(published with permission of the author)
by Joey “is this a delusion” Rollins
So, it’s the summer of 2015 and my running buddy, Malin Barton, says to me “Check out this race Joey, I think it would be fun”. I now know when Marlin Barton say’s “This will be fun”, what she really means is “This will probably kill us”.
The third edition of the SRT Run/Hike took place September 16-17, 2016 with 102 starters across all divisions, up from 82 the year before. A remarkable 92% of starters successfully completed the course this year — a surprising statistic for a minimalist format event which provides little or no aid or course markings. Excluding the dauntingly difficult 70-mile division, the success rate for the other divisions was almost 97%. Besides the inevitable scrapes and bruises, there were no injuries during the event, and no-one got lost. The runners deserve credit for showing up prepared to navigate on their own and manage their hydration and nutritional needs — exactly the spirit of mindfulness and self-reliance we sought to promote in creating this event. And perhaps it’s the case that the magical beauty of the Shawangunk Mountains imparts extra energy to those who move through the wilderness…
Saturday, April 23, 2016, I was running with friends in the Sam’s Point section of Minnewaska State Park, descending from High Point toward the Verkeerderkill Falls, when we spotted a distant plume of smoke. We paused and watched as the smoke billowed up from a small patch of ground and then caught the wind, blowing away to the south, then shifting back towards us. Was the trail blocked? We couldn’t tell, but thought it best to turn back.
Two days later, what had started as a pin-prick was now threatening 2,000 acres, and Rock The Ridge race director Todd Jennings and I were forced to consider an emergency re-route of the course — with only five days until the start. The problem wasn’t that the flames would threaten the runners, but rather that Minnewaska State Park was closed while the staff worked around the clock with 300 firefighters, rangers, and volunteers to contain the blaze. Hosting a race at the same time didn’t seem possible. But with two days to go, we got word that Minnewaska had approved us to proceed with the original course, even if the park was still closed. And then it rained, and the fire went out. Todd and I salute the staff for protecting thousands of acres of beautiful land and managing hundreds of thousands of visitors each year. It’s an incredibly important job, and there’s nothing easy about it.
Friday April 15, 2016, I was on the train to Boston to attend a conference on Native American Running presented by Harvard’s Peabody Museum in collaboration with the Boston Athletic Association and other sponsors. This topic has interested me since reading a book by Peter Nabokov which described how Indians ran to communicate, fight, and hunt, as well as interact with spiritual forces. I thought the Indians’ experiences might contain clues to human potential which have been forgotten in today’s technology-obsessed world.
I’m glad I went: the speakers talked about the spiritual and community aspects of running — a welcome contrast to the heavy commercialism of the Boston Marathon Expo. It was a special treat to meet Arnulfo Quimare, the Ruramari runner of Born to Run fame who beat American ultrarunner Scott Jurek in a 50-mile race — and surprising to learn that he doesn’t “train” like American runners, but rather developed his running prowess from dancing and walking. He’s happy when running, he stated through a translator, and even happier when he wins.
Out of all the speakers, one comment caught my attention in particular. Chief Oren Lyons is a member of the National Lacrosse Hall of Fame, a distinguished professor of Native American studies at the State University of New York, and a tribal leader in the Onondaga Nation. When asked what advice he gives young Indian athletes, he mentioned a word in the Onondaga dialect, which sounded to me like “jaga.” It meant, he explained,
Try hard — try harder!
— Chief Oren Lyons
After the conference, I returned to my hotel and prepared to participate in my fourth Boston Marathon.
I rolled across the finish line in 3:57, precisely in line with the modest goal of breaking four hours. The year before, my time was just over four hours, as best I could recall, and I distinctly remembered a deep sense of frustration as I struggled to stay on pace. It was nice to see some improvement — especially after a string of races in recent months with disappointing times.
Caumsett is a 50k (31-mile) race that takes place along a 3.1-mile loop in Caumsett State Park on Long Island’s northern shore. It’s a pretty course on a paved path through woods and fields, and the day was sunny, calm, and cool — beautiful conditions for racing. Except for a blister, I had felt good throughout the run, managing to complete it with no fluids or calories. Waiting for the final results, I thought I had a shot at #3 in my age group.
So I was a little surprised when a friend asked, what went wrong?
Continue reading “Caumsett 50K Race Report: Seeking Clarity”
A few weeks ago, I learned to my surprise that a trail race was going to take place at Fort Ord, California . It would be almost exactly thirty years from the day in 1986 when I reported for duty as a young officer with the 7th Infantry Division (light). Upon arrival at Fort Ord, I had briefly marveled at the coastal mountains of northern California and then quickly found myself crossing the beautiful, rugged terrain in runs, on road marches, and during tactical movements, learning a great deal about discipline and physical endurance as a member of the 7th infantry “light fighters.”
A lot had changed in thirty years. After a brief stint in the army, I had moved on to a career in finance. Meanwhile, the Army had deactivated the 7th Infantry Division, and Fort Ord had been transformed into a national park.
I couldn’t resist. In due course, I was registered for The Ordnance 100-kilometer (61-mile) trail race, organized by Inside Trail. It would be a chance to experience once again Fort Ord’s rocky canyons, emerald hills, and sandy trails, as well as reflect on the idea of “going light,” not only as a soldier, but now as a runner.
Driving through Chattanooga a couple years ago, I had glanced up at the long ridge looming above the serpentine coils of the Tennessee River, recalling a decisive Civil War battle had been fought there and wondering what it would be like to stand upon the summit.
When a last-minute conflict scuttled plans for a mid-November race, I stumbled upon the Lookout Mountain 50-miler, which fit neatly into the last open weekend of the year. This time there would be no conflict.
Kathryn Schulz, a writer for the New Yorker, recently asked the question, what do we think about when we run? The question is especially apropos of racing, which is all about execution, and which therefore requires a purposeful mindset and a well-considered plan of attack. Indeed, for a race the more relevant question might be, what do we think about before we run?
As point in case, let’s rewind to Thursday, November 26, 2015. It’s 7:35 AM Central Standard Time, and I’ve just pulled into a parking spot at the Lincoln Park Zoo, with the intention of racing the Turkey Day Run Chicago 5k….
We are incredibly proud to announce the winners of the 2015 Long Path Race Series! We call these winners “Disciples of the Long Brown Path,” in a nod to the memorial plaque for Raymond Torrey, one of the Trail Conference’s founders and an early promoter of both the Appalachian Trail and the Long Path.
Created and maintained by the New York-New Jersey Trail Conference, the Long Path is an incredible 350-mile hiking trail that reaches from New York City to the outskirts of Albany, along the way traversing some of New York’s most beautiful natural parks and preserves, including the New Jersey Palisades, Harriman State Park, Schunemunk Mountain, the Shawangunk Mountains, the Catskills, and the Helderberg Escarpment.
Continue reading “Long Path Race Series: Announcing 2015 Disciples of the Long Brown Path”
On Sunday, November 1, I completed the 2015 TCS New York City Marathon, my 68th race of marathon or ultra-marathon distance.
I headed into this race with limited training. Back in August, I completed the Beast of Burden 100-mile ultramarathon in bad shape, having unwittingly strained my hip adducters, and it took three or four weeks to recover. As this injury gradually healed, I developed a stress reaction in my left foot from barefoot running. On any given day, it seemed that if one injury felt better, the other was worse. I backed off, and both injuries healed, but September and October were lost to serious training. My running log showed no long runs since July, no quarter-mile splits since June, no Yasso splits since early May, and I couldn’t even remember the last time I had run on pavement.
The Long Brown Path 