Prairie Fire 5k - Wichita, KS

We were in Wichita on the second weekend in October to see old friends and participate in the Prairie Fire 5k. A Sunday morning race, we arrived on Friday evening to spend some time in the city I called home for over twenty years. Our stomachs were growling as the sun went down and my natural instincts, long dormant, took control of the situation. I knew that a quick left onto Hillside and a couple of short blocks down on the left was the pot of gold at the end of our long 11.5-hour rainbow ride out of Tennessee.

Worth the Drive

After filling up on burgers and hot dogs, we did something I never remember doing while living here: visiting the Keeper of the Plains statue up close. I was caught off guard by the number of tourists we encountered flocking to this attraction! I never realized anyone except school children came here. Of course, according to the statisticians at the Wichita Visitors and Convention Bureau, my family and I were tourists, too, and our presence at the Keeper Plaza was yet another indication of the effectiveness of their savvy marketing and good business acumen. Great job, guys!

The Keeper of the Plains

Saturday morning we headed downtown to pick up our race packets. It was a beautiful day so we explored the area while I reminisced about dragging Douglas as a high schooler in the 80s and working as a bartender in what is now the Drury Plaza Hotel Broadview in the 90s. The downtown is clean with wide streets and sidewalks. Unfortunately, downtown also includes a good deal of vacant commercial space.

Site of Race Packet Pick Up

Wichita-Sedgwick County Historical Musuem

As seen on one of the many vacancies downtown

Saturday afternoon and evening was spent catching up with friends before our predawn wake-up call on Sunday. Though the morning was cool, it certainly could have been colder this time of year. With the high forecast to be near ninety, I was thankful for the early morning start. The half and full marathoners took off shortly after the scheduled 7:20 start time, and we started running about thirty minutes later.

Moments before the start of the 5k

The course immediately took us over the Arkansas River to McLean Boulevard, where we ran north to Douglas Avenue and back across the river. From Douglas we turned north and basically looped behind the Keeper statue before heading south on McLean and back to the start/finish line. The course was, of course, flat (duh, it's Kansas) and very fast. I felt like I was making pretty good time but refused to look at my watch. I guess I was afraid I might start slacking if I knew I was faster than my normal pace.

Though there were 609 finishers in the 5k, I ran alone for nearly all of the last mile. Flat courses can be good and bad. They're great because there are no hills obviously, but, by the same token, you can see far, far ahead. With hills, you can set small goals and fool yourself in the process. Example: If I just make it to the top of this hill, I will likely see the next [reference marker] is not far away. On a level course, you can see your reference point nearly a mile away, but it appears as if it's ten miles away. In this race the final turn was just beyond Lawrence-Dumont Stadium. From there, it was a chip shot to the finish line. I could see the light standards far off in the distance, and it looked like a twenty-minute ride on the bullet train to get there.

Lawrence-Dumont Stadium at last!

It seemed like the road was getting longer the more I ran, but I finally made it to the bridge taking us again across the river for a fast, slightly downhill finish. There was a good crowd of spectators around the finish corral cheering on participants as I hurried to close out the loop. I finished in 23:04, a 7:26/mile pace. This represents my best time ever in a 5k and was good enough on this day to capture 3rd place in the men's 45-49 division.

This was a fun course to run, a course almost tailor-made for folks new to running or returning after a long absence. The city hosts this event in both the spring and fall, so it's not too early to start planning your trip to Wichita now!

3rd Place in the men's 45-49 bracket, 5k

  

Read and Run 5k - Burns, TN

The last Saturday in August found us gathering in and around the old elementary school gymnasium in Burns for the first annual Read and Run 5k promoting literacy and fitness in Dickson County. A typically hot and humid summer day in Middle Tennessee, I was most thankful for the 7:00 p.m. start time.

With about an hour to kill before the race started, I kept busy by jogging, walking, and standing around shooting the breeze. We were adjacent to the youth football field so I took a short run down the length of the field to the opposite end zone and back. I wanted to sprint down the sideline, imagining I was running back a game-winning interception, but I knew that would not be beneficial in any way to my race performance.

