Shadow of a Doubt

Cast a Shadow Snowshoe Race Report
You are warned...I write too many words...
Saturday, February 7th, 2015

Saturday was the 10th running of Goose Adventure Racing's Cast a Shadow Race.  This crew puts on a solid set of races, and CAS is no exception. The format?  A 6 hour race.  There are relay teams and a solo division.  If Punxsutawny Phil doesn't see his shadow, only laps that are complete before the 6 hour mark count.  If he does...tadah!!  Any lap that starts BEFORE the 6 hours counts.  As long as you finish it.

Danielle and I after the 2014 relay.

Last year, I did the relay with friends Jenn Mullen and Danielle Snyder.  Our team was "First Step is a Doozy!"  And it was.  We had a fine time freezing and heating up and sweating and changing clothes and eating.  That's what happens in a winter relay, right?  I remember looking at the solo
racers and thinking...those people are nuts.  7 people completed a marathon or more.  What? (P.S. I like crazy).

When I laid out my plan for 2015, there was no hesitation, I'd do the solo division of Cast a Shadow.  And my goal would be a marathon.  Because who doesn't do a marathon?  In February.  On snowshoes?  Going into the race, I had a terrible 15 mile run in one back pocket, and a great 18 mile run in the other.  18 miles.  My longest ever on trails.  Hmm.  The week of the race, snow fell.  And fell.  My goal of 26.2 or more...hmmm.  My left hip flexor hurt.  Why, oh WHY did I tell ANYONE my quiet goal of a marathon? Hmm.

Night before the race...4 boys in my house, didn't go to sleep until 2am.  I woke up at 6 to register for ANOTHER snowshoe race.  Good lord.  I would run for longer than I slept.  Shit.

I had put my goal into writing to my friend Mort.  An average 12 minute pace.  45 total minutes of rest, sock changes, potty stops.  Sounded reasonable.  Race day text:  "how do you feel about knee deep snow?"  Great.  Freakin' great.  At least Phil has seen his shadow...extra time for me!

ALL of these people passed me.  Photo:  Ron Heerkens, Jr.

The race began at 2pm.  Light snow fell as we lined up at the start...well, no one really lined up at the start.  NO ONE.  Hell.  Someone should.  So, Robin, Mike M and I moved up.

Here's the start...See all those people behind me?  They all passed me.  That's okay.  I looked really good for Ron's camera for 12 meters or so.

Getting some motivation.  Photo Credit:  Ron Heerkens, Jr

Each loop was...2.3 miles?  Or so?  I don't know.  It didn't matter.  The temperature was good, the snow stopped.  People were happy.  Chatting.  At the end of loop 1, I gave the crew some entertainment.  Falling up the hill.  And AGAIN on loop 2.  I took another racer down with me.  Couldn't let her pass me while I was down, right?  I stopped every loop.  Got high fives.

Took some water, some calories every so often.  Changed my socks...They were sopping wet.  Blah.


2 hours in, 10 miles.


Somewhere around loop 5, the little gaiters I wore started to shred.  And bounce around.  Fill up with snow.  And get tight.  Efff.  This became some stupid thing to focus on.  My pebble.


Each loop, I stopped and adjusted them like 92 times.  No kidding.

Photo Credit: John Greene

Loop 8?, and we had to put our headlamps on.  I put mine on my head.  But didn't turn it on.

When I tried, it didn't TURN ON.  Perfect. Progressively darker on that loop, I stumbled, got mad.  Frustrated.  Deer darted in front of me, jacking my heart rate up.  I fell down, 3 times that loop.
When people passed me, I gratefully stepped aside.

4 hours in, 19 miles.  More than I'd ever run on trails!

That was not the case Saturday.
Snowshoes do not look good

Sometime after that, I had my moment with the damn gaiters.  I *might* have overreacted.  I ripped them off in a panic.  Well, halfway off.  THESE were the things that were slowing me down, not my tired legs.  Get them OFF.   Luckily, someone came to my aid, saved me from the evil things.

The rest of the Roads are Poison team, the other racers, friends who came out to watch, Ron the super photographer.  They saved me, too.  One helped me dress, one was on the course all 6 hours.  The others cheered and encouraged.

su-weet!!

Around 5 hours in, I figured it out.  I was going to make it.  I passed Greg, and asked "Is this damn thing over yet?"  "No", was all he said.  I told him then, though, that I was going to hit 26.2  I was at 24 and change.  I couldn't wait to see him on the next loop.

At 5:58, I let out a rebel yell (I DID go to school in New Orleans).  I stopped and made a snow angel at 26.2 miles.  I had done it!!  Crap.  I was still more than a mile from 'home'.  No matter.  I ran the last mile in slowly, but happily.  I saw Greg for the 17th time (or so), and shuffled in.  Every step I took set a new distance record for me.

Humble to be part of this group...several folks did 30 miles!!
The rest of us did 27.5 ish.  Whoohoo!

There were several times I did not think I was going to make it.  Before the race.  And especially during the hours in the dark.  You can prepare and plan.  But inevitably, doubt will creep in.  The people you have around you that believe in you, they know the truth.  But you cannot see it until it's done.  And it was done.

My Garmin said this...I set no land speed records, for sure.  But I achieved my goal.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt, this was one of my favorite days.  I got to spend hours with friends, outdoors, being challenged to keep moving forward toward perceived limits.