WyCo Wacos

Well, it was 4:30am, and I knew I wasn't going to get back to sleep. I didn't feel too hung over (buddie came in last night from Iraq), so, I couldn't think of any excuses not to run the trail race. I would rue that decision many times over the next couple of hours. There was a thin dusting of snow on the ground outside my house. I thought that would be fitting. I trail trace just isn't a trail race without a adverse conditions. On the way to the race, the light snow turned into a blizzard. I could barely see the road in front of me. I was getting a bad feeling about this.


As I pulled into Wyandotte Lake Park, the snow stopped and the wind died down. It was still cold, about 20 degrees, but that's nothing. The first thing I noticed was that were a lot of cars in the parking lot. Last year they had 45 runners. This year, they had a turnout of over 200. I didn't know there that many sado-masochist in KC. A lot of them must have been from out of town. There are a lot of trail racers who won't even do regular road race (too mundane), but will, willingly, travel a good distance to find a challenging, scenic course.


I've done the Chili run a few times, which runs on the road that circles the lake, and, it is hilly as hell. But, that's nothing compared to the trail. The trail was very well marked with little rad flags. The starter said that even "a blind polititian" could find it. I asked him "Demecrat or republican?" There's a difference, you know. I even led for the first quarter mile or so. Last year, only a handful of runners did the 10-miler. Oh, I forgot to mention, there were three distances, 10-miles, (actually 10.3), 20, and 30-miles. 1, 2, or 3 laps.

I let a couple more people pass in the first mile. It turns out that a lot more runners were doing the 1-lapper this year. The footing was treacherous, to say the least. There were rock and roots throughout. I got on a flat stretch that opened up to a meadow and looked around to enjoy the scenery. Big mistake! I hit a root and hit the ground hard. It wouldn't be the last time. I wore an old pair of trail shoes, but, they were still pretty slick. I'm going to have to invest in a new more advanced pair. So, you really had to focus on you footing on the entire trail.

Now, we started to hit some hills. They totally redefined the work steep. Lactic acid would flood your body at the top of each hill. You don't get that in road races.

We topped a big hill and there was a bunched up line of us. We were encountering a series of sharp, switch backs as we went down the hill. It brought to mind a slalom skier. Trail racing involves a lot of stabalizer muscles. I hate say this, but, I fell no less than 3 times through this stretch. Each one with an "$%@& me!" or, "Oh,@#%*!" expletive. I hope they thought I had Territes Syndrome.


I finally made it to the bottom of the slalom course. Then I looked up at, what seemed like, a sheer cliff. I mean I could have used a ladder to climb that hill. At the top, the trail ran along the crest for a stretch. The scenery and view from there was very nice. Be careful! Don't enjoy it too much. Then, it was down a steep, rock-strewn hill. I was a runaway train. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. I was just hoping that there wasn't a ledge at the bottom, because if there was, I was going to be airborne.


My body was really taking a beating at this point, the continuous, uneven footing, the steep hills, and the falls were starting to take a toll. To add insult to injury, my shoes were rubbing my left pinky raw. When will this nightmare end?

I really wasn't so concerned about racing at this point, as I was about surviving. I was holding this one guy off, though, then all of a sudden, he made a mad dash by me. We turned a corner, and there was the finish line. No time to make a counter move. He must have been familiar with the course. He, also, was in my age group. They only gave out one medal in each age group. All that for nothing.

I can't wait until next year!