As runners came together near the start line in the moments leading up to the beginning of the race, I observed that most participants were hanging back, allowing the more "serious" runners plenty of space to claim up near the front. Even with a modest turnout of about 65 competitors, I knew there was no way I would finish near the head of the pack. I didn't want to crowd the line, but because I felt like I had a chance of being competitive in my age group, I chose to start closer to the front than I customarily do.

We took off on time with quite a few folks hustling right out of the gate, as if they were trying to beat out a ground ball to shortstop. It's tempting to try to keep up at the onset, and I think indeed I was moving too fast, even though I was telling myself to run my pace and not worry with what everyone else was doing. Probably within the first two tenths of a mile, I passed by a runner who had already succumbed to walking. For the first half-mile or so, I would eclipse many more (and be left in the dust by a few others).

At maybe a half-mile in, my right shoelace came undone. This had never happened to me in a race before. Not only had I neglected to retie them before the race, but I had also fell out of the habit of double-tying after purchasing new shoes a while back. It was way too early in the race to have to stop for this nonsense. I figured I would lose several positions by stopping to tie my shoe and might not be able to get them back. I would have to stop at some point, but for now I would push on a little further, at least until the herd thinned around me.

I finished the first mile in 7:39, which is too fast for me, but because I wasn't far behind a runner who I knew to be good, I was still hesitant to stop and address my shoelace for fear of ruining my performance. The thought of getting tripped up by my wayward shoelace never left my mind, however, and I could visualize me taking a hard dive on the pavement, an event in which a ruined performance could be the least of my worries.

By the time mile number two was preparing to hand off to mile number three, a couple of other runners were petering out. With my shoelace flopping about and my side cramping (that's exercise related transient abdominal pain, or ETAP, for those keeping score at home), I moved ahead a couple of positions. The introduction of side stitches added another layer of disbelief and frustration to the competition for me. I have been running three times per week since April, and this was the first occurrence I'd had. All I could think is that maybe I drank a bit too much water too close to race time in a desperate attempt to compensate for what I feared may have been insufficient consumption throughout the day.

Now within earshot of the commotion surrounding the finish line, I refused to look at my watch. The last time I peeked at it was at the completion of mile one, and I was afraid of how much my pace might have slowed since then. Turning the final corner with shoelace untied, I was thrilled to observe that I would come in under the 25-minute mark. Don't trip now, I thought. Dashing across the line at 24:51, a new personal best, I would be pleased to learn, too, how this equaled an 8:00/mile pace, a goal of mine for nearly a year now.

The biggest surprise was during the awards ceremony upon hearing my name called for first place in the men's 40-49 year-old category. Granted it was a small field, but it always feels good taking first place, particularly after enduring months of training designed specifically to perform at your highest level in a specific type of event. That's what I want to believe anyway, that all those endless hours of sweaty dedication to my thoughtful training regimen paid off in spades. But, so as not to leave anything to chance, I plan on running with one shoe untied from here on out.

         

Palisades/Will Rogers 5k

We were in the Los Angeles area on July 4th to visit family and participate in a local 5k benefiting the Pacific Palisades Optimist Club, a volunteer organization supporting various youth charities and activities.

My anticipation for this event had been mounting from the day we booked our flights to LAX in early April. For the next three months, I decided, my training would be focused solely on this run and achieving a degree of fitness which would allow me to perform at my very best level. Amazingly, life cooperated nicely during those 90 days so that I was able to follow through on my training program pretty well as designed. By the time training was over, I actually felt like a runner.

The day before the race we walked with my aunt to the local sporting goods retailer to collect our bibs and then around the community to sort of get the lay of the land and a feel for the course itself. As workers were erecting the start and finish structures, my aunt was showing us how deep the crowd would be gathered at the starting line in the morning. It became clear to me this would be the largest race in which I had ever participated.

