#30 for me, #17 for Sky- Cannon Mountain

Last week we had a few 70 degree+ days (like the day I dehydrated, for example), so I decided to seek colder climate. Luckily for me, colder climate also means mountains! To New Hampshire!

The decision was not last minute for me, but may have been for Jeremy. I asked him what his weekend long run plans were, so as to not interfere with marathon training. I mentioned I was looking to head to the mountains and he said he had to run long. And then he changed his mind and decided to long run Friday, a day before the mountains. And then it was “hot as balls” as they say, so he just biked instead. Regardless, Saturday was the day to head up!

I attempted to do some trail and mountain research, looking at recent trip reports to see what was manageable with just microspikes. Spring hiking in the White Mountains is a mess. The trails can be muddy below and pure hard ice above. Most of the reports I read were for mountains I had already climbed and very little interest in. Jeremy and I both thought Cannon was a possibility so we settled on that. Then, apparently, neither of us did any other research about which trails to take nor what those trails would be like.

On Friday at work, my lovely officemate and friend Telli said she and some friends were also going to hike something big in NH Saturday! I tried to talk her into hiking Cannon but I wasn’t sure if she has spikes or anything. She said she was going up with other experienced hikers and some less experienced hikers. I tried to warn her that spring hiking in NH does not mean the same as spring hiking in Massachusetts. But I trust Telli to make good decisions.

Anyway, Jeremy and I got to the trailhead SO EARLY, we were on the trail by 8:30am. I swear, when I am driving from Boston to the Whites, I drive through some kind of time warp black hole continuum space loop (that’s real, right?) and end up arriving in what truly feels like no time. I recall seeing many cops in NH and am #blessed that I didn’t get pulled over.

The trail we decided on—the High Cannon Trail—is not very long. It was maybe 3 miles from car to summit but that fucker sure did CLIMB. From Lafayette Campground right off Rt. 93, we started ascending immediately. I started with a short sleeve base, running top, and winter coat but quickly stripped down to just the base. This is my first mountain climb since Eisenhower and Pierce a few months ago and I felt amazing. I mean, really amazing, the climb felt comfortable and my movements were fluid. I wanted to run up the damn thing and coach Sky was really pushing the pace. Jeremy, with the long bike ride the day before, wasn’t feeling as great which was helpful in containing me and Sky. Otherwise we would’ve reached the top so early.

The trail was awesome a;so. Winding up switchbacks on the south side of the mountain, occasional outposts for a good view (something we did not have that day), and awesome large rocks. There were a number of fallen trees that were still growing, roots coming out of the ground. Very cool.

So…remember how neither of us did any research about the trail? This is partially because I really have never had a problem with Sky on the trail before (other than her dumb jump into the ravine last winter). I know most of the ‘dog problem’ trails like huntington’s ravine and the rock slide trails (although I think she could manage those, too). High-Cannon never stuck out to me as one that was reported difficult for dogs. Imagine my surprise, fear, anxiety, and nervous laughter when we come across a set of ladders and really no way for her to climb around it. They didn’t climb straight up but rather up and over a nice fall to the higher ledge. We tried to goad Sky into at least attempting to climb but she wouldn’t budge. I climbed ahead, dumped my backpack at the top and then crab walked back down the ladder. Slowly and carefully we hoisted her rung by rung with me on top, arm under her for support, and moving her legs one at a time up the ladder.

Once we got to the top of the ladder, we thought was we’d try to descend via another trail, since getting her down that ladder was just out of the question. Once again, research the trail!

The climb from here was icy, microspikes were needed and made for a smooth travel to the summit. The summit was fracking freezing with strong winds! We climbed the ice rimed observation tower but not for longer than a few minutes and then back into the trees. We hiked back down to where the second tral-Lonesome Lake- split and decided to eat. A couple of other hikers passed us near the summit and then again as we started our descent. We climbed down and realized that this trail had more ice and was initially quite steep. I was managing okay, but there came a section where Jeremy slipped and fell hard and slid a bit. It looked rough on him and he was understandable much slower and more careful after that. There was even a section where Sky was unwilling to try to go, so I went back up to move her around on a side path. The other hikers came down and passed me while I was trying to talk Sky off a ledge.

