A person’s focus changes throughout the year, but it is usually an event that will take place that you know will significantly change your life. For some it is a math final. The upcoming birth of a child. The day a person is going to retire might be one. Another example could be a Marathon. There are a lot of people who stay focused on all of the above, or more. One of my more intense focuses recently was on the Sylamore Trail 50K, located on the White River in Allison, AR, which took place on February 15, 2003. I learned that sometimes the non-stop concentration of something is better preparation than other scientific approaches.
The approach to training for a 32 miler was a little different than preparing for a marathon, which I’ve only experienced once. But like any other event one is getting ready for, there are several different ways to go about doing it. I don’t think that I ever really figured out a specific format I was using for this event. I tried to stick to some of the basics like consistent weekly activity, and an increase in mileage, but I really didn’t do as much as I would have liked to. Since this race was all on trail, I suggest to anyone interested in doing one to spend some time on hilly, off road terrain. Busiek, The Little Sac River Trails, and Chadwick are just a few places around here to train.
Race morning weather was humid, cloudy, and temperatures in the upper 50’s, with chance of thunderstorms and dropping temperatures. The sun came out mid-morning, which made it hot, but the thunderstorm at 12:00 cooled us off. By the time I finished, it was about 40 degrees. Temperatures last year for the event were in the mid 20’s. In the Ozarks, you must be prepared for all types of weather.
The race advertised a river crossing at mile 1 and mile 31. This caused a tiny bit of worry due to the obvious fear of extremely cold weather and water temperatures. Cut feet or frozen socks might not be a good way to start a long day. Sandals stashed in my Camelback were put to good use, and within five minutes, I was across the river with out any cuts or wet shoes. I kept the river in my mind all day, knowing that the next time I crossed it would only leave a mile to finish.
Here is where you notice a significant difference in running on the Sylamore Trail, and running up and down Walnut Street. What would take me an hour to do on a normal day, was taking me an hour and a half or more on this day. Slowing down in lots of areas to concentrate on footing so I wouldn’t fall down a cliff added extra. I also took an occasional break just to take in the magnificent scenery. I finally made it to the first of three water stops, with my friends Tim Brayfield and Tom Lale a few miles in front of me, and Lindy Biglieni still hanging back with me.
Water stops; the best part about racing. They were set up a little different in Sylamore. Instead of people standing by the road handing you water as you run by, the water, Gatorade, cookies, fruit, ham sandwiches, more cookies, and peanut butter crackers were spread out like a buffet underneath tents. So, in order to take it all in, you had to stop. That was fine with me. In fact, myself and the majority of people around me would take 5 to 15 minute breaks at each of the stops. The volunteers were as chipper the second time around, several hours later, as they were the first time.
Just before arriving at the second water station, the first place runner Dink Taylor met me on his way in. He was covered in mud, but grinning from ear to ear. Dink also holds the course record with a time of 3:40:27 set in 2000. This year he finished first with a time of 4:04:42. Valerie Pino was the 1st Woman overall in 5:06:41. I still can’t wait to see that river again.
There was quite a spread between Dink and the next runner, and so on. There were not many people running together in packs. If anything, a few people would be single file, because the trail is single track and not wide enough for two. Every person I met seemed to share the same attitude I had, and offered lots of encouragement. I’m sure they were as excited about seeing that river as I was.
The race continued to get more challenging on the way back. The terrain was the same, but the mileage was starting to take its toll on my legs. Just before the storm hit, I was able to follow and talk with some nice people from Memphis, which was a good distraction from the leg cramps. When we arrived at the last water stop, the fear of the river getting higher and impassable pushed the Memphis friends to get done a little faster, leaving me by myself, which was ok.
This is the point that a lot of us have experienced where something else takes over. It didn’t make sense to me that I was still able to run after so many hours. The confusion was actually a rush, and thoughts of people who had experienced or were experiencing far more difficult challenges than I was, were nothing but inspirational. And then there was the river!
The kinds of things that had worried me earlier, like wet shoes, didn’t cross my mind any more. So I crossed the river, and waiting for me at the bottom of the last hill were my friends I made the trip with, to lend some last minute support. Lindy was kind enough to run the last mile with me. The excitement was growing. I pulled into The White River Angler parking lot for the finish line, which lacked the big time clock, banners, and loud music that was always present in many of the other races I have done. Despite the simplicity of my surroundings, I was overwhelmed, and still standing. The only other thing I had left to do was find a comfortable place to sit down in the warm cabin that we rented, have a cold beer and talk about the day. And it was a good day.
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sean said ...
This is one of my favorite races.
If you like rough rocky trails, this small race is for you. There are no awards, but the long sleeve t-shirts are really great.