Setting up the day before the race

 

The morning of the race was cool and overcast. Thank goodness! We made our way through the field of entrants, and I settled in the 7-8 minute per mile grouping. Unfortunately, my aunt had to sit this year's race out, and the rest of my family felt more comfortable starting a little deeper in the pack. With a crowd this size, it was certainly wise not attempting to run in pairs or as a group. After a sterling rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner, the starting gun sounded and the mass of people slowly began moving forward.

 

Participants gather before the race

 

The beginning of the race was a cluster, of course. Slower runners, including parents pushing strollers and some very young children who had no business up front, were causing many folks to jump the curbs and run on the sidewalks. The first half-mile or so was spent running more or less a zigzag pattern, simply trying to find space enough in which to settle into a good pace. Fortunately, this part was all downhill. Everything frustrating about running is easier to deal with when going downhill.

 

A walker's perspective

 

Somewhere around 1.2 miles, the Pacific Ocean came into view and the course transitioned from downhill to uphill. For the next 1.5 miles or so, we would climb 120 feet. This was it. This is what I had been training for months to conquer. If I could get to the top of this hill in good shape, the rest of the course would be easy peasy. As homeowners waved from their front lawns, shouting words of encouragement to all of the runners, I felt like pulling up a chair and doing the same. Instead, I kept plugging away until I somehow made it to the top. Though I wouldn't necessarily classify my condition as "good" at this point and the remainder of the course certainly wasn't easy peasy for me, I knew I had enough in the tank to see it through and finish with a respectable time.

 

The bulk of the climb was over by mile 2

 

On the ascension I eclipsed several people, many of whom had slowed to a walk. Heading down the homestretch, I gave back a few of those gains to smarter, better conditioned runners. Running harder downhill to the finish line which was now within sight, I observed a boy in front of me determined not to let me pass. As he increased his pace to a sprint, so did I, and we crossed the finish line neck and neck, though I do believe his chip time was faster than mine.

 

I finished with a pace of 8:05 per mile, 10th out of 74 participants in my division. Though I had entertained notions of breaking the 8-minute mile, I felt satisfied with my time, particularly given the inevitable slow start due to the sheer number of participants in this popular event. My family and I rendezvoused beyond the finish line at the Palisades Park and Recreation Center to review our times and collect our shirts. The opinion among us was unanimous: the Palisades 5k was everything we hoped it to be - a great way to celebrate the 4th and a perfect beginning to our week in California.

 

Rested and ready for the 4th of July parade to begin

     



    

Dartin' Downtown 5k

The first rainy day in three weeks found us in Paris, TN, for the Dartin' Downtown 5k. Runners assembled inside the nice, warm and dry First United Methodist gym for pre-race instruction before getting shooed outdoors to the starting line just prior to 8:00 a.m. Standing in the rain, we were told if we found ourselves running on a level stretch of road then we must be off course. At that point, I really began questioning every decision I had made over the course of my life which led me to this particular intersection of place and time.

A police cruiser and a young lady on a bicycle guided us through the commons of downtown Paris and downhill into a residential setting. Of course it wasn't long before I lost sight of both the police car and the bicyclist. But there were only a few runners up front and out of sight and just a few others ahead of me still within sight. The hills began to take their toll, as a couple of younger runners were forced to drop back to a walking pace. My clothes, saturated from the rain, introduced much unwelcomed additional weight, but my hat was shielding my face like a dream. Thankfully, and perhaps because of the rain, traffic was light and the handful of drivers who were on the road were most courteous.

I crossed the finish line with a time of 25:19, good enough for 6th overall and 1st in the men's 40-49 age bracket. My daughter came in 20th overall and 2nd in the 15-19 women's category. The church graciously welcomed us back into their nice, warm and dry gym with towels and snacks prior to the awards presentation. I must say I was never so grateful for a race day t-shirt in which to change as I was this morning. Access to indoor restrooms was a pleasant surprise, too! And to cap off what was truly a great event, my daughter was lucky enough to win a door prize - a beautiful handmade quilt, compliments of the Peacemakers Quilt Club of the First United Methodist Church.

