Tilting Against Cows Above the Irish Sea

A quick report tonight, with an invigorating 10K romp fresh in mind. We're on vacation in Belfast, Northern Ireland. I find out there is a set of runs at the famed “Giants Causeway” (wacky coastal rock formations) for Saturday, on the north coast of Ireland, just over an hour from Belfast city!

We rent a car and set out, getting lost in Belfast while my father-in-law announces his internal dialog about where I should drive. Thanks! We suss it out and soon we're on our way pushing north through the emerald green countryside on a sparkling fall day—brisk, but hardly cold. Perfect running weather!

Arriving in the quaint tourist village of Portballintrae, I find race director Lucy, a harried but friendly (shortish) gal. She'd told me earlier in the week the race was full, but upon noticing my email signature (cartoonist), I'm in! Maybe I'll do the design for the race shirt next year! Meanwhile, I squeak a race entry at the last minute. Thank you, Lucy!

The race finishes at Portballintrae village center, so we'll be bused downwind to the starting line. Runners load up on a few double decker buses for the short drive out to the start at a coastal trail. We exit the buses and take a charming walk, a good kilometer down a country lane through pastures to the start perched above the sea.

The 10K run begins on a small bit of flat, grassy ground next to a coastal trail, perched a couple hundred feet up a cliff above the ocean. I note there is scarce room for the 250 or so runners! To complicate things, Half Marathoners, Marathoners and Ultra runners already en route are on the trail. Did I mention it's generally a one-person-wide trail?! This could get interesting.

And of course it is, right away, as the field bolts from the start for a hill less than 100 meters away, said hill having room for but a single file. So, it's a dash, then a walk. Once over the hill and on the flat, I scramble by runners as I'm able, landing in a hole by the trail, right leg disappearing up to my knee, and going down. At least I fall on long grass, no problem, bounce right up and keep going.

It's a breathtakingly gorgeous day, and spectacular course. We scramble up and down hills on the muddy path above the ocean. Sometimes there are steps to climb. I continue to bolt past other runners when I can. To complicate things, there are plenty of Half Marathoners and Ultra runners who are either walking or running at a crawl, and I whoosh by them as cleanly as possible, often bushwacking through long grass and brambles.

Usually I don't get caught up in racing until the second half of a 10K, but this crazy course on a narrow path has me scrambling and jockeying for position from the get-go. And guess what, it's crazy fun! And I'm ready for it. I've been in Belfast for a few days, not running. So I guess you could say I tapered for the race! And, despite the hills and rough terrain, I've been training at Oaxaca's (Mexico) altitude in mountains, I'm used to keeping a rhythm on crazy terrain, so I can do it today.

Oh, did I mention the cow gates? Four or five times in the race, we run up 3 steps and jump over cow gates. It's fun! Who knew? I get into it. Sort of like a steeplechase. There is a ton of starting/stopping, climbing, rushing by slower runners, it's like a race where you make moves constantly. Man, I'm used to maybe 3 moves tops in a distance race. So I embrace it and focus on rhythm, and it works!

Throughout the run, I manage to keep passing other runners. Most are super slow, running the longer events, they are not in the 10K run group. But I can tell when I catch a 10K participant, they are going a heck of a lot faster. And, some of them fight me off. But today, I am in the groove – not one runner I pass is able to re-pass me!

This makes me bold, giddy, and I take off after one tough looking guy, blue shirt, tall dude. Then we hit the one water station on the course. It's clogged! Stand-abouts everywhere, get the hell offa the course! What a mess! I drink my water and realize there's nowhere to throw the cup out, so I retrace a few steps and hit the trash can. A bit of frustration, we've been implored to not litter. Maybe there shoulda been one more trashcan a few meters after the drink station (minor complaint)?

The blue shirt guy is now 30 meters up on me, and I can't dent his lead too much. Well, we hit a killer downhill. I'm like, WTF, let's go. I bolt down the hill and pull up on him. I'm exhausted, but still full of adrenaline. My altitude training helps me rhythm up. I roll by blue shirt dude. He doesn't fight and I eye the next guy, a good 40 meters up, white shirt, teen dude.

I catch him at the bottom of a hill, another kilometer on, but then he flies up the hill before I can pass. Go kid. Don't let the old guy getcha! We turn at the top and the finish is 50 meters on. Aw hell, no wonder white shirt teenage dude took off! I sprint those last few meters and forget to turn my watch off at the finish. What an exhilarating run! Total fun! I guess I was a couple seconds over 50 minutes, not bad for such a shit-kicking trail run. I'll look up the results when they are posted. I think I was top 15, we'll see.

OK, here I am three weeks later, finally the results were posted. I finished 12th out of 220 runners in 50:27, decent time considering the terrain, fences and scores of slow runners on the one-person-wide path!

I'll be back again for the Causeway Coast races if I can! What a blast!

Want to book a Oaxaca, Mexico running tour? Email Steve!

Outkick The Cheater!

