Race Report: Barr Trail Mountain Race

Spoiler alert. I finished this race and my first thought was "I crushed that." Since that thought rarely occurs to me, it is worth sharing immediately. I may have been high on endorphins.

Barr Trail Mountain is a race I've done once before, but have completed the course on many, many times, in many, many configurations.

Race morning, I woke up to thunder. I had my eggs, granola, coffee (which I have learned this year is absolutely necessary pre-long run) and headed out with sun screen, body glide, hat, emergency thermal blanket, trail food and water... everything you might need for a summer run in the mountains. I parked in the economy parking and found my friend and fellow Achilles Guide Phil walking by just as I was setting out, so we hiked over to the shuttle buses together and rode to the start line. Have I mentioned it is really fun to have friends at races?

I beat the rush to the porta-potties and got my essential

business done, which was bound to make the race more comfortable. I then hung out under a tree for a while as the skies opened up, a rainbow emerged over the race course and it thundered down the canyon. The rain petered out and I took one more shot at the pots, then headed for the start line. 

At the "three, two, one, GO," the skies opened up again and it rained on us as we started trotting uphill. The first half mile of the course is a gut check up the canyon, where the steepness requires more power hiking than running. This is also where the Incline Club runs every Thursday night and so I know exactly where I can run and where I have to hike, and I stayed to that plan. Once we made the bend in the course over to Barr Trail proper, I had more power hiking than I anticipated because the conga line of other runners was pretty intense, and not worth trying to pass on the single track. However, I knew I was making pretty good time, running when I could and where I knew I could in those first couple of miles.

The new challenge to this course is the presence of a huge boulder that fell in March. Its about the size of a shed, and is firmly lodged against a boulder the size of a sheep, blocking the trail. To get around, you have to balance yourself on the sheep and shimmy around the shed, which is doable but requires just one person at a time. That slowed the course and resulted in a four minute or so backup before I could do the sheep shimmy and carry on. Regardless, I hit the first check point with 15 minutes to spare - 7 minutes faster than the last time I completed the race. 

The cool temps helped and I continued up the course, feeling the burn of the uphill but not in an unmanageable or totally exhausting way. I had 20 minutes to spare at the second check point before the cutoff, at which time I started thinking about when I could actually make it to Barr Camp, the turnaround point. I had done the race course the previous weekend and knew I was feeling as good as then, but maybe I could get a little faster?

From this point, the trail continues up, but is mostly less steep than the first three miles. There are runnable sections, including long stretches of nearly flat trail, and sloping trail that felt more manageable than weeks past. I started passing people and just below "lightning point," ran into my tree-hugging Incline Club friend, who had come out to cheer people on but had gotten a little cold in the wind and rain. Did I mention it had continued to rain on and off? I high-fived Bryan and continued on my way. 

The last mile before Barr Camp gets more rugged, and while I was making good time, I saw myself slowing. I got to Camp faster than usual, but didn't hit the times that I thought I could maybe eek out a couple miles earlier. I turned, got some cheers from the aid station, and headed back down the mountain. 

My mantra of late, since the most recent "incident," has been "concentrate and pick your feet up." The fall scared me a bit, and I've been going slower on the downhill - so much so that I intentionally got out on the race course earlier in the week to practice running the downhill to try to get my brain in shape for the race. Starting back down from Barr Camp, I was trying to keep a steady pace and not slow down too much, although there are sections that are quite rugged and require some maneuvering around rocks.

At some point, I picked up two other runners and we kept trading places. I would pass them on the uphills (yes, there are uphills to the downhill run, because of  course there are), and then they'd pass me on the downhills. They were nice enough about it all though, and even cracked a couple of Forrest Gump jokes. The whole thing could have been super annoying, but it wasn't. Thank you endorphins.

It also hailed on us. Thank goodness for hats. Then it rained on and off the rest of the way down.

Weather aside, I was feeling pretty good and concentrating hard on the run. Once I got down below No Name Creek, I started to push. I took the switchbacks at speed and chomped up some Honey Stinger waffles. I felt my stomach want to turn a little funky and cut that off by keeping my water intake flowing. 

I started to feel good. So I pushed, racing the downhill as fast as if I'd never left skin on the gravel. 

Just below the boulder I passed those other runners again, this time for the last time. I stayed ahead of them the rest of the race, accelerating the last couple of miles. I exited the trail and felt myself slapping the final downhill pavement hard. At the bottom of the hill you take a hard left and go straight up Hydro Hill to the Barr Trailhead parking lot, a 24% grade final challenge to end the race. Again, the Incline Club practices this uphill will repeats, and I only had to do it once on race day. I charged up that hill. I'm sure I wasn't going as fast as the lady cheering me on said I was, but it felt like I was moving.

I finished that race 24 minutes faster than I was expecting.

Crushed it.