 Handmade by the Peacemakers Quilt Club, Paris TN

A must-see when you're in Paris

A modern day must: selfie in front of attraction/destination

Henry County Courthouse

Confederate Soldier Memorial on the Square

We'll always have Paris







Race on the Trace, 5-miler

Pin Oak Lodge, left, played host to race participants

 

Flying solo for Valentine's Day, I said bye to the wife and kids and buzzed down to Natchez Trace State Park for my fifth and final stop on the 2014-15 Tennessee State Parks Running Tour. The weather was just right for running, with a temperature of nearly fifty degrees under partly sunny skies. I had done absolutely no running in two weeks and was preparing myself mentally for the pain I fully expected would greet me somewhere in mile three.

 

Ordinarily, I study the online course descriptions beforehand for all state park runs. And this race was no exception, so I thought. The first two miles, an easy out-and-back, were just as I had anticipated. The terrain was mostly level, and, as I crossed the start line now in the opposite direction, I was feeling good about my run. Just a few minutes later and right on schedule, however, a nagging pain developed on the outside of my left knee. I focused on my breathing instead, hoping the pain wouldn't worsen.

 

Around this same time, I managed to catch up with a couple of guys running nearly neck and neck. We were three-wide on the left-hand side of the road, as I continued looking on the horizon for the race leaders, who I thought should be barreling back towards us any minute now. I was also looking for the three-mile mark which, I thought about later, was probably on the opposite side of the road. With no sign of the leaders or the mile marker, I began to doubt my ability to finish the race running. Then there was the moment of clarity when I looked at my watch, realizing I had to be in the fourth mile. Not until this point did I understand we were running a loop, not another out-and-back, and quickly gave myself an F for preparation.

 

There was a certain amount of relief on my part when I figured this out, but I was tiring fast. The long, gradually sloping hills on the second half of the course were taking a toll on me. I had finally pulled away from the two fellas I'd caught, and I didn't want to relinquish my hard-earned gains. But the hills, it seemed, just kept coming, and, as I ascended yet another, I slowed to a brisk walk for perhaps a minute. I could hear feet approaching from behind as I eyed mile marker number four and knew I'd better pick up the pace if I wanted to hold my position.

 

Running again, I struggled with the remaining uphill sections but was able to keep it going to the finish line in front of Pin Oak Lodge. My official time of 42:51 was good enough to place dead last in the 40-49 year-old men's bracket, eleventh out of eleven finishers. This is the sentence where I would normally put a positive spin on my performance, but when you're eleven out of eleven, what's the point? Instead, I took a baseball bat to the water cooler in the tunnel before heading to the showers and taking a cab back to the hotel.

 

One of the two individuals I'd passed somewhere along the road where mile three blurred into mile four congratulated me afterward inside the lodge. Truthfully, I could only assume this was who was shaking my hand because I really couldn't have picked this runner out of a lineup, as I was fighting to simply remain upright at that stage of the race. And if he was who I thought he was, this same individual also offered up words of encouragement to a young girl we passed as he and I ran side by side for the better part of a mile. I was impressed. Short of stopping, I knew there was no way I could possibly utter anything other than a grunt or a groan.

 

This is just one example of the typically well-mannered behavior I've experienced at the state park runs. Far and away, the best aspect of these events are the people. As much as I dislike running, the atmosphere at these events is always upbeat and motivating. The season is over for me now, but I have a feeling I'll be back in the fall to do it all over again. And maybe next year at Natchez Trace I'll take it up a notch and grab that tenth position.

 

Fishing may have been a better alternative to my finishing 11 of 11

               

5-Mile Johnsonville Charge

Participants gather post-race to enjoy the famous beef stew

 

Yesterday I was in New Johnsonville on a typically chilly January day for my fourth stop on this year's state parks running tour. Because I had done no running since the middle of December, I had no performance-related expectations for this event. Running the length of the course without walking would be enough to make me happy, I told myself.

