Google Translate made it sound like the Country Bears Jamboree were going to be there providing the soundtrack. It was the first a la carte running race I’ve done since May, and it’s sort of amazing how quick and easy it is when you only need your shoes. In my continued collection of sport club races within 25 miles, yesterday found us in Schopp for what was promised to be 10k through the forest.
There is a distinct possibility that while I will probably escape being a stage mom, will certainly escape being a pageant mom, I might have a little bit of latent “race mom” in me. Which is to say, Frankie very nearly got entered in the kinder race, yesterday.
"It’s only 400m! She could totally do that!"
Maybe when she’s two. We practiced next to the course anyway, just to see.
Pretty good-looking stride, I’d say.
The kinder races were about the most adorable way to pass the time until the start. We clapped and clapped, laughed as the kids started out with great gusto, and flagged a little on the back half, while their “pacers” cheered and ran next to them.
It’s entirely possible that losing-of-steam was a harbinger of what was to befall me.
"I don’t want to tell you what I just found out about the course."
"It’s…up. They said three miles." Said Ryan, the veteran scout, gear manager, and ace photog.
"Is it too late to take up stick-walking?"
"That might be us by the end, anyway."
Because we certainly didn’t start at the front, nor did we see any of those guys again.
"Us and we" you say?
After a year and a half of trading foursquare check-ins and tweets, going to a lot of the same places and never crossing paths, @leibinet and I met to run together!
He got a crash course in looking for Ryan’s camera and smiling.
I’ve only run a race with someone once before, and it was a billion years ago. Plus, with some untold hills ahead of us, pacing could have proven tricky. I had bread crumbs in my pocket in case he had to leave me alone in the woods, having long lost sight of every other runner, as is my usual course of action.
We left the stadium and went up, up, and around, deep into the surrounding trails. Every time I’d start to think we must surely be at the top, I’d check to my left. Trees on higher ground? Not done. Nothing but sky? There better not be a ladder up there.
It wasn’t straight up, but a multitude of rolling hills that surely defied physics — how could there STILL be more up, when we were supposed to end up DOWN? But throughout we kept a pretty respectable pace — faster than if I’d been alone, it’s hard to push yourself when you don’t know what’s ahead to expect — and reasonable enough to chat when the hills allowed.
It went by quicker than races usually do, and though I wish I had a shot of the gorgeous mist-entwined woods down the precipice to our left, we had a finish line to check in to.
As we ran, his watch beeped off the kilometers, and mine the miles — it was a regular United Nations of robotic units of measurement.
Tamagotchi says 621 feet elevation gain, which I will convert into metric so you can get a more accurate picture — we climbed 18,928 cm, including a very rude incline right at the end.
Oof. But we finished much better than I expected given that Germans hide hills in their “woodens” — if I’d been alone, I have no doubt I would have been at least five minutes slower. Pushing yourself in a vacuum is hard.
I think the kids finished a fair sight stronger in their races than me.
The race itself was pretty flawless. Started bang on time, easy registration, medals for everyone, and the results were live the first inkling I had to check.
And leibinet lives on the internet AND in real life now — and that’s a pretty good end.