Another Level of Hard...

I nabbed a nice 4 ½ hours of sleep last night and then dragged myself out of bed to meet Jon for the drive up to Hudson Highlander. We determined we’d leave the keys out so whoever got back first could get into the car. Jon, as always, quickly pointed out I’d be the first back, and as usual, I shrugged and pointed out that this might be his day. Privately, I had very mixed feelings about this, though I admit the conflict of sentiments was only because Jon had showed me maps of the mayhem I was about to endure…
I signed up for the Highlander, knowing quite well that the event would draw an interesting and unique blend of characters. The 26.2 km orienteering fest included three separate legs, all on different maps (though there was overlap between two of them), and a trail run in the mix. There would, of course, be some of the Orienteering studs who make even the best adventure racing navigators look mediocre. Not only are they incredible map readers, but they are some of the most gifted runners I have ever seen. They are fast, of course (VERY fast), but when you consider the speed with which they glide across terrain many Americans wouldn’t even dare walk upon for more than a few meters, all the while taking in fine detail on a map I need a magnifying glass to take in in its entirety…Well, I don’t ever expect to compete with that. Then you had your requisite AR junkies who came out for the race; Jon, Joe, Jeremy Coglan, Chris O’Bara, Dan Branen and a few others toed the leaves as we all stood in a circle on a wooded hillside a ways off in the woods from the start. And finally, there were a plethora of orienteers who may have once had speed to compete at the highest level but who still have impeccable orienteering skills which allow them to move surprisingly quickly at a walk and occasional trot. So, I knew I had my work cut out for me, but I still had hopes that I could run a good race and have a respectable finish, say in the top 15, give or take…there were 74 competitors.
But then I looked at the maps, and my stomach churned a bit. “Ho-Lee Shit,” I muttered as Jon gave me that smirk, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. The map I had in my hands as we drew near to the start was absolutely the most detailed piece of cartography I had ever seen. Thousands of rocks were marked, individual black dots, triangles and bars that swept across the entire terrain. A quick glance out the window confirmed that the ground was absolutely littered with rocky debris. The contours were incredibly fine, and every millimeter of the map was marked with some degree of detail, usually a high one. I didn’t even know where to begin; there weren’t even many trails out there. And then we showed up, and I started recognizing people from the orienteering heavens. Of course, there were those I normally judge myself by, but I soon realized that the start list included what appeared to be roughly two dozen runners who all are either currently on the US orienteering team, had been close to making it or had been in the past. Top 15 might be a little ambitious, I told myself, gawking at the incredible field standing about me, and then we were off into woods, and I was completely overwhelmed by the bedlam of people darting off at shockingly fast paces over extremely uneven terrain.
The first two controls went smoothly enough, and I found myself still around Jon, Joe and some other quality runners. And then I realized I was in a race that was operating on a totally different plain of difficulty than I had ever known existed. Seriously, I have done some tough races out there, from O-events to nav intensive adventure races, but this made everything seem like a walk through the mall with the assistance of the local directory. Extremely long distances for an O race with very few trails, incredibly technical terrain and almost no easy attack points. At least not the ones I’m used to pinpointing in AR or even normal weekend O-meets. This was something different, and I quickly learned that this would be a day for perseverance, humility and trying to shape it into a learning experience. Little needs to be said about the course itself other than the fact that I turned my ankles more times than I thought possible, and I spent the last several hours racing against a guy who probably had 35+ years on me and who barely even jogged while I TRIED running when I could. Of course, he was sharper than me, and eventually I came to accept that while I’d blow him out of the water if there were any damned trails in the woods, I’d just have to eat my humble pie and accept it would be a dog fight until the end (and it was).
Ultimately, I finished the race in 6 hours 10 minutes, roughly two hours under time ( I did take the old guy down, though!...I can’t say I took much pleasure from that feather in my cap…). By the time I was done, I was just happy to have finished and come out of the woods with no significant injury. I knew I had run a relatively poor race, but while 42nd was nothing to brag about, I was expecting to be lower down in the rankings, so I’m at least glad for that. The winner? 2 hours and 44 minutes! UN-FRICKIN-REAL! For someone to run that far over that terrain, with those maps…as Dolph said in Rocky IV after being pounded by Balboa, “He’s not human”.
Thankfully, adventure races are only…oh maybe 1/100 as hard as this and your average O-meet is far easier as well. I can hang my hat on the fact that I can hold my own in less complicated settings, but I also realized there is still SO much to learn. And I guess at the end of the day, this made it all worth it. But then the Red Sox got swept out of the playoffs and the Pats blew a fourth quarter lead…what a day…