 

The perfect course for someone like me who hadn't run recently, it is a basically flat out-and-back five-miler on paved, gravel, and compacted dirt terrain. Musket fire from a man dressed as a Civil War-era soldier set the clock in motion, and 134 or more of us commenced to beat a path to the turnaround point 2.5 miles away.

 

I felt good early on, but what runner doesn't? Entering the second mile I focused on breathing technique more than anything else, as I hoped to ward off, as much as I possibly could, the development of a side stitch. Along with the increasing concern for calf pain as the race progressed, I believed the onset of one or both of these hindrances during the race was quite likely, the presence of either having the full potential to quickly transform me from runner to walker.

 

I turned down the water, as I always do, at the turnaround point. The fellow ahead of me stopped for a drink, and I never saw him again. I'm slow enough to begin with and don't need anything slowing me down further, so I shun the refreshments. Early into the return trip, I was still feeling pretty good. Now don't get me wrong, I was indeed tired and secretly wanted to quit running, but I was pain-free and passing about as many people as were eclipsing me.

 

Entering the last mile-and-a-half or so, the much-anticipated calf pain finally came calling. But the flat course of Johnsonville was my saving grace, reducing the pain to mere nuisance-grade. The side stitches never did materialize, and, as I crossed the finish line 42:27 after the opening musket blast, I felt both contentment and regret. Yes, I was satisfied with my performance, considering I hadn't actually been running in the weeks leading up to the race, but I also regretted having not properly trained, wondering what my time could have been had I only been more disciplined.

 

As runners continued to trickle across the finish line, a gathering crowd was enjoying the delicious beef stew and chili prepared by the Friends of Johnsonville State Historic Park. Much to my delight, a park ranger had gotten a fire going, and I eagerly joined those already huddled around the fire after a quick sampling of the Friends' stew. I waited until the presentation of awards was complete before determining my calf and now knee pain was too great to take a post-race hike along some of the park's wooded trails. Instead, I headed to my vehicle and thus concluded another fantastic outing in one of Tennessee's great state parks.                      

Tims Ford Deer Trail 6-Mile Run

We rolled into Winchester on Saturday to compete in our third race of the 2014-2015 Tennessee State Parks Running Tour. The rain which had pushed through during the overnight and morning hours was gone, and we were left with cool and cloudy conditions for the event. We checked in at the lodge upon our arrival to grab our bibs and use the facilities. The park's maintenance men had been beckoned because there were pools of water on the restroom floors, not enough heat in the lodge, and too much heat in the restrooms. As a fellow maintenance guy, I felt their pain. I was glad to be lacing up my running shoes instead of buckling my tool belt.

The crowd gathers in the moments leading up to the start

 

The race began with us heading down and to the right. I started on the left side of the road, but worked my way over to the right-hand side before turning right on a road which took us around and behind the lodge. Working my way past other runners, the road soon gave way to a paved pedestrian trail. I was a little slower here than I wanted to be, but I couldn't find a good opportunity to eclipse the runner in front of me. Fortunately, we were back on the road in short order, and I was able to pass him up and establish my pace before turning onto another pedestrian trail 0.6 mile into the race.

 

On the road, before turning onto the pedestrian trail

 

We would take the pedestrian trail to the turn-around point three miles away and retrace our steps to the start/finish line. The race was largely uneventful for me along the pedestrian trail. As I neared the three-mile mark, I decided to count the runners as they passed by me, now headed in the opposite direction toward the finish line. After concluding I was in the top 40, I made it my goal to stay there for the remaining three miles. This was a hilly and winding trail, and, as I began to feel its effects on the return trip, I contemplated the tenuousness of my position.

 

My daughter on the same stretch of road

 

Not long after reaching the five-mile mark, I could hear the commotion at the finish line. That was music to my ears. How I wished I was there now. Instead, I was fighting to maintain 38th place. A runner had overtaken my position earlier, before I passed him back as he paused at the water station. But he was now in front of me again and running good. Coming down a switchback, I took a quick glance around at the trail behind me and saw no one. My position seemed secure. Shortly after turning onto the road again for the final 0.6 mile of the race, I observed a young female runner doubled over in a coughing fit at the top of the hill. Passing on her side, a weird and inexplicable mix of sympathy and envy overtook me. I felt bad for her and yet coveted her non-running status. And similar to how yawns are oftentimes passed around among people in close proximity to one another, I felt as if I, too, could have become sick had I stuck around.

