Getting Lost and Mad Cow Land Mines

It's less than a day and a half left to the Big Race, the Biggest Challenge so far, and I'm pretty nervous. I'm worrying if I've trained enough, if my preparation has been too slap-dash, if my diet has been good enough, if my shoes are too light or too worn. I guess it's normal to be anxious and feeling self-doubt before, and I'm aware of that, perhaps too aware of it and then that worries me too. It is starting to wear on my mood as well, even my  colleagues are wondering why I'm suddenly so grouchy and quick-tempered. Male-PMS and not getting laid, has been the most popular theories. Even my closest supervisor asked me if everything was ok. Now I just want to get to the start and get on with it.

"I'm fine, you asshole!"

The last couple of weeks have been rather slow, with little running. Once again I've excelled at tapering down, in fact, I've almost not run compared to two weeks before, which is probably too much. A couple of weekends ago I recced the start of the course, taking the train from Oslo and hiked 5 K from Grua trainstation to Mylla Lake where the start is to be held. It starts with an immediate climb which had me power walking up most parts of it. That was as steep as anything I've done, though it flattened out eventually and presented an hazardous wet and slippery mud trail over bedrock. I'm not looking forward to skeedaddle over that during the early morning darkness as I slipped and nearly fell a dozen times.

And just 3 Ks in I got lost. Suddenly it opened up, and I'm always weary when the the trees give way for open expanses of bog land. The trail markers ceased to present themselves, so I looked back, and to my horror I couldn't even see my own footsteps. I tried to recognize some land features, but clusters of trees all around barred a good view. I kept a southern bearing until I got to a hill, one that I mistakenly recognized on the map to be a slight elevation on the route. Well, the hill just got bigger and bigger until I realized I had been veering too far off to the west and that there really wasn't any marked trails around for quite some distance. In the end I got to some cliffs that gave a panoramic view of a big lake. If I could get to it's northern edge I would get back on the trail, even though it was just a kilometer away how the crow flies, I was unfortunately without my jetpack(left it home, doh!) so I decided to rough it out and scale down the cliff.

It's carrying that or food and water.

That didn't last long, I got down one ledge through thick pine trees growing stubbornly in this rocky terrain being cut, slashed and bitch slapped in the face by the branches. I came to my senses and back tracked all the way down to the foot of the hill until I got to a small animal track that eventually led me to the marked trails. I made a mental note of ALWAYS backtrack when lost.

Relieved and on, well, not that much wider trail, I got going again and eventually got to the second checkpoint. From there I headed up north east with plenty of climbing. And mud. I went in knee deep several times and the short distance between the checkpoints felt a lot longer. I finally got there and waded out in the lake to clean out the shoes.

The next checkpoint was at a signpost. I ran past three in quick succession, before I decided to do a map check. I wasn't sure of where the right turn was, so I went back fifty meters to a signpost that didn't really look like the right one, but I headed down south since it looked like the correct trail.

Here the trail was nice and solid. I heard some cow bells in the distance and suddenly ran into an enormous bovine face. My god the size of the beast! Just behind it there were some cow kids calves running off nervously. The grown-up cows was left for a delaying action, no doubt, and it was down to a stand off between us. As there was a few hundred kilos of difference between them and me, I started to wave my hands and croaked "Boo!" that resulted in them charging me for a heart stopping second before they turn around and ran off after the kids calves that had disappeared into the forrest. That was a clever and noble display off motherly bravery, and I do like that I was perceived as threat, though I bet they laughed when I stepped in some fresh dung a little later. A vicious and callously placed bovine land mine.

"Lol, like total fail, Daisy! What a n00b!"

