MAGIC MOMENTS
(Originally written October 1st, 2000)
Magical moments during trail races happen less than often for me. During simple training runs, the magic flows like water from a faucet. Usually not at races though. The one exception is the Dunbar Brook Trail Race, luckily allowing this ever slowing trail runner to live in the past, once a year, every year.
No matter how unhurried I have been running up to this point, Monroe State Forest helps lift the weight from my shoulders and allows me to run like I once did, years ago. Well, it at least affords the appearance that I am attaining that speed. Over nine years of participating at this event, I have never had a "bad day" here.
I imagine that there are reasons why I am "lucky" at Monroe that I haven't thought of. It might just be coincidence, or me being more lenient on what constitutes a "good day" this far into the trail-racing season. Something I can point to, though, are the following positives.
Peak Foliage. The Columbus Day weekend is just incredibly beautiful in western Massachusetts, and that intensifies along the Mohawk Trail. Peak Foliage abounds. Glances upward from the path reveal unmatched splendor in the form of colors that appear surreal. The splattering of red mixed within the more abundant yellow-orange is so incredible decorating the trees that it would appear more in place within a painting, not nature.
Time of year. The coolness of the air temperature is a relief from the typical heat and humidity double feature normally present for our events. It is refreshing to gulp in a big chunk of air towards your lungs and actually have the lightness and crispness of cold air fill up both compartments fully. More oxygen into your lungs means more oxygen into your bloodstream, which means more oxygen to your brain, so you feel better. And when we feel better, we run better.
This combination of fall color and cooler air temperature make autumn ideal for a "fast" race. One for the eyes, and the other for the heart/lung combo. Both are suited for the mind. Which leads me towards ~
Daydreaming. With the abundant colors hanging from nearly every tree in the forest, it's easy for me to lose track of running. I believe it helps if you can keep your mind occupied on something other than running, while running. I usually like to let my thoughts drift wherever they want to go. If I can attain this drifting state, then fatigue usually leaves me alone during these stretches. The golden yellow orange hue that burns into the back of my mind from the surrounding leaves tint everything towards a feeling of being outside myself. It is almost like watching a movie of someone else running. It allows for the fall color scheme to end up taking my breath away, and not the effort of running.
Terrain. The Monroe State Forest contours lead me into a rhythm that is beneficial to maintaining a steady pace, and this helps give the appearance of a "good" run. The first five and a half miles or so is basically uphill, and if you maintain a slow steady beat up the climb to Spruce Peak you can find yourself topped out and feeling great before you know it. The simple "step in front of the next" effort it takes us all to climb this extended piece of landscape really simplifies the act of running. One foot falls and the next rises slowly off the back to re-take the lead of the last footfall and over and over again basically at the same time and distance intervals, almost hypnotizing me to the point of forgetting this is an effort. An assembly line for my two feet.
Negative Splits. Once you make the top of the climb, the remaining 5 miles or so is downhill, and runnable. This means the second half of the event is hopefully going to be faster than the opening half. Think of all the races you have been in; how many can also offer this option? Finishing up the last half of a race with a negative split has to make you feel good, regardless of your ending time. Playing tricks with your mind is good while trail running and racing. Nothing tricks my mind more when trailrunning than a faster / easier second half of a course, especially if the whole section is runnable. Monroe allows each of us a quicker return trip home from Spruce Peak, building our momentum like an avalanche flowing down a mountain.
Closure. For many years, Monroe / Dunbar Brook was the finale of the trail racing season in New England. While the season extends a bit further now, as events have expanded and been added, for many of us Monroe / Dunbar Brook is still the "end". We may even participate at another event afterward, but our racing season ends once we cross the finish between the pines along the Deerfield River. Knowing that many people are "wrapping it up" after this one contributes to a little quicker pace. People seem so joyful at this event, trying to capture some of that past glory called "speed", it just rubs off. It appears we all want to "go out" with a "bang".
It could be argued that there is nothing any "more" special about this race than others. But as I howl across the short open sections under the buzzing power lines, it feels different to me. I imagine leaving a wake of dust, crumpled leaves and fellow participants behind. I silently call loudly ahead to those I trail, never actually catching any. My inner shouts of emphasis are heard throughout the valley below. The joy rings true, it doesn’t ever matter where I finish. I feel vindicated, a trail runner for another season. I have explored another magic moment at Monroe.
{October 19, 2000}
