, had some light breakfast (two pieces of toast, an avocado, four eggs), then ventured on down to Sisters Middle School to get the lay of the land. We watched some friends start the 40 miler (more like 35ish miles this year) and moseyed about, trying to stay warm and loose. Some pump-up tunes took me through my pre race routine which per usual ran a little long and I had to jog over to the start across the street.
“Alright runners. 40--no, 30 seconds to go for the 8:30 wave!” the announcer calls out. A wave start concept allowed the event to keep crowd sizes down, sending a handful of runners every 15 minutes. That trail race energy and start are so funny. There’s obvious nerves from everyone but the level of outward intensity is dialed way back compared to the road scene. More smiles, more shared happiness, a generally pleasant demeanor. It’s everything it should be from a local event. “GO!”
With smiles (hidden under face covering) and a few beeps of watches, we’re off into the chilly morning! Thomas and I chat briefly in the first mile. We see each other nearly every day at work but we’re both so happy to share trails for the first time in what seems like years. It allowed me to focus on something other than my specific race plan.
The perfect scenario in my mind was to run the first 5k on the dirt road at ~6:00/mile pace, not overexerting myself before the climbing starts, then settle in once it does and let the next 5k roll by. Around mile 7 I’d put in an unsustainable surge for about 15-20 minutes to create separation for the downhill. The effort would pull back a little on the winding descent to save gas for the final climb over Eagle Rock and for the drag race of a 5k on the road to the finish. The thought was with the amount of road running and speed work I’ve put in over the last 6 months, if it came down to a head-to-head on the flat, I should have the gas tank to outrun just about anybody in the field if they could hang with me to that point. And if all of this came together absolutely perfectly, maybe--just maybe, would I have a chance to take a shot at the epic course record.
A mile in, just before we hopped out onto the Brooks-Scanlon dirt road (aka 4606), another tall, long strided guy came up next to me and I heard Thomas’ footsteps grow quieter behind us. We weaved around potholes and had a brief exchange about our familiarities with the course. It probably sounded like we were sizing each other up, but I just wanted to know who the guy was! If we’re sharing some miles we may as well really enjoy them. I heard his breathing labor as I pulled the pace along a touch faster and it gave me more confidence going into the first climb. In a quick audible I decided to run the first climb harder than planned (famous last words) to send a little message. We ducked onto the singletrack and I galloped up and over Eagle Rock, trying to get out of sight as quickly as possible. For the next handful of miles I ran with the corner of my eye checking back on long stretches to see if I caught any glimpse of him. Once I felt comfortable with the gap, my heart rate readjusted and I steadied my stride.
The concern coming into Peterson Ridge was if my legs would be up to the climbing. While not anywhere near mountainous, it’s more technically challenging with a few punchy rollers both up and down. Nearing the top of the climb at mile 8, I noticed that the hip I’ve been having a few twinges in was starting to tighten and tweak my quad. Not that there’s ever a good time for a quad/hip to start giving out, but near the top of a long downhill is not a good one. It put a little fear into my eyes knowing that the gap I’d developed would likely be chipped away at unless something changed, especially if 2nd place was getting time updates at aid stations and could see the gap closing. That seemed like a good time to take my first gel and a couple sips of water.
The next few minutes were full of reassessing for a better downhill. How is the race panning out compared to the original plan? It’s really not. Sure I’m in the lead for the moment but hadn’t planned on it being as tight as what feels like less than a 60 second gap with a worsening hip situation. The hard left turn at the top prompted a change of mindset. The song that had been in my head for most of the uphill wasn’t cutting it anymore so new lyrics started to circle. This distraction allowed the body to take over and my legs to just spin without burden of the weight of my thoughts. For a couple miles it seemed like things were really starting to come back around.
Admittedly it was a bit discouraging that I wasn’t as fast on the downhill as I had been dreaming of. The couple rollers broke my stride up enough so that the inefficiencies weren’t too detrimental. With only a couple turns and hills to go I really started peeking over my shoulder, almost feeling the glaring eyes of second place creeping up. At the top of the second to last hill I peered down the couple switchbacks and went through an instantaneous emotional rollercoaster upon seeing the second runner only a couple switchbacks down. I estimated it was about 30 seconds worth of distance and it scared the life out of me.
Sometimes I worry that I give up on myself too easily. Deep into a workout that’s not going perfectly I may bail out, running a little tight on time I’ll skip the run instead of modifying it, etc. The frantic emotion that followed seeing that I’d been nearly caught largely was disappointment that I let this happen. Even though I was still currently in the lead I was thinking as if the race was over and I’d lost. It’s painful and unfortunate but it’s just the first place my mind goes. The following thought was to remind myself that there’s still a handful of miles (approx. 4) to run. Tons of real estate on my kind of terrain to drop the hammer. A surge up and over the final climb could solidify it. So that’s what I tried to do.
Eagle Rock is a rough climb from the back side. It’s not long but it’s technical and as steep as anything else on that 20 mile course. Dancing down the back side and catching a glimpse of dirt road allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. But 3 miles is a long way to run on a straight, flat dirt road. Fortunately all those Tumalo Reservoir training miles prepared my mind for this feeling.
There were a couple glances over the shoulder to see if there was anyone at all within striking distance. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Thomas was making a late charge from the downhill, using his top-end speed to hunt me down. Each mile of the dirt road managed to be a few seconds faster than the previous. I closed with intention and savored the moment turning into the parking lot leading to the track. When I get race-win type of excitement I shout really loudly. A hoot, holler, “YES” at the top of my lungs... anything. I hear Kristen holler back before I even round the corner. It’s indescribable to have such unwavering support through this crazy life and to be able to share the excitement of the celebration with her.
On my way by we slapped a big high-five, then I pulled up my homemade rabbit PR neck buff and headed onto the track for my literal victory lap. Chase and Nikki from Treeline Journal were on the infield, cameras at the ready. I thought briefly about the preview article (HERE) they’d written a few days prior calling me out as one of the favorites for the race. Especially about the nerves and excitement that came along with it. But also how the article sparked a sense of importance and reminded me that I DO belong in Bend’s competitive racing scene. I am genuinely intimidated to race against athletes like my good friend Thomas. It was a blast to race Alastair today, who put up a strong result forcing me to keep my foot on the gas, who ultimately finished second.
But despite a couple plot twists, today was my day.
All media via Treeline Journal
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