Today was the fourth annual (Insert race name here) 10K in Oaxaca's Parque Llano. Why don't I know the name of this race??? I ran unofficially to get a workout, as I'm in the early stages of the next Half Marathon buildup. As the Grumpy Runner, do I have to know the name of every damn race?! Heck no.

It's yet another Sunday morning 10K in Parque Llano, Oaxaca's premiere venue for such events. This is a gorgeous park in the Centro neighborhood of my adopted city. I love these Sunday a.m. runs, they are convivial, boisterous and fun. The field is always pretty good, this mile high city is a real running town. An extra strong field is on hand today, with prize money on offer. A couple of the local Kenyans who live and train around here show up, sniffing a payday, and even chubby grandmother runners put their best foot forward when there is prize money on the line.

Me, I'm looking for a workout. I'd had a 24 hour bug earlier this week and I was happy just to be there. I do not pay the 200 peso entry fee so I am not in the money hunt. As an aside, it's perfectly acceptable here to run with no number. No race official or announcer hassles you on the course or at the finish.

I believe this is how it should be! I grew up racing in New England small town runs where this was acceptable. I almost always ran with a number, but no one bothered me when I didn't. Sometimes I just plain could not afford it. No big deal. But back to the subject at hand...

The gun goes off and we settle in. A pretty clean start for a Oaxacan race, things can get messy/chaotic here--runners bunching at the start line, pouring over, group false starts that never come back, but not today.

I settle in at a modest clip and I'm pleased to feel half decent! An honest pace, but not pushing my luck. Maybe 5:00 per kilometer. I'm coming off a PR 1:44:35 half marathon a month back (yup, a sea level race), but I've taken time off. No rush today.

But here's a dude with a shock of wavy gray hair, he wants to race. You go for it pal, I'm just minding my own groove. But every time I inch up on Mr. Hair, he takes off. I guess he figures we're competing for the 50+ division payday, fair enough. I pay no mind, looking to relax and hit a good rhythm.

Now we're rolling pretty good, not great, through 2, 3, 4K. It's an out-and-back course, I'm inching up on hair guy again at the turnaround. My middle distance past pops out of nowhere, I take the turn and put on a burst to get by Mr. Hair and another dude. Why not keep pressing? I like the idea of running a bit faster than my comfort level in a race, and manage a good kilometer surge. Pass a couple-few runners.

Coming back to earth, I hit a mild rough patch as we dip under an overpass and then climb up from it. One or two short, stocky Oaxacans ease by me on the uphill. We run by a big 7K marker (the only distance marker in the race?!) and I see 35:20 on my watch. OK, good workout in hand. Just want to finish in good order.

I'm working a bit to keep pace with the folks around me. We're running city blocks and taking 90 degree turns here and there, we don't run on Calle Calzada de Republica, a diagonal street that would be the quickest return to Parque Llano, gotta get in those 10 kilometers, yes we do!

With maybe 2K to go, two guys come up from behind, going pretty good. Without thought, I settle in with them and hitch a ride. This hurts, but it's do-able. After 5 - 600 meters, I have to let go but now we can sniff the finish.

I'm back to trying to keep pace with runners around me--I look up and to my great surprise... it's Mr. Hair! He's unmistakable, a skinny dude in running tights (amongst stocky Oaxacans in their shorts). When the heck did he pass me??? Answer: He didn't!

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Yes! Hair guy is so intent on a run for the prize money, he cut across the course on the diagonal street and shaved off a goodly chunk of meters, emerging in better position. There are very few course monitors out there, so it's do-able. I see it all in a flash, there's no way this guy passed me.

We're 800 meters to go and hair guy is right in front of me. I'm hurting pretty good from my two surges, but I stalk him. Seems I can hold on, working the rhythm. We're around the penultimate bend, and those who have something still in the tank pick it up. I'm next to Hairball now as the pace increases. I think, "I own you, dude". Yes, I was a miler in college, these instincts never go away, really. I'm 58 years old and nowhere's near as fast as I used to be, but I'm a bit pissed just now and I'm thinking, "What would Mo do?".

I'm waiting, I don't go too soon. Lay down your cards hair guy, let's see what your cheating butt has left in it! He tries to take off with about 180 to go and I cover that. OK, my turn, and I'm away. Take the last turn and hit the gas. Take it up to a good middle distance cruise if not an actual sprint. Through the line and I don't look back. I like to chat with fellow runners after the race, but what am I going to say? "Did you plan ahead to cut the course, or was it spur of the moment?"

OK, I freely admit, Mr. Hair might have somehow slipped by unnoticed. It happens. But I was pretty aware over this run, and noticed a couple very stocky Oaxacans in shorts going by in the second half, but nary a skinny dudes in tights. In the end, it pulled me to a 1/2 decent race. I was surprised to check my watch and see 49:57. Not that fast, but for today I'll take it.

Want to schedule a Oaxaca hill/trail running tour? Email Steve