 

Turning onto the road for the final 0.6 mile

 

I was now in 37th place and noticed I was quickly gaining on two others. They were downhill from me, and I knew I had only a small window of opportunity before the road leveled and began to climb again. I pushed it downhill, afraid that perhaps I was going too hard, and eclipsed the two runners. I kept pushing, trying to put as much distance between them and me before the road turned uphill for the final time. Ascending the hill, I could not outrun the sound of feet behind me. I was running out of gas, but I didn't want to give up the position for which I'd fought so hard. Ahead of me was the fellow who had passed me twice earlier in the race. He seemed to still be moving along fine, though I had shortened the gap by a considerable distance. I couldn't believe my eyes when he suddenly stopped running with the finish line in sight. I remembered having done the exact same thing last year at the Over the River 8-mile race. I lost a position over that, but I was so exhausted, I didn't care. I imagined this was how this man was feeling now. As I passed him by, I continued running hard up the hill, determined to stay at least a step ahead of the runner behind me.

 

Gun time was 50:00; official chip time was 49:52

 

I did maintain the 34th overall position to the finish and crossed the line at just under fifty minutes, one second ahead of the runner behind me. Being 34th out of 115 finishers sounds respectable, but I was way in the back of the pack, 7th out of 8 finishers, in the men's 40-44 category (incidentally, the man nipping at my heels down the finish placed 2nd in the 30-39 year-old division). I had run hard and never let up, while giving it all I could at the finish, so I felt good about that. And my time of 49:52 was 4:19 quicker than last year, another cause for celebration. My daughter would pull in about eight minutes later and take 3rd place in her division, just as she had last year. Upon her finish, we headed into the lodge for complimentary Taco Bell burritos prior to the awards ceremony. It felt great to sit down and reflect on our day at Tims Ford. This was, as we've come to expect, another successful and well-orchestrated state parks run!

 

Faster than last year by 1:32

 

After the race, food awaits in the lodge behind us

 

       

 

     

 

 

Grinders Switch Turkey Trot

We were on the square in Centerville, Tennessee, Thanksgiving morning to participate in the Grinders Switch Turkey Trot. My oldest daughter and I were running the 10k course, and my wife and youngest daughter were walking the 5k. With the temperature hovering just above freezing under cloudy skies, we were off and running just past 8 a.m. The course immediately took us downhill and to the left toward Highway 50. I took advantage of gravity through here to pass as many runners as I could. At this point I was in 4th place in the men's division, the same position in which I would finish, as I never came near any other runners after turning onto Highway 50.

What goes up must come down, and, after turning off Highway 50, it was payback time. The road through here seemed to go up as far as the eye could see. It would disappear around a turn and go up again. I remember one hill seemed exceptionally steep, but I was determined to keep running. Once I finally plateaued around a bend, I could see the road became steeper still. Feeling like I was about to die and with nobody else in sight, I slowed to a walk. By the time I had nearly crested the hill, I could see there was one runner behind me, so I sucked it up and started running again.

I ran the remainder of the course, which featured steep downhill sections and a long, gradual uphill back to the finish line on the square. I was pleasantly surprised with my time of 48:50, which gave me a pace of 7:52/mile, meaning I had finally broken the elusive 8-minute mile barrier. My wife and daughter, who had walked the 5k course, crossed the finish line fifteen seconds ahead of me, while  my oldest daughter pulled in about thirteen minutes later. Though this was a tough course at times, we enjoyed ourselves, as this was the first race in which we were all able to participate. We compared notes on the drive home and looked forward to eating turkey, thankful for another year of good health.

