Greylock Snowshoe

Well, my longest hiatus from racing is now over. For those of you who know me, I tend to race early and often. After taking a break from racing since Thanksgiving, I had a rude awakening at the Greylock 3.5m snowshoe race on Saturday. Since the USATF 50k champs in Georgia my training had been inconsistent due to an aggressive work schedule. I had been doing up to 80% of my running in the dark on the trails with the short days. While I tend to run pretty hard all the time, I was a bit nervous about my conditioning going into my first snowshoe race. For me snowshoe racing is the most strenuous type of racing; I like to compare to drowning for a half hour or so.
I got to Adams with plenty of time to get ready for the race, but ended up wasting a lot of time catching up with people I hadn't seen in a while due to my hibernation. The thin, firm snow cover indicated a fast race, but none of us knew what the new course had in store for us. I managed to strap on my shoes and get a decent warmup in just in time for the start.
I was pleased when my instinctual fast start got me into the lead. I wanted to get things strung out and settle into my own pace. About 400 meters into the race, Paul and Rich went by and put some distance on me. As we started to wind uphill, the gaps between us seemed to solidify. I could hear Elijah behind me from time to time, but not enough to cause concern. I tried to focus on keeping Rich in sight.
For some reason, I had thought the race was a 5k, so when we kept climbing after about 10 minutes of tough uphill, I was slightly confused. It got steeper, and I could barely keep running. As I looked upward, I started to realize that Paul had left us. Rich wasted no time in taking off when the course crested and we began our long descent. My hips felt tight, and my legs were dead from the uphill, but I tried to stay in contact with Rich. I began to worry about Eliah's leg speed, as his mile time is about 20 seconds faster than mine. The course was a little thin in parts, and it was odd to break through to mud and see a dirt-covered snowshoe. My lack of racing crept up on me at this point, and I unintentionally slowed down. A few steps from Elijah cured this problem, and I got back on the accelerator.
I ran hard through the finish as Paul was already running back to cheer on Kelli. Everyone else seemed pretty wasted at finish, and when Elijah asking if anyone tasted blood, I replied in the affirmative. While this taste can occur in other running situations, the combination of intense respiratory rate and cold, dry air is very likely to make you feel like your mouth is bleeding after a hard race. It's a good indicator of an honest effort for me. I was impressed when I learned that Paul had beated Rich and I by at least a minute and half. Then again, he was outkicked by Elijah last year (I was stunned as I watched from third), and I am pretty sure that Paul is not a big fan of second place. Either Rich and I are a bit rusty, or it's going to be long snowshoe season of chasing Paul. I guess we could just let him go and pretend he's not even in the race!
On an after-race note, I had some unexpected excitment on the drive home. I went to pass a semi on the right, and he turned into my lane a moment after I started to pass. No sweat, I tapped the brakes, swung left and passed him on the left. It was a quick move, but there were no cars close in back, and I never cut anyone off. Some RAM TOUGH redneck in a huge Dodge Ram truck was perturbed by my driving and flashed his lights at me. I thought nothing of it until he seemed to be trying to ride my bumper. Considering I can probably stop in half the distance compared to his 3 ton truck, I started to work my way through traffic to put some cars between us. He obviously thought his truck was RAM FAST, as he had two useless hood scoops (as oppossed to my functional scoop)and was weaving through traffic like he was driving a Miata. I'd let him get close, and then easily leave him behind with light pressure on the skinny pedal. While I would move into a gap with just enough room for me to enter safely, he would try to fly up and try to squeeze in by cutting people off. The traffic opened up, and I blased away from him for a bit, and then settled down to cruising speed to avoid a ticket. He came flying out of traffic at triple digit speeds and started motioning for me to pull over. He tried to force me off onto the left-hand shoulder, and I laughed as I tapped my brakes and he went flying by. I stomped on the gas and blew by him on the right. His next idea was to force me to the right shoulder. As he tried to get ahead to cut me off, I simply stayed about a half car-length ahead of his rumbling hemi. He was not happy. The best part was that he actually need to get to an exit! He had to slam on his brakes and almost rolled that hemi pig trying to make his exit. So if see a big red Dodge truck with twin hood snouts, stay away, that dude is crazy!