Foggy views

Tower just covered in ice

Eventually, there was a section that was really awful. The other hikers went up and around and that wasn’t too much better. Jeremy said it was pretty bad and he hasn’t hiked on ice this bad. I was less worried and more willing to try, but given that Sky wasn’t so keen I listened to Jeremy and… 500ft back up the mountain we go! We had one more option, the ski trails. So we ventured over there and my thinking was that these would probably also be icy, steeper, and exposed to the wind. But I kept my mouth shut and we tried it and they weren’t so bad! The non-snow sections were squishy. I sank 4-5 inches with every step. Stepping on a mossy rock led to a slip. When the trail split, we saw a lot of icy steepness on the main ski trails but there was a section below the tramway that didn’t get the same artificial snow all winter and had no ice. We opted for that as least dangerous.

Holy crap that trail sucked though. It was cool at first, but unrelenting. Huge downs, you never knew when you stepped how far down your leg would go. There was ample thorny brush and some hard to navigate steep sections. There were no trees to hold for support. Unrelenting. I kept joking aloud about how we were training for Barkleys! “It’s the rat’s jaw!” Sky had no issues. At least none she told me about.

So skeptical after we found some tires buried in this mess. Jeremy rolled one all the way down the slope! 

Baby Rat’s jaw! 

At the sweet, sweet bottom we walked 3 miles on the bike path back to the car. All in all, an interesting adventure. Got in some elevation, carried my dog up a ladder, and learned to do a bit of research before hiking.

Oh, how did Telli manage you ask? She and her friends decided Mt. Washington was the best option. I know Telli doesn’t have crampons or spikes so I got nervous when she told me that. They tried the Ammonoosuc trail and made it up about an hour before they realized they could not summit. She told me she went in sneakers and they didn’t have a winter coat. I’m so glad they turned around! Sure she could get up, but I don’t think they could’ve gotten down.

Traprock 50k- Crap, rocks, 50k

“Never give yourself an out. If you said you’d run halfway and then evaluate it, you’d drop at the half. If you said you’d see how you felt, you’d drop when it got dark or when it got cold or just when you got tired. When you lined up at each race, you had to tell yourself that if you bled from every pore, if your feet broke off and you had to run on your splintering shinbones, if monkeys flew out of the sky with AK-47S that shot ninja swords, you were still finishing that race.”- Mishka Shubaly, I Swear I’ll Make It Up to You

Connecticut, like much of the north east, doesn’t have that gnarly fearsome reputation for being a hardened trail racer’s nightmare. No one ever expresses deep concerns about their upcoming ultra in… Connecticut. I, too, shared this view, having pride in my western Massachusetts and Vermont/New Hampshire mountain and trail running experience. On April 16^th, 2016… in humble Bloomfield, CT, my pride goeth before the fall. And I certainly fell.

The race and race directors were great. The race was held in Penwood State Park along the Metacomet trail. The 50k consisted of 3 times around a 10 mile lollipop loop. There was also a 17k race, consisting of only 1 time around the same loop. The 50k started at 8:30am, the 17k at 9:30am, and we had 9 hours to finish. Any and all extra money from the race goes to Connecticut Forest and Parks Association, right back to the land that hosts us.

Dags and I, hoping to emerge later a Trap King and Trap Queen

So, right, here’s how it goes. Jeremy, who apparently has nothing better going on in his life, graciously offered to drive Erik (17k-er) and myself down to the race, he would hang out, and then drive us all home, an unspoken hero. We got to the race a bit early and had time to hang out, which meant I had time to realize that it was WAY warmer than most mornings have been. Did I actively start drinking water at this point? Nah. Soon fellow New Jersian, RVRR runner, and friend John D’ags and Gisa-saurus arrive. Dags was in for 50k along with his friend also from the Boston area, NP-Reed. Gisa, in a delicate state of AWESOME opted to not run 30 miles but instead hang out and get a haircut and massage, smart lady that Gisa. After a brief trail meeting about something important probably, the director literally shouts “Okay.. let’s start I guess.. 3-2-1 go” and that’s that.

So I’ll describe loop one to really showcase the course. You start by climbing up a few hills immediately, like from the first 30 steps. After a while, the climb evens out and you get a nice long downhill during the 2^nd mile. This takes you passed a road juncture, where you will emerge later. The downhill descends into a swampy area of rocky road type trail, which is gross to run on in my opinion. Then you have the second large climb, and this one is steep and unforgiving. After you get to the top of this climb, there is a pretty wonderful overlook, which is probably one of the highest points in CT for miles. For the next mile and a half, you have found the rocks. Rocks on rocks on rocks. Large rocks, small rocks, pointy rocks, round rocks. All these rocks were fun on loop 1! Technical running, nice breeze, this is what it is all about! The course reminded me of one of my favorite poems, as written and spoken by Albert Markovski:

“The rock just sits and is!”