My oldest makes her way to the finish line

 



Youngest strolling along the 5k course

 

After the race

 



Bigfoot Scramble and Day Hike: A Standing Stone Twofer

We were at Standing Stone State Park yesterday for our second stop on the Tennessee Running Tour. The Bigfoot Scramble 5-miler is a fun event, one which I had been looking forward to since crossing the finish line near the Overton Lodge last year. The weather for this year's race being more agreeable than last year, I was glad to have a short-sleeve shirt to change into before getting started. We were off to the races a couple of minutes past 11:00 a.m., and I quickly found myself running from side-to-side to find an opening I could penetrate. As I broke through lines, I tried to remain conscious of the energy I was expending to advance my position. I didn't want to give back any of these early gains later in the race, a tactical error which I have been guilty of on several previous occasions.

By the second half of the first mile, I was running in the open and trying to find my pace. The next mile would be a gradual ascent, and I fully anticipated being passed by some of those behind me who thrived on hills. Maybe it was just because I was already so far back in the pack, but nobody passed me on this hill; in fact, nobody passed me for the remainder of the run, which may be unprecedented. Coming back down the hill from the turnaround at 1.5 miles, I sought out each of my daughters to offer up some encouragement. I still felt good, and I was running hard (by my standards) as I passed the halfway point.

Before I made it to the end of the third mile, the leader came barreling down the road in the opposite direction, roughly a half-mile from the finish line. He would finish, incredibly, with a time of 26:55. I remained strong, now heading uphill again, to the second and final turnaround. My breathing was under control as I ran pain-free to begin the fifth and final mile. I must have been focused on the task at hand because, though I waved to my oldest daughter as she was pushing uphill to the turnaround, I never even saw my youngest. Nearing the finish line, I was met with some disappointment as the clock came into view. Though I beat my time from last year by 2:11, I was thinking I had run faster than I did. With a chip time of 41:18, I was far down the list, the 9th finisher out of 12 in the men's 40-44 year-old bracket.

Coming in for the finish

 

Whenever my daughters crossed the line, we could eat. There was no telling how far back my youngest was, so I backtracked to see if I could hurry her along. When I came upon her, she had nearly a mile to go. I was proud of her as she ran all the way back, though the pace was agonizingly glacial. Once we were finally back at the lodge, we helped ourselves to the complimentary post-race spaghetti. Our bellies full, we were now prepared to make the transformation from runners to hikers.

 

Refueling after the run

 

The Lake Trail is 4.7 miles long and encircles Kelly Lake. Because the trail passes right by the lodge, we decided to just pick up the trail here, rather than driving to the trailhead parking. We hiked clockwise a short distance on Beach Road, the same road which we had just ran, before the trail veered left into the woods.

 

Kelly Lake, as seen from Beach Road

 

Switchbacks quickly led us up into the hills high above the lake. With many of the leaves off the trees, we could see down into the hollows and over onto adjacent hills. The lake remained in sight for much of our hike, as well (duh, it is called Lake Trail). Saturday was the first day of rifle season here in Tennessee, and the hills were alive with the sound of gunfire. There were so many rounds going off at one point, I was afraid the Viet Cong were shooting back. The firing soon subsided, and, after dropping down to share with Beach Road a second time, the trail turned north in the direction of the Fisk House on Standing Stone Park Highway.

 

Leafless trees provide hikers with a good lay of the land

 

Wikipedia states that Moses Fisk was an early idealistic pioneer in the area who built the house in front of which we were now standing in the early 1800s. The house, which is badly deteriorating, proved to be a useful rendezvous point for us later in the day when my wife was forced to turn back after knee pain prevented her from descending a steep slope to the dam. While my older daughter headed back with her mom, the younger one and I stayed the course, as we were now about halfway through the loop.