After the Bovine Crisis, I once again realized I was lost, or I knew where I was; I just wasn't where I was supposed to be. I should have backed up whole lot more earlier, and, at this point I was too far off to backtrack to get to the next checkpoint. I was also too tired and just too fed up to continue further, so I called it a night and decided to hit a dirt road back to the train station. Looking on the map I saw that there was a red marked trail going straight to the road, as it seemed shorter than tracking back, so I went for that. The only problem was that it was marked red, which means ski trails. They are usually easy to follow since it goes through terrain that is covered with snow. And snow tend to cover marshes. Especially during winter, which it isn't now. So for the third time I paid for not following my own rule(can it be a rule when I've never follow it?) and had to wade across a smelly marsh.

I eventually got back to the train station, worried about what could happen when I  run that course on race day, in darkness. It doesn't bode well, but at least I know the first 10-15 kilometres of the start and the finish. And that I HAVE TO BACKTRACK WHEN I'M LOST! I can be incredibly slow some times.

Back TRACK,! Track back! Brack Tack! Braghh!

   

The Heroes of Telemark

The awesome Kirk Douglas, speaking with a flawless Vinjemål.

Finally, after two years since running Helteløpet for the first time, the Bar Runners was toeing the starting line in beautiful Rauland, Telemark. They've changed the course from road to trail, added a few ekstra kilometers and Bar Runners had doubled the number of starters, even though Keiko, the human whale, had dropped out. Kristoffer "Hard as Nails" Wilthil stepped up and was anxious to test his long running skills. We left early and chose the scenic route which gave us just enough time to grab some coffee, change attire and lubricate danger areas.

Kris has just applied some Vaseline in "privacy".

The weather was rather cold and the clouds were dark and heavy, promising rain and posing the jacket-or-no-jacket dilemma for a few people when we got on the bus to start. We got to wait in a hotel lobby because of the cold, so we decided to book a room while we were up there. It would be nice to save us the trouble of looking for rooms after finishing, being tired and muddy and all that.

Getting cocky before the start.

After visiting the bathroom a few times, we got out of the hotels comfortable confines and jogged out to the start with a few minutes to, well, answer natures call for the last time. We were definitely well hydrated, and perhaps a bit nervous. Five minutes to go and we stripped down, fired up the Garmins and wondered if we had time for a last twinkle. We were just leaking water.

Fighting the urge to pee

And we're off! We noticed right away that we were going at a very good pace, perhaps too good and suddenly it was a cacophony of beeps as a dozen Garmins announced the passing of the first kilometer.

I knew that my best chance to get out of the crowd would be on the first climb so I wanted to get in a good position for the move. I skipped and dodged around people up a small hill and noticed that I hadn't told Kris about the plan, he was a little behind me and I couldn't stop. We nodded to each other and I went off attacking the first long climb. I had hoped to stay with him for longer, but the competitive instinct kicked in and I had to get in position. 

I charged up the hill like a maniac and was at one point worried that I overdid it, but before I got to winded we headed out to a single trail that slowed me down. I was in the back of a long line and my impatience and urge to overtake runners caused the first setback. The trail was pretty technical with mud, rocks and bogs so it was tricky to scan for space to overtake somebody and focusing on where to put your feet at the same time. After a few cheeky moves I got what I deserved; I snagged my foot on a root and fell hard on my elbow and shoulder. I heard the guy behind me go "whops!" and possibly "That's right, m*********er, cutting in front of me like that!" under his breath. I scrambled up before he could go past me, bruised, a few gashes, though nothing but my pride hurt. 

After focusing on the ground for awhile, I got in behind an older fellow that kept a good pace. I called him the Asics Dude because of the socks and I would stay close behind him for much of the race. We were overtaking people fast and when we got out of the single trail and down to a lake I made my first mistake - I got out of the trail and hurled myself down a rocky slope to overtake a handful of runners. When I got down in one piece and on a broad gravel road I realized that I had shot up my quads for nothing. It was plenty of room to overtake people on for the next couple of kilometers. Oh, well. I got behind Asics Dude and started on the next climb into another single trail.

