The race started at 8:00 just outside Nederland on the Eldora ski hill.  We rolled in a little before 7:30 and leisurely applied sunscreen, visited the john and stood around shivering.  The group of racers assembling in the parking lot was a lot smaller than the crowds I’ve recently seen at the 5430 Sports triathlons held at the Boulder Reservoir this summer, which was a nice change.  It’s always nice to try out a relatively new race in the quiet of your own backyard without the heavy breathing and stink of 1500 of your closest friends.

A few minutes before race time we gathered at the start line to hear Paul, the race director, say a few words.   In a nutshell he said: “Thanks for giving me another chance.  This year, no one will get lost.  The course is very well marked; don’t go through the white tape, and turn where the little signs are.  The ground is really saturated; try to avoid the big puddles of mud, they’re about 8 inches deep.”

I grinned to myself; I really like mud and a nice, saturated ground.  Forest running is a total high for me and I was ready.

Like cows being corralled, we jammed through the starting area with mincing steps so as to not trip over someone else’s feet.  Luckily this lasted less than a minute before the racers found their paces and magically there was room for arm swinging and long strides over mud puddles.  Juli and Shari were a few steps ahead of Susan and me and within two minutes we lost them in the crush of people.

Starting at the base of Eldora there is no where to go but UP.  We climbed steadily for a little over a mile before leveling off in a meadow for a few minutes of quick recovery before starting another huge climb.  Water and Gatorade was available at Mile 2, handed out by those wonderful, friendly volunteers that make a race go smoothly or tank.  As I partook in a few sips of water Susan came up from behind; she had me in her sights the whole time. 

Immediately after the water station we went down a steep single-track and I lost her again.  I’m usually pretty good on downhills and can pick up some speed during my controlled hurtle to the bottom.  As we came out of the decline and started climbing again, Beth of the Infinite Legs came up from behind and easily worked her way up the hill.  I’m more of “the little engine that could” and kept chugging away, watching her graceful ascent as she passed the nearest ten people before she was out of sight.

A few minutes later I heard her laughing up ahead.  As I drew around a bend I saw her standing next to the trail with a smile on her face, telling people to pass her.  “You okay?” I asked.  “Yup, I just don’t have the downhill legs, you go ahead!” she said cheerfully.  So we all went ahead and did another controlled descent on a beautiful section of single-track, carefully aiming the feet at the sturdiest pile of mud so as to not roll ankles or step in the muck.  I wore my trusty Adidas trail shoes so there was a sense of security that my feet wouldn’t slip in the mud, but still; there’s only so much shoes can do.

And so it went.  Lots of ups, a few downs, and after the second water station we were directed up another hill and ordered to “stay to the LEFT!”  After a moment I could see why racers were being corralled again; people were hurtling down the trail on the opposite side as if their butts were on fire.  I idly wondered what race those very fast people were running and turned to chat with the person next to me except his head was down and he wasn’t interested in talking.

We climbed the ridge and turned right on the hairpin turn and then suddenly I was one of those incredibly fast people hurtling down the mountain.  Ahhh, I see… this section was a brief out-and-back.  Now that the climb was over it was time to pick up the pace and go “all out”.  As I descended I checked the runners on their way up, looking for any of my friends.  I didn’t see anyone, so either they were further back or they were past the viewing point and only a few paces behind me.

I had been playing leap-frog with a tall, black-haired guy.  I would pass him, he would pass me a few minutes later, and so on.  We did this four or five times until ultimately I passed him and left him behind.  His breathing was ragged and noisy.  That’s something I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to, the jagged breathing that sounds like a person is in a knuckles bared, raw fight for every ounce of oxygen possibly coerced into the body.  Honestly, if you’re having that much trouble inhaling oxygen, is running a race a GOOD idea?

After the last water station a young woman and I pulled each other through.  She had a few inches on me and was about ten years younger.  I could hear her coming up from behind and on an open section of moderate uphill she crept past me.  My GPS had stopped tracking mileage as there was no satellite signal up here, so I didn’t know how much farther the finish line was and didn’t want to bust a lung to keep my lead over her.  I kept to her heels though, until she stopped short and said “Whoa” as she looked at the steep downhill we had to navigate.  As I said before, downhill is an old friend to me; I regained my lead easily and showed her the path down. 

Coming down the last section I started hearing generators below me; we were almost home.  The young woman had regained her lead after the downhill and now I worked to close it.  I imagined that we were coming down the hill from Dowdy Draw in Eldorado Canyon and let it all out the last half mile to the parking lot.  Knowing that it really wasn’t even half a mile made the last quarter mile go fast; I passed her easily and flew into the finish shoot with Juli and Shari whooping and hollering my name.

We stood in front of the finish shoot and hollered for Susan, Beth, Beth, Kathy and Jacqueline.  We were all there and congratulated Jack on not falling anywhere along the course.  After grabbing bottles of water, bananas and packets of Justin’s Nut Butter from the food line, we climbed into the van and headed down the road to the New Moon Coffee Shop for a well-deserved cup of coffee.  Relaxing in the warmth of the Colorado sunshine on the porch of the coffee shop, talking and laughing for an hour before loading up again and heading back down the canyon, we agreed that this was a fabulous use of our time and worth doing again.  Any time, ladies… any time.