 

Fisk House

 

Steep grade to the dam below

 

Below the Kelly Lake Dam

 

After checking out the dam, we continued on to pick up the trail on the other side. The only problem was that I picked up the wrong trail. Thinking more about how my wife would make it back to the Fisk House before we could make it back to our vehicle parked at the group lodge, I failed to check my map and inadvertently stepped onto the Tea Room Spur Trail. As we approached the top of the hill and observed the rental cabins, I sensed I had made a mistake. Now with map properly in hand, I pinpointed our location, and we strolled down East Cabin Drive to access the Cabin Spur Trail. This trail gently descended the slope to reunite us with the Lake Trail. A sign at the bottom informed us we were 2.5 miles from the Overton Lodge.

 

View from the Cabin Spur Trail

 

On the Lake Trail

 

We crossed a bridge along the Lake Trail and came to a junction with the Cooper Mountain Trail. This is an 8-mile loop trail, beginning and ending in the park, which I had totally forgotten existed. I filed this away in my memory to hike another day. At this moment, we were on a mission to retrieve the other two members of our party before sundown. Now on the east side of the lake, the trail became quite easy, and we made good time. There is one section along the trail here worth noting where the drop is precipitous, so take extra care. We enjoyed the sunshine and the pretty views of the lake as we winded along the water's edge before closing the loop at the group lodge. The race event now long over, ours was the only vehicle remaining at the site.

 

Looking south from the east side of Kelly Lake

 

Kelly Lake

 

I drove us back to the Fisk House, where the other half of our party waited. Passing this way on the trail earlier, I had noticed an overlook high above but saw no path leading to it. The map showed access to the overlook was by car only. With the access road just up from the Fisk House, we pulled in shortly before sunset to have a final look at the park. Our day of running and hiking complete, I told the girls we were like the drivers who sometimes compete in both NASCAR and IndyCar races in the same day. I believe at that point they, too, felt like those drivers must at the end of the day.    

 

View from overlook

 



  



   





 

 

       

  



  

     

TN State Parks Running Tour: Halloween Hunt, 5-Miler

Today my daughters and I participated in our first state parks run of the season in Hermitage. Warm and sunny with practically no wind, we couldn't have asked for a better day to be running the paved trail around Couchville Lake in Long Hunter State Park. The Halloween Hunt is well-known among tour participants for its charcoal-grilled hot dogs and the costume contest immediately following the race. I'm not much on dressing up, but my daughters pounced on the opportunity to run in disguise.

A boring dad, Robin, and Katniss prior to the race

 

This was our second consecutive year running the race, and, once again, it was masterfully organized. After receiving our race bibs, I took off to walk and jog around the lake in the direction opposite of what we would be running. I saw a doe with two of her fawns not 20 feet off the trail. One of the fawns was wanting to nurse, but momma was having none of that. That fawn is going to learn just how rough of a world it is out there. Then again, if you're a deer in a state park, how bad can it be?

 

The course followed the same path as last year, so we knew exactly what to expect. Though it's considered an easy course, for me nothing about running is easy. I had a pretty good first mile, but I slowed some thereafter. A couple of people passed me in the last mile. By that point, I was pretty much just treading water and incapable of doing anything to prevent it. So I waved goodbye and kept running to the best of my abilities.

 

Near the three-mile mark

 

In training over the last nine weeks, I knew I was running faster than last year and had made it my goal to run the course in forty minutes or less. As the race progressed, I realized my expectations may have been too high. When the finish line came into view, I could see the race clock had passed forty minutes and was closing in on forty-one. I took off in an all-out sprint. Maybe I couldn't beat forty, but I could beat forty-one, by golly. As I crossed the line, the timer was so close I wasn't sure I'd done it, but the results confirmed my time of 40:59, more than three minutes faster than last year's time.

 

My 8:12 per mile pace is twelve seconds higher than where I would like it, so I'll just have to keep working at it, I guess. Of course in the grand scheme of things, it's not about the clock; it's simply about being active and enjoying a long, healthy life. Events such as these offer a great platform in helping to achieve this desirous goal, while meeting others who share similar aspirations for their lives. My gang had a lot of fun at this year's Halloween Hunt, and we're looking forward to when we link up again with our tour running comrades in November.        

 

Participants enjoy the free food & drinks post-race

 

A beautiful day for a run at Couchville Lake