At around 10K I got into a gaggle of runners on my own level - getting ahead on the uphills and falling back on the downhills, though it was mostly flat and on dirt road so it was rather even. There was a tall, long legged guy I kept passing on every little climb just for him to shoot past me on the downhill. After yo-yoing like this a few times we spoke about this and he said: "Well, you're a Hobbit, so you climb better. Oh, a long descent ahead, see you later!"

Frodo Baggins.  (photo by Telemarkshelten.no)

We got some chocolate and electrolyte at an aid station by the cheerful volunteers before getting on some technical single trailed terrain again. I felt good and full of energy ahead of 10-20 people before I almost lost my shoe in the bog. When it happend a few times I stopped to tie it tighter on just for the whole group that I spent the last half hour getting past, running off. It was a mental blow and to make matters worse, I nearly lost my other shoe. Both of my band-aids on my heels had been worn off and the heel caps of my shoes were digging into my achilles. To top it off, it was pretty much all downhill from there, literally. My quads were shoot, and I had a hard time watching people screaming past.

The course would flatten eventually and I felt better and better, my spirit getting boosted as we got closer to the finish and more people and volunteers cheered us on. With only 4 or 5 K to go I had closed in on the group that had zoomed past me earlier. 

An older guy suddenly snagged his foot on wire and crashed down awkwardly. I stopped to help him up again when I saw his distorted face. 

"Are you ok?" I asked.  

"I think my back is shot," He said as I helped him up. I saw him limp off with his hand on the small of his back. It must have been sad to throw in the towel so close to the finish.

Just a 2 K from the finish and we turned into a road. I hadn't realized that it was a steep climb left and I could spot the Asics Dude way up there, powerhiking, no less! I got in my short-stepped, tippy-tappy climbing mode and tiptoed past the whole group ahead of me, getting 5 meters behind mr. Asics. The last 700 meters to the finish was all downhill and I just couldn't get past him. I crossed the line in 2:12:47 and went straight up to him, shaking his hand and telling him that it was nice to finally seeing him from the front. 

I went berserk at the food table and went in to collect the bag with my stuff. When I got back out again I could feel both my heels stinging. I got my shoes off and, man, it wasn't pretty. People walking past asked me if I was ok. "Yeah, 'tis but a scratch," I said, archaically.

"Worry thy not, Milady, I shall venture yonder to the Red Cross Squire and
have him heal my grievous wounds! Farethywell and Godspeed!"

But as I was looking for the Red Cross guys, a familiar blue shirt roared across the finish line, at an impressive 2:25:11. Kristoffer was worried about being last or not finishing after being reduced by shin splints the last few weeks, but this was a really great achievement. The Bar Runners made a good display and we were both thrilled by the experience. 25K across a beautiful landscape, with the sun shining and sharing the good feeling with hundred of runners and happy volunteers.

Kris' feeling good.

The positives

In the end it was a good race, I executed the plan of going for the few early ascents perfectly. I felt I maintained a good form and kept a steady pace, in fact, I was worried a few times in the flat parts that it was too fast. And the last climb up the road where everybody else were reduced to hiking I still had enough steam to float ahead, that felt really good and all the hill training paying off.

The weather was perfect and the organizers have picked an incredible route. 

The negatives

The shoes, or rather my lack of tying them on properly. I've had blisters before and just to be safe I put on some band-aids at strategic areas, but they came off when it got wet and my shoes almost slipped off. 

My downhills must be improved, my error at the first descent almost ruined the race later on. I guess it's down to rashness and impatience of getting ahead. 

Those two things bothered me, but in the end it was easily forgotten as we both were pretty elated and couldn't stop talking about running for the rest of the evening.

Medals are for kids and heroes, so we got
wooden plates.

Garmin Stats - Rodney
Garmin Stats - Kris

Finished in 2:12:47 as number 72 of 183 Men and in 10th in my age group of 31 starters.

Kris finished in 2:25:11 as number 112 of 183 and in 17th in his age group of 31.

Check out the video from the organizers. See if you recognize the clown at 1:54 and the happy couple at 4:02.

Please visit and like the organizers page