TheGOTbike got off his bike

photo: Jason Sarouhan

It is true.  I've showered with my bike (best way to rinse road salt while living in a college dorm) and even spent a night curled up in a kid's bike trailer to sleep (it was that or the public bathroom floor, or risk hypothermia in December's cold northern California rain), but I've since managed to branch out from incorporating a bicycle into every aspect of my life.  In recent years, one limb of this tree is trail running.  Trail running, at its core, is an activity that involves more likelihood of me crashing versus mountain biking, but with far less protective equipment.  It seems I trip a lot, mostly uphill, which happily results in much lower speed impacts.  It is also quite fun, blending the natural human pursuit of running, with the equally natural woods.  Although, yes, I do wear shoes.

Trail runners, like mountain bikers, also hold races, and one of the premier events in New England, possibly the country, is the Seven Sister trail run along the spiny ridge of the Holyoke Range.  The starting line happens to lie about five miles from my house, so in 2018 while I was building that house, I volunteered to help on race day as a way to connect with the local running community.  Traditionally, mountain bike racers were considered the more mild-mannered cousins of road bike racers, but trail runners, they make my beloved MTB community seem like a bunch of high-strung jerks by comparison.  These runners are unbelievably nice, warm, and welcoming.  A year later, before the 2019 Seven Sisters event, a friend was struggling with back issues, so he offered me his slot on the starting line.  With a year of off-and-on running plus a concerted effort of five runs in the four weeks leading up to the race, I managed to surprise more than a couple people when my wool shirt and I crossed the finish line in fifth place overall, thirteen seconds behind endurance legend Brian Rusiecki, also the winner of my 40-49 age category.

Then a global pandemic happened.  For two years, race promoter Amy Rusiecki (yes, all great trail runners adopt the Rusiecki surname) was forced to postpone and ultimately cancel the event, but as we transition to endemic Covid in 2022, the racers once again trod the twelve mile out and back course this past Saturday in near perfect running conditions.  Now, I use the term "running" merely as convention in describing this event.  With few exceptions, this race is more truly a really fast hike, punctuated by free-fall off rocky ledges.  It is rugged to the same degree that Hitler is considered an example of a bad person.  With my return to mountain bike racing I'd been laying off running for a few weeks to have my legs in the best shape for riding, so this time, my registration was again as a volunteer only, with an intention to run the route after the racers started, but when I checked with Amy to make sure I wouldn't be a nuisance with that plan, she suggested I instead use an unclaimed bib number and get racing!

Three years ago, I'd been focused on this race, prepping for it as best I could with my limited running experience.  My goal had been to break the two hour mark, something usually achieved by only about three racers each year, and I managed to push that number up to five with a time of 1:56:27 and a high degree of elation at the accomplishment.  For 2022, the field blew this tally off the face of the mountain, with thirteen people dropping below the two hour mark, and while my haphazard surprise race effort saw me only 29 seconds slower than before, this dropped me down to 9th place, while my 2019 time was fast enough only to tie this year's 7th place finisher.  Way to go and hike fast trail runners!

But those are just a lot of numbers and don't really speak to the experience of the day.  Finally, after years of quick waves to Brian Rusiecki as we made our way along the range in opposite directions, I had the chance to run with him for about five minutes of our return trip.  In addition to his legend status as an ultra-distance runner, he's yet another super genial trail runner, and, it turns out, a former road bike racer, so we are planning to head out for a ride together sometime as well.  Also, while finishing ahead of Brian this time did garner me the first prize in the 40-49 age group, I need to acknowledge that is only because of the race policy of no double podium placings.  Forty-three year old local, also similarly new-to-trail-running as myself, Dan Grip made it back to the start/finish line in less than an hour and forty-nine minutes to take second place overall.  Dan and I chatted a bit after the race, and guess what?  Yup, super nice guy.  And, shout out to all the runners who slogged it out over twelve tough miles, yet still managed to cheer on those of us running back toward them while they grappled with their own changes on the course.  Yeah, trail runners, they're great people.

But oh yes, this is a blog about bikes, riding them, and possibly influencing the world in that activity.  So sure, I, of course, rode my bike to the race.  This one was easy, less than half an hour to get up the hill from home.  But here's the super cool thing: I wasn't the only one.  There, nestled into the trees by the start/finish area, while cars by the hundreds crammed into limited parking space, were three bikes including mine, belonging to those of us WHO RODE TO THE RACE!