Anyway, you come down a steepish hill into Aid Station 1. Now, most of my trail races so far haven’t been as pricey as this one and were primarily TARC events (with the exception of the Endurance Society race). TARC, also a no frills event, had humble but plentiful aids. This race had a ton of stuff at this random AS only 3 miles into the race. I mean all kinds of snacks, water, heed, medics, music, portajohns, everything you think you could want or need. While that was more important later on, for loop 1 I didn’t even stop but just ran through.

After the AS, you run a nice singletrack out and back, seems just to add an extra mile or two. After you turn around, you come back and split away before you get all the way to the first AS only to find another fully stocked AS not too far away on the same cut through road. Now we are about 4.5 to 5 miles into the course.  The course now climbs a long steady hill. Up until this point in loop 1, I had been near and chatting with Dags, catching up and all that. He was saying how bad he is at downhills but loves those uphills. During this long hill, I see him smile, laugh, and crank away going “Uphills baby! Wooo!” which was awesome. He should consider (1) moving to Boston and (2) running the Mountain Goat series!

along the middle of one of the climbs

The next couple miles are just a ridge line stretch, rolling along, with some beautiful cut out views. Then you turn left into another AS, equally as stocked. Then you run on a road for a bit. The road was clearly once paved and drivable, but it is kind of amazing how nature, particularly the tree roots, have torn it up. In a few years it will be trail once more. Right along this road I saw Jeremy, hanging out, probably bored. This road runs you down to that junction with the beginning on the course, and then you rejoin going back towards the start/finish. This last section was my least favorite, a long steady climb in and then rolling hills up to a high point and then a steep descent. You come out of the woods, cross the check in point, get some food/water, and then repeat x2. 31 miles.

Loop 1 was great. I think I finished in 2:04 or close. I was ahead of pace but feeling really good. This was probably the biggest problem. I was high on racing and wasn’t getting ahead on hydration. Most others could probably still catch up at this point with some heed and water. However, I am not just any normal individual— let’s talk about SWEAT. If sweating were a marketable skill, I’d be a self-made millionaire. My sweat output per mile is unbelievable in ALL weather and any conditions. I could speed walk a mile naked in the Boston winter and probably have a decent sweat in the makes. While this is gross and problematic in long hot races, I am not ashamed or embarrassed by this. I sweat, get over it. I still have managed to run with people  without managing to disgust them away. The most annoying thing is when I hear anyone complain that they think they sweat a ton. It’s usually perfectly manicured thin girls who know they don’t sweat a lot but make the claim that way when they have a single moist halo around their ellipticaled forehead everyone can comment that they don’t sweat. Shoot me. Anyway, I take pride in my sweatshop and have embraced the nickname donned upon me by Ryan and Ben. I even take pride in my collection of this statement, whom a few people have said to me: “You are the only person I know who may sweat more than me.” Hilarious.

So sweat is the friend-enemy, and the heat from a mild 60-65 degree day was enough to juice me in the first 10 miles so much that I had to slow and relax for much of the remainder of the race. My vision was blurry, my heart rate was spiking and taking a long time to recover, and I had all the symptoms of incipient dehydration and fatigue and still half the race to complete.

I ended up walking/running briefly for the last 13 miles. Jeremy joined me for this long section and I really enjoyed his company, talking when I wanted to, but more importantly—shutting the fuck up most of the time. This final lap was long, but once you start it there is no quitting and that is all I really cared about at this point.

Head down, like an amateur

At some point during this final lap, an older woman ran up and caught me. I spoke to her to tell her to keep on crushing it, and when I heard her speak, I realized that it was Katya! This amazing woman Seth had introduced to me over a year ago and who inspired me from her stories that day. We went together for a mile or so. I told her I fell once and was just happy to still have all my teeth—she told me about when she fell running the Mt. Olympus ultra in Greece and busted her jaw, lost her teeth, and was bleeding on the mountain. She is incredibly badass and I thought about her for much of my final miles, as I tried to pick it up and run again.

The legend herself– Katya!

