Racing Uwharrie

Those who have read my blog for a while know how I dog my Mizunos, possibly, the best sneakers I ever had. But, you don't know my other dark secret: buried in the deep recesses of my car trunk exists a hungry pair of beasts... my New Balance trail shoes.

For more than a year, they survived without stimulation. No grass cutting, no hiking, no plain old kicking around, and certainly no running. In fact, I forgot they were there... until Uwharrie. Driving through my second rain shower on the way to the 500 million year old mountain range, possibily the oldest in the world, I grew worried for my pretty-boy Asics, having never seen a speck of mud. Then I remembered my New Balance, sitting in the trunk just waiting for the right moment... waiting for Uwharrie.

Like my New Balance, the Uwharrie Moutains have seen better days. Once more than 10,000 feet, the Uwharrie's now rise only a 1,000 feet at their highest peak.
That's not to say there isn't some elevation gain in the race. We were reminded by the director early on not to leave it on the first ascent. Congestion on the narrow double track of that first hill caused most to resort to walking.

Though time has worn the mountain down nearly 9,000 feet it's trail reminded me that my 36 years on this planet meant comparatively little to it. Rocks and roots and trees and streams were obstacles at every turn. The quick footwork I developed with my early cadence work this season proved invaluable in thwarting the mountain from tripping me. Keeping my eyes on it's trail nearly the entire race, I slipped only once when I looked over my shoulder to check on another runner who fell. I never took my eyes of the trail again.

Techincally, it was a difficult run. My heart rate surged and dropped dramatically as I encountered peaks, passed runners, and eased my way down slippery slopes. Passing in itself required great skill and tactics as you never really looked up until you saw someone's sneakers at which point you were too close for a clear view of the single track trail. Quite often I'd catch up to someone, then back off to pick my lane for passing, if one was available. Sometimes, I just had to hang back and wait. Truthfully, I welcomed every one of those opportunities!

Nearing the five mile mark and only aid station on the 8-mile course my calves felt dead. I was certain I could sustain my pace but not so sure I could keep up the fancy foot work that kept me from stumbling like so many others I witnessed. I hit the aid station at exactly 50 minutes for a 10:00 per mile pace... truly amazing considering I walked the first ascent.

A small cup of Gatorade, an orange slice and less than a quarter banana later, my legs were back. Concerned about dead legs for the last ascent, I cooled down to a more moderate pace and 170-something heart rate when I caught up to a woman from Chapel Hill.

We talked about kids and daycare and triathlons and ocassionally her older son would pass us then drop back until eventually he moved ahead for good. Then a guy from Salisbury, NC caught up and we all ran together single file through a couple of streams and up some difficult climbs. We almost lost the trail once but, luckily I spotted the white blaze to our left.

We all cruised in together and shook hands over oatmeal cookies and Gatorade and thanked each other for the conversation on those last few miles. I never got the woman's name, but the guy behind me was Dave from Salisbury, NC. Waiting for the "Dead Legs Express" to transport us back to our cars, we met up with Rich from Hillsborough, NC, I believe.

Throughout the entire race, my New Balance trail shoes played bodyguard for my ankles protecting me from several possible twists and turns.
I couldn't have asked for a better performance from a pair of shoes I keep in the trunk of my car. For their effort, I took their picture with probably the most unique finisher's medal I've ever received: a handcrafted clay medallion.

Without a doubt, Uwharrie will see me next year at the 20 or 40-mile distance. And I can't help but think that a November Ironman just might be adequate training for the 40-mile effort in early February 2007.