Wolfeboro 4-mile mudfest Sunday, April 18

Primed by two days of rain prior to the start, today's 'Muddy Moose' trail race in Wolfeboro certainly lived up to its name. This was easily the muddiest, messiest race I have run so far in New Hampshire: mud bath after mud bath along a network of poorly drained logging roads and trails behind Kingswood Regional High School.

The full course was an unthinkable (for me) 14 miles; I went with the 4-mile version and finished in a slow 52:15, which actually isn't bad considering what we had to slog through. Mud everywhere! It's the only race I've been to where runners are given plastic bags specifically to isolate their mud-chocked footwear after finishing. (Stupidly, I only brought one pair of shoes, which I kept on for the drive home. See cell phone photo below.)

Before anything else, I need to say that I just checked the results online and was surprised to see the last place finisher in today's 14-mile race was Rielle Hunter, 42, of Cary, N.C., otherwise known as the woman who had an affair and a child with one-time presidential hopeful John Edwards. Wow, you never know who's going to turn up at these things, but up until now the biggest name I ever shared a race with was former U.S. Congressman Jeb Bradley. Update: On Monday, April 19, I heard from race director Fergus Cullen that the alleged participation of John Edwards' mistress was what we in the news business refer to as a "hoe-ax." Seems it's tradition for bogus names to appear on the rosters of some races, sometimes as a cover for an elite runner who's slacked off a bit. (In that case, it's often the name of a Yankees player, Fergus said.)

The race itself was a masterpiece of masochism, with mud and boggy terrain almost constant once we got into the woods. My biggest fear was turning an ankle, which I am prone to do on trails, and so had sworn off such races until this one, as I wanted to do Wolfeboro as Town 108. It took a lot of concentration, jumping into and out of mud pits, but I managed to finish without major damage. Not everyone was as fortunate: at least a few folks were hobbling pretty badly in the parking lot afterwards.

The big news was, yes, the mud. At the first few mudbath encounters, the group I was in would slow down and everyone would gingerly pick his or her way along either side of the muck, trying to keep the splattering to a minimum. But the terrain was hard to read (leaves covering deep wells of cold liquid goo), and so before long you couldn't help but have one shoe sink completely into the ooze, and then the other, and before you knew it everyone was pretty much covered with mud from the knee down. Once we stopped worrying so much, it was more fun, but still quite a slog.

This is the only race I can remember when I came close to killing several people. Really. On a long uphill leading to the half-way point, in order to get around a particularly nasty bog, I gripped a stout tree trunk and did that little "swing out and over and get around it" move. But the tree was dead and so rotten that it immediately gave way and began falling across the trail. I glanced up and to my alarm saw that the tree was tall and coming down very fast. Two people right behind me saw it, and stopped for a moment, letting it fall in front of them; they also had the presence of mind to shout "HEADS UP!" to a woman in front of us. Fortunately, the tree fell just behind her. One step off, and it would have clobbered her.

On the way back to the finish, I finally figured out how to run in mud. Rather than slow down and triangulate and look for little "islands" to step on (such as rocks, or branches or dry patches) as you go, you instead look for the smoothest, least wet patch of mud and just run straight through, giving it a little extra push just before you hit it. And what happens, usually, is that your foot goes right into the mud, yes, but because you're moving forward, there's only time enough for the mud to push away from your shoe. By the time the water and muck moves back into the hole you've made, your foot is gone, which allows you to get through it without (literally) bogging down.

A light step and slightly faster pace seems to be the trick. Of course, the downside is that you really are running right through the mud, and if you hit something wrong, you go sliding off balance and can wind up with a mud facial. I didn't see that today, but I did see a few folks who bore evidence of close encounters with the mud on most other parts of their bodies.

Here's the map...

...with all the New Hampshire communities in which I've run a road race highlighted with orange marker. Right now I'm up to 107 out of a total of 234 in the Granite State.



I've posted an alphabetical list of all the places I've run, so you can check that out if you want. As time permits, I'll populate it with race info, including date, finishing time, notes about the weather, and personal observations, all of which I wrote on the running bib immediately after finishing each race. (Except for one race where runners were identified by holding numbered Popsicle sticks!) It'll take awhile, as some of this stuff goes back to 2001.