I finished with a disappointing 7:40. That is a LONG time to be on the trails. The course was tough, the website claimed 2300ft of gain per loop but my watch thinks less—5000ft total. Lots of technical sections, but also lots of easy path. I should’ve done better, but I did walk away learning a lesson and still feeling accomplished for finishing. Hey, if you have a 9 hr cut off, I might take the whole time. Going forward, I think I will just avoid hot ultras. I can’t change my sweat, but I can choose when I decide to spend 6+ hrs in the sun. I don’t have much planned for the summer after Pinelands anyway, just Mt. Washington Road Race and possibly Mt. Greylock trail half the day after!

Dags finished about an hour ahead of me looking great! He took a magic Advil before loop 3 and said it changed everything. He’s even considering a 50 miler soon. NP Reed came in not too long after me, also looking happy! All in all, fun day and GREAT race. Big congrats to Erik for finishing second in his race, and almost looping me despite starting nearly an hour later.

Oooo, purple!

One final important, and quite sad event. This race was the farewell tour for my WT110s, the LAST PAIR. I mean a real farewell tour, too. Not like the Cher farewell tour, (my shoes have been on that trip for months). They are so beat up–there is no midsole anymore and the shoe is peeling away. I couldn’t sideline them for the race. I love them so much, but they were such a pain in the foot and ass for 20 miles. I could feel every step, they were just not worth it. I tried to throw them out at the race, but ended up just leaving them in Jeremy’s car for him to dispose of. If I took them inside, I would probably try to justify wearing them again for another run. WT110s were kind of an addiction… a bad habit that I had to kick.

No midsole = mud foot! (sorry for the gross foot pic, too I suppose)

RIP: The Final Pair of WT110s Probably In the World

You were a great pair of shoes, snug in the forefoot but not too tight on my toes. I loved the connection you allowed me to have with the ground, able to run carefully through the rocks and roots of the Northeast. Sure, I dabbled with other shoes while you were around and I’m sorry. I knew your light was dimming and I just wanted to make this transition easier for me. I’ll never forget you, WT110s, and I’m glad you were with me for a final ultra. I know you weren’t the most popular shoe, but to me, you were everything. Rest easy, and this weekend I’ll pour one out for you while I wear Topo MT2s.

Okay so time to summarize all the lessons.

• Drink. Fucking. Water. All. The. Time.
• Repeat the above.
• Maybe try advil? Who knows!
• Drink water.
• Make Fetty Wap proud #TrapQueen
• Armed monkeys be fucking damned, I finished.

Shoecide: The Real Cinderella Story

I will just start with the disclaimer that this entire post is my venting (re: BITCHING) about the fact that there is a particular type of shoe that I like to wear and I can’t get it anymore and the world is ending and everything sucks. So if you are the type of runner or hiker or family member or friend (I doubt anyone else is here reading) who dislikes people who complain about banal shit, stop reading now!

And yes, I know how hypocritical that is, because if I were reading my own post I would probably stop reading.

If it’s not broke, don’t fix it

I am a woman of routine. I have been running in minimal shoes since my sophomore year of college, which is also when I started running casually. I remember the first pair I bought, custom-made Nike frees that I designed out of boredom while at my office job one day. They were hunter green with hot pink lining, navy laces (yeah, ew), and my name vertically written— “TERESA” across my Achilles spine. They were fresh to death and I originally bought them so I could look cool while coaching soccer but then I started really running and trained for half marathons and marathons in them. My next few pairs of road shoes were Nike frees also, because they were cheap, accessible, and I once received a pair as a gift from an ex’s mom!

My first trail shoes were a large jump in the minimal shoe scene—New Balance WT00s (go Big.. er.. Small or go home, right?) I bought them in 2012, and I immediately felt legit. This is right when I started running trails a lot, partially because trail running is better than roads but partially because I like wearing fly kicks. From then on, it was nothing but New Balance, for both road and trail. I flirted with a few different road pairs, but settled on a huge love for the WR10 and WR00—a couple of the most minimal shoes on the market. I ran my first marathon in the old WR00s and my second marathon in WR10s. No, I don’t have foot and knee pain. I made a full transition to minimal shoes and my calves are made of goddamn iron.

On the trail scene, I picked up a pair of WT110s that looked like this:

I don’t know if I can fully express how much I love this shoe in a paragraph, so instead, I will express it in a poem.

 

These pink and yellow shoes are sweet,

I like to wear them on my feet,

I feel the ground with every step,

Training in these is good race prep,

Sure the midsole wasn’t ace,

And sometimes I fall flat on my face,

But the foot and toe feel is fantastic,

So overall I’m enthusiastic!

