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| ABF Class of 2017! (I'm in the back) |
Last weekend I had the opportunity to travel up to the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas to run the storied Athens Big Fork trail marathon, a low-key but grueling event that involves climbing 8 mountains TWICE over the 26 mile course. As I am wont to do I signed up on the spur of the moment - not really understanding exactly what I was getting myself into.
The
race website is pretty clear about the fact that this race is anything but a walk in the park. It's typically held in January when icy winds and freezing water crossings are a pressing concern; but this year, due to some weather complications in January, it was moved back to April. I considered myself fortunate to have had a chance to enjoy the springtime running of this race when the forest was coming to life and warmer spring winds made for a pleasant, albeit a little warm, day out among the Arkansas pines.
Despite having done a little reading about the course in advance, I found the mountains to be much more steep and technical than I anticipated. The first and last 2 1/2 miles of the course are on roads so the climbing and descending are compressed into around 21 miles. My Garmin registered around 7,500' of climbing but I am not sure I trust my watch -
other reports have the climbing at over 9,000'. Regardless of the final total, it's a LOT of up and down.
Between the mountains there were stretches of trail that ran through the valleys that I found to be very runnable. In addition, there were about 4 or 5 stream crossings (each way) that made for a refreshing break for tired feet - the water was cool and it felt fantastic, especially on the way back when the temperature began to approach 80 degrees.
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| Running through one of the valleys... |
For the most part, my trip for the outbound 13-ish miles was pleasant and uneventful. I found the climbs to be challenging but not overwhelming. I broke out my new Black Diamond trekking poles (I'm sure I will get plenty of use out of these this summer) and got to work. The only excitement heading outbound came in the form of a pretty spectacular fall I sustained while descending a technical stretch of single track. It came on the backside of the 6th mountain at around mile 11 when, for a brief moment, I lost my focus and jammed my foot against a small rock outcropping. I fell head over heels, skidding over limestone and coming to rest in a briar patch. I guess it pays to keep your eyes on the trail, especially when running downhill! After picking myself up and dusting myself off, I limped on for a while until I felt like I could run again. I made it to the turnaround point in around 2:40, surveyed my cuts and bruises, and began the trek back.
The trip back to Big Fork was considerably more difficult for me. It seemed that every climb was steeper, longer, and more technical as the day drew on. The meat grinder that you go through on the way out becomes a pounding on the way back, and since I was still in pretty rough shape from my fall it was tough for me to get any rhythm on the downhills. So, needless to say, I did a lot of hiking on the way back. To make matters worse, I got off course a few times and ended up with almost 29 miles on the day (I would say the course markings are adequate but can be missed if not paying attention). It was slow going to be sure. I was glad to reach the last aid station knowing I only had 4 miles to go - which would include just 1 more mountain to climb before I reached the roads again.
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| Views from the top. |
The last climb was relatively easy compared to the others, and before I knew it I was back out on the roads. I knew I would make good time when I was back in my element, and sure enough, I was able to quickly accelerate and make up some ground. I was eager to finish and hurried along, finishing (finally) in 6 hours and 40 minutes. In the spirit of this race, there were 2 guys standing at the finish line - my cheering section - who sort of applauded and reminded me to sign out. I found this to be quite funny at the moment, and despite the fact that I was dehydrated, sore, exhausted, and hungry, I could not help but laugh at the absurdity of it.
After the race I commiserated with some of the other finishers at the community center. Many of us struggled to the finish as the warm temperatures caught many runners off guard. But, we made it. Inside the community center there were crockpots full of casseroles and trays of homemade pastries courtesy of some of the locals who came out to take care of us. Since my stomach was still a little sideways from the tough day, I passed on the chicken gumbo and the chili, but took note of their hospitality and thanked them all profusely.
In my opinion, this is a "must-do" race. Since it is usually in January I am sure the normal conditions are very different from what I experienced, but I have no doubt it is every bit as difficult (if not more so) in winter. It has everything in a trail race that you want - technical single track, challenging climbs, remote wilderness - and there are even fully stocked aid stations manned by eager and helpful volunteers - which is really cool, considering the race is free! I can't say enough about how "chill" the vibe of this race is. It's one of the things that drew me in to trail running in the first place and keeps me coming back.
Epilogue
That race blew me up. Looking back now, a few days after the event, I am still glad I went, but I have basically lost this week of training and will probably take several more days to fully recover. As a result I have modified my training plan - there will be no more training races. I had planned on running a 50-miler later this month in the Texas Hill Country, but I have scratched that off the list. The risk of injury and the time needed to recover again outweigh any training benefit I might receive. I will have the opportunity to do some pacing at the difficult Cruel Jewel 100 in Georgia next month, but that will be it. My goal now is to get strong again and resume a full training load before tapering in early June.