Next up is Wolfeboro, N.H., where there's a trail race on Sunday, April 18. It's 14 miles through the mud, but thankfully there's a four-mile option which is a little more my style right now. Overall goals this season are to complete the legendarily murderous 10-mile slog from Wilton to the top of Pack Monadnock in early June, run the Dixville Notch/Colebrook half-marathon in September, and add maybe a dozen towns to this list. Maybe more!

See you on the road!

5-miler in Bethlehem on Saturday, April 10

Up to Bethlehem today, above the White Mountains (and about a 90-minute drive from my home) for an up-and-down five-mile race in Town No. 107. Weather deteriorated as I went north; by the time I hit Franconia Notch, snow was flying from a low overcast and temps had sunk to the mid-30s. Snow had changed to sleet or small hail by the 11 a.m. start. Overcast the whole time, some wind, but no really tough hills. Just a long steady slog.

Something about the five-mile length seems very satisfying to me. Longer than the 5K but not a full 10K (some of which can drag on forever), the five-miler always seems to go by quickly and painlessly. My theory is that with a five-mile race, there's enough time (nearly an hour at my pace) to really settle in, and so you just run and not focused on the splits or other milestones as the race progresses. You just keep going, and the miles really do fall away, which is what happened today.

Surprised by a 51:32 finish, or about a 10:19 minute mile. (67 out of 99 men in the race.) Guess all the time on the elliptical trainer this winter (as opposed to actually road time, which has been practically non-existent) has helped get me to a level I didn't expect to be.

The race also touched on Sugar Hill, a neighboring town, but I can't in good conscience include it as a second town because we just crossed the border and maybe 100 feet later came back. So no double this time.

But in terms of the map, Bethlehem is quite a catch. It's a large town that stretches across the northern limit of the White Mountains, and so was very satisfying to color in with the orange marker. Here's the map before Bethlehem, with orange indicating town's I've run races in:

And here it is after:

5K in Dover on Saturday, April 3

First race of the 2010 season was a surprisingly good one: finished in 30:07, a lot faster than I expected. I've hit the gym pretty consistently all winter (spending a lot of time on an elliptical trainer), but haven't had a lot of road time recently, so thought I'd be somewhere in the 35-minute range for the "Helping Children Hear 5K Run/Walk" in Dover, N.H.

So, with that in mind, I started at the back. But the weather was cool and the course was kind, and I felt good enough to push myself a little. What happened was after the first mile, I found myself sandwiched between an energetic power-walker and a much older gentleman, and I thought as bad as I am, I should be able to push ahead of both of these worthy competitors. We were on a slight downhill, and so I let the brakes off and pulled away, and it stuck. I kept up the pace, passing a few others, and felt strong all the way to the finish.

I have to check to see what "number" this race is: probably about 109. But even so, it held a few firsts for me:

• It was the first time I'd ever heard a pre-race talk that included warning runners about the speed bumps. It sounded funny at first, but this was serious: big humps on the access road to Portsmouth Christian Academy (where the race started and ended) could trip up people in the opening pack and also sprinting to the finish.

• It was the first time I saw a mid-race baby change, which happened shortly after the start. The kid was being pushed in a stroller by mom, and when the squalling started, both parents pulled over to the side of the road and commenced a well-organized maneuver worthy of any pit crew, drawing applause from many passing runners.

• And for the first time ever, I saw a guy lose his breakfast in mid-race. Usually if this happens, the person runs into the woods for cover or something, but this poor guy right in front of me just bent over and there it went. A friend was there with him and everything seemed under control, so I didn't stop, which would have only increased his embarrassment, I think.

• Mid-race entertainment: Guy playing bagpipes in driveway. My witty passing comment to his wife: "Hey, I thought you got bagpipes when you die."

And yes, to my surprise, when the timer at the finish line came into view, it had yet to reach 30:00! So I poured it on, and though wasn't able to beat the half-hour mark, it was a surprisingly fast time and a good start for what I hope will be a fun season of collecting more towns on the way to running in all 234 in New Hampshire.