Black Creek Park Cross Country Race Report
Some races one looks forward to, other races one dreads. Sunday's third cross-country race at Black Creek Park fell squarely into the latter category, thanks primarily to the weather forecasts of cold temperatures, showers, and possibly even the first snows of the season. I found it difficult to muster enthusiasm for driving two hours to Rochester in rain or hail, running in what sounded like
disgusting conditions, and driving another two hours home. Further clouding the event were Rick Hoebeke's injured leg and the almost complete lack of communication with the hotshot members of the open team, including the overall winner of the last two races, Brian Culley.
But despite some relatives visiting that weekend, I couldn't really come up with any excuse that sounded even halfway decent to myself, so Sunday morning at 7:15 I set out for Teagle Hall, my mood improving by the minute with the clear, sunny Ithaca weather. At Teagle, John Hylas, Herb Engman, Bruce Roebal, and Jim Miner were already milling around discussing the cool temperatures, and Charlie Fay showed up a moment later. We spent a few minutes mulling over the best route to drive, chatted briefly with John Whitman when he showed up to beg off on a medical excuse, divvied up the passengers, and then headed off.
The worries about the driving weather had evaporated with the sunny dawn, and indeed, it was an utterly gorgeous day to drive up 96 to Geneva, where we picked up the Thruway, stopping once at a rest stop and running into a number of other High Nooners whose schedules matched our own. The two hour drive passed quickly for me with conversation with Herb and John, who actually explained the lake effect weather we were concerned about hitting at the race site. A short time after the rest stop we pulled into Black Creek Park, found a parking spot, and upon opening the doors were instantly greeted by Rochester's custom version of the mistral.
It was a cruel wind, a biting wind, and a wind that before the day was out would whip a few errant snowflakes past us on our second loop around Black Creek Park's rolling course of grass, dirt trails, and a few bits of asphalt and gravel trail. After registering for the race and watching John Hylas flirt masterfully with the RIT girls handling registrations and t-shirt sales, we jogged the first loop of the course, remarking primarily on the one steep hill and the blasts of wind that hit in a few key spots on the course. I was still wearing shorts, tights, sweats, a long-sleeved t-shirt, sweatshirt, and windbreaker, along with gloves and a hat, and by the time we were done, I wasn't so much worried about what to wear (shorts and a long-sleeved t-shirt) as if my last layer was going to be drenched with sweat after overheating during the warm-up. Some last minute shoe-changing and craning to see the women's race finish (oddly, it was only a 5K, rather than the 8K distance the men were running - why the difference?), and we were up to the start line on the soccer field.
For me, the goal was to go out slow, keep my breathing rhythmic and under control to avoid stomach cramps, and just see what happened after the first couple of miles. The only problem is that I currently stink at going out slow, so I decided to key off Charlie for a while - he's always blowing by me when I start to die in the second mile. Nice idea, and it worked fine for the pace, though I could have picked someone a little larger to draft off..We went through the first mile in about 5:48, which was pretty good, and then came the hill.
A few words about the hill. It was steep, but not terribly long. Perhaps about half the length of the Cornell course's gorge hill, and between the steepness of the lower section and the top 10 meters. But it was straight, and clearly the people who had started faster than High Noon had not been doing the kind of workouts we had, including four gorge repeats on Tuesday and a truncated course on Thursday with three intervals thrown in, the last one being up the gorge hill again. In short, we owned that hill, and from what I could see, we blew everyone away up the hill. Just after the top, I pulled away from Charlie, and caught Bruce and Derrick Dean (one of the only two other members of the open team - a sad drop from the last race's nine members). Down the hill, around the trails, through the woods, around the pond, and we were back to the bottom of the hill and the three mile point, though I can't remember the exact split. Then the hill did its job again, slowing down a few people who hadn't been working on hills enough. I was still feeling good up and over the hill, and by this time I could see only one High Noon jersey in front of me, Eric Maki.
Through four miles I continued to feel good, ignoring even the blasts of wind that hit as we moved from protected trails to field to trails again, and picking off runners as we went. Around four miles, Eric was a good bit ahead of me, but there was a group of four runners between us, including ex-High Nooner Joe Simpson. Now, I don't know Joe all that well, having run with him only a few times before he left Ithaca this summer, but I locked on to him and pressed on through the stomach cramp that was starting to kick in. I was having trouble controlling it since I was running too hard to keep my breathing evenly matched with my stride by this point, so I gave up on that and just concentrated on the guys ahead of me. Into the last set of trails, I caught and passed Joe on a tight corner, picked off two of the remaining three in the winding dirt paths, and sprinted to get past the fourth guy just before a wooden footbridge that didn't really have room for two runners side-by-side.
As we came out of the trails and into the last partial loop around the pond, the geese honking in either encouragement or irritation (I'll assume the former since High Noon's cheering section was pretty limited otherwise), I managed to catch and pass Eric. But that wasn't for long - the exertion of picking up those last few places in the last mile had drained me, and first the last unknown guy I'd passed and then Eric came steaming past in full kick, Eric passing me right at the finish line.
I'd somehow managed, on a cold, windy, cross-country course with two mean hills, to run a 29:37, 15 seconds faster than my 5 mile time at the fast, flat, Ithaca 5 & 10. (Somehow they had Eric as four seconds faster, which made no sense, given that he passed me right at the finish line and couldn't have been more than a second ahead.)
I don't have the overall or team results in front of me, so it's difficult to relate how everyone else did. Rick Hoebeke ran at an easy pace for him, finishing right after me, and Charlie, Bruce, Derrick, and Tim Ingall came in within 20 seconds or so. John Hylas and Rick Cleary were only a minute or so back from there, and Herb was quite pleased with beating some guy whose name escapes me at the moment. High Noon's top finisher was Mike Selig, though he was well back from the money thanks to the visiting Toronto Olympic Track Club and Indiana Invaders.
After the race, we went for a short and geographically confused warm-down run; munched on apples, bagels, and cider; and applauded nicely for all the people who were a lot faster than we were and were going home with some rather impressive looking hardware and/or cold hard cash. And then it was time to pile back into the car and enjoy the extremely scenic drive back to Ithaca (on 89 this time), talking about how nice it would be to be able to decide where one's tax dollars would go within the government, listening to John Hylas's extremely clever though ultimately unsuccessful approach to doing just that (enlarge your withholding, get a big refund check, and send it back to specific government agencies - warning, the IRS will not be as amused as your friends), and discussing the realities of living off the electric grid like Herb.
Despite my dire anticipation, a more enjoyable Sunday could not have been --imagined.
-- Adam Engst
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