Okay, enough of that. Let me just sum up what has worked for me for the past few years by their NB given names and my own homemade monikers:

• WR10 (Gurus)
• WR00 (Roadies)– not clever I know
• WT10 (Cannons)
• WT110 (Traildozers)

New Balance: A dream killer

Let’s start with the WR10 shall we? This bad boy right here:

Do you know where you can buy it now? eBay. That’s about it. Unless your feet are dwarf or giant sized, don’t expect all the usual NB sources to carry this. You wanna know why? New Balance discontinued it. Buncha jerks!

Alright, there was still that other road pair I loved, right?

My plan so far has been to wear the WR00s for everything and don’t get me wrong. I love those shoes a lot. I must have around 500 miles on those shoes and should consider replacing them. My problem is that, they are not really ideal for long road runs. I can crank for 10-13 miles in them before the minimal design and impact on the ground gets annoying. I don’t run a ton on the roads at the moment so it’s not a pressing issue, but if I do want to run another road marathon, it would be nice to know I have my preferred shoe available (WR10) which I don’t!

WT(f)110: what is this JAWN?

Let’s talk trails.

I loved the WT110 so much that when I heard they were being discontinued, I did what everyone would’ve done and bought the last 5 pairs in my size from Joe’s New Balance Outlet online. I felt secure in this purchase, knowing that I was set for a while. Well, like all good things, my time has run out. I am down to my last pair.

When I assessed this final pair this morning before going out on trails, I saw that they were frozen solid and peeling away from the sole. I’m not at all bashing NB quality, I beat those shoes up! They have lasted me for 2 full ultras and 30 miles out of a 50 mile race. They have put in the time and are ready for a long retirement. But New Balance has since killed my dreams at owning this shoe again. They have apparently revamped a version of the 110s that is NOT the version I want. I bought them on a whim (and at a discount) anyway to give them a try. This is what came in the mail:

On first try on I thought they were snug. That is apparently the fit they are going for. I took them on a 10 mile run with 4 climbs (~3000ft elevation change), and was outright angry. The narrow toebox was like a knife on my feet for every descent. I stopped and untied them and tried that. I even took them off for a bit just for some relief. It was unbearable! The new WT110 is just not the same and not for me. So what is the solution?

TOPO Athletic: A charming white knight… with weak ankles.

I have been transitioning to a new shoe for longer road runs and now for trails and have found a (temporary?) solution.

Topo Athletic, with a corporate location ~2 miles from my house in Newton, MA, is a new player to the running/trail shoe game. The CEO Tony Post (To-Po, get it?) was the big man at Vibram for 11 years before deciding to work on perfecting the running shoe, by putting those strong soles onto a shoe with a wide toebox. Voila! Topo shoes present just that model. It’s simple, it’s minimal, and it’s effective.

My first Topo shoes were the Runventure trail shoes, courtesy of Ryan. I’ve talked about them before so I won’t go back into it, but I’ve also enjoyed running in the MT2 trail shoes and the Tribute road shoes. I have a few concerns but they are mostly user error as far as I can tell.

I love the Runventures, but goddamn if playing competitive soccer for so many years has left my ankles without much left in them. Even though the Runventure stack is low/medium, compared to my glorious favorite 110s it feels high, so high and I keep turning my ankles even more! It’s a small price overall, because the wide toebox is clutch and for longer races when my feet swell it provides room to accommodate that. Furthermore, there is a bit more padding than in the 110s and the stack is higher mostly because of the rock plate. I love the shoes, I just need more practice in then and maybe to keep my eyes glued to the ground for rocks more.

So now what?

I don’t know really, but I’m not the world’s richest mediocre ultra-runner so I can’t just go buy shoes and try everything on all the time. I’m pretty disappointed with the new 110s and that now I just have this muddy pair of 110s lying around in my shoe pile.

I’m open to suggestions and have been curious about Altra, since I know they have a similar feel and form to Topo. I also might invest in the new WT10s but they were recently revamped as well and I will be damned if I pay over $80 for a new shoe that I don’t have a full 100% confidence in. Oh well, I don’t really have a strong conclusion to this post so I think I will just end with a photo of Jeremy and I after a run and this poem about shoes:

There once was a runner named Tess,

Whose love for some shoes she’ll profess,

But when her 110’s were a no-go,

She opted for Topo,

And now her ankles convalesce.

Like a trail running Cinderella, I await the glass slipper.