JohnMontgomery said ...
Focus: any center of activity or attention, etc.
A person’s focus changes throughout the year, but it is usually an event that will take place that you know will significantly change your life. For some it is a math final. The upcoming birth of a child. The day a person is going to retire might be one. Another example could be a Marathon. There are a lot of people who stay focused on all of the above, or more. One of my more intense focuses recently was on the Sylamore Trail 50K, located on the White River in Allison, AR, which took place on February 15, 2003. I learned that sometimes the non-stop concentration of something is better preparation than other scientific approaches.
The approach to training for a 32 miler was a little different than preparing for a marathon, which I’ve only experienced once. But like any other event one is getting ready for, there are several different ways to go about doing it. I don’t think that I ever really figured out a specific format I was using for this event. I tried to stick to some of the basics like consistent weekly activity, and an increase in mileage, but I really didn’t do as much as I would have liked to. Since this race was all on trail, I suggest to anyone interested in doing one to spend some time on hilly, off road terrain. Busiek, The Little Sac River Trails, and Chadwick are just a few places around here to train.
Race morning weather was humid, cloudy, and temperatures in the upper 50’s, with chance of thunderstorms and dropping temperatures. The sun came out mid-morning, which made it hot, but the thunderstorm at 12:00 cooled us off. By the time I finished, it was about 40 degrees. Temperatures last year for the event were in the mid 20’s. In the Ozarks, you must be prepared for all types of weather.
The race advertised a river crossing at mile 1 and mile 31. This caused a tiny bit of worry due to the obvious fear of extremely cold weather and water temperatures. Cut feet or frozen socks might not be a good way to start a long day. Sandals stashed in my Camelback were put to good use, and within five minutes, I was across the river with out any cuts or wet shoes. I kept the river in my mind all day, knowing that the next time I crossed it would only leave a mile to finish.
Here is where you notice a significant difference in running on the Sylamore Trail, and running up and down Walnut Street. What would take me an hour to do on a normal day, was taking me an hour and a half or more on this day. Slowing down in lots of areas to concentrate on footing so I wouldn’t fall down a cliff added extra. I also took an occasional break just to take in the magnificent scenery. I finally made it to the first of three water stops, with my friends Tim Brayfield and Tom Lale a few miles in front of me, and Lindy Biglieni still hanging back with me.
Water stops; the best part about racing. They were set up a little different in Sylamore. Instead of people standing by the road handing you water as you run by, the water, Gatorade, cookies, fruit, ham sandwiches, more cookies, and peanut butter crackers were spread out like a buffet underneath tents. So, in order to take it all in, you had to stop. That was fine with me. In fact, myself and the majority of people around me would take 5 to 15 minute breaks at each of the stops. The volunteers were as chipper the second time around, several hours later, as they were the first time.
Just before arriving at the second water station, the first place runner Dink Taylor met me on his way in. He was covered in mud, but grinning from ear to ear. Dink also holds the course record with a time of 3:40:27 set in 2000. This year he finished first with a time of 4:04:42. Valerie Pino was the 1st Woman overall in 5:06:41. I still can’t wait to see that river again.
There was quite a spread between Dink and the next runner, and so on. There were not many people running together in packs. If anything, a few people would be single file, because the trail is single track and not wide enough for two. Every person I met seemed to share the same attitude I had, and offered lots of encouragement. I’m sure they were as excited about seeing that river as I was.
The race continued to get more challenging on the way back. The terrain was the same, but the mileage was starting to take its toll on my legs. Just before the storm hit, I was able to follow and talk with some nice people from Memphis, which was a good distraction from the leg cramps. When we arrived at the last water stop, the fear of the river getting higher and impassable pushed the Memphis friends to get done a little faster, leaving me by myself, which was ok.
This is the point that a lot of us have experienced where something else takes over. It didn’t make sense to me that I was still able to run after so many hours. The confusion was actually a rush, and thoughts of people who had experienced or were experiencing far more difficult challenges than I was, were nothing but inspirational. And then there was the river!
The kinds of things that had worried me earlier, like wet shoes, didn’t cross my mind any more. So I crossed the river, and waiting for me at the bottom of the last hill were my friends I made the trip with, to lend some last minute support. Lindy was kind enough to run the last mile with me. The excitement was growing. I pulled into The White River Angler parking lot for the finish line, which lacked the big time clock, banners, and loud music that was always present in many of the other races I have done. Despite the simplicity of my surroundings, I was overwhelmed, and still standing. The only other thing I had left to do was find a comfortable place to sit down in the warm cabin that we rented, have a cold beer and talk about the day. And it was a good day.
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