Today, I ran my very first Pilot hill 25km race in Laramie, a race known for being the oldest foot race in Wyoming. To quote my current status, I have lost my Pilot Hill virginity. However, Pilot Hill, or as Alec and Kathy have dubbed it, Pirate Hill was not the kind, gentle lover you would hope for, especially for a first time. In fact, I will go so far to say that, in true pirate form, it raped and pillaged my village.
Pilot Hill is a 25k (~15.5ish mile) race that occurs just east of Laramie. It involves running up the hill for which it is named after and back down, which ends up being approximately 1500 feet of elevation change in just one direction. Lots of single track or 4-wheeler trails, with very pretty rocky sections.
It was a very nice day overall. It didn't start really getting too warm until the end of the return trip down the mountain. The race started at 8am this morning with about 42 people toeing the line. It was a good day for running with little to no wind blowing. I had to laugh before the start looking at everyone... There i was with a big backpack with my camelbak in it, and when I looked around, most people were carrying single water bottles or nothing at all. I guess I've forgotten how to do some of these "shorter" races, huh? haha. We started off, and I spent the first two or so miles running with Brandon. Even though we were going my pace, I could definately tell that I was and was going to pay for the lack of running that has been occurring in recent months. Right out from the gates, I was feeling tired and a mite strained. Eventually, Brandon broke off and started to run his own race, while I stayed in the back and trudged along.
Things were going fairly smoothly as I alternated between running as much as I could and walking. I reached aid station 2 to find Ted and Johnna working. it was amazing how even just by that point in the race, you could see a prominant altitude difference from where we started. It certainly didn't feel like that much of a change. We hung out and talked a bit, and just as I was getting moving, the first pack of runners were coming in crazy-fast. It had only been an hour and twenty, and they were already done with most of the race. As they flew into the finish. I started my long haul up the hill, where most of the climbing and descending would take place.
In true Tom form, the longer the race went, the stronger I felt. I was running up more and more hills and resting less. Unfortunately, my right hip and left knee were taking major poundings and were making sure I was aware of their opinion of this whole adventure. Near the top, I started to notice my major issue of the race, consisting of my right calf tightening up and trying to cramp every time I tried running. It wasn't too bad during the ascent, and this being the first time I've ever had cramping problems while running, I wasn't overly concerned. I reached the top to find Alec, Kathy, and another runner named Mary. It was a great view from the top of the mountain looking back down on Laramie. That was the perfect vantage point to see exactly how far we had climbed. After chatting with alec and Kathy for a bit, it was time to start working my way back to the start. Unfortunately, things started to fall apart nearly immediately. My calf began seriously cramping to the point where I was limited to a walk. It was frustrating as the descents are usually where I'm at my best and can make up lots of time, but I couldn't do anything. I gingerly plodded down the hill, occassionally increasing my pace to a run for a short period before the cramps stopped me.
I made it back down to the bottom of the hill to Ted's and Johnna's aid station. I hung out there a bit again trying to stretch out, and Ted fortunately had some electrolytes (for those unfamiliar with it, think of them as anti-cramp crap). I downed an entire bag, and tried to get moving again. Eventually, the cramps stopped, and I was left with new problems: exhaustion and very sore feet from my rock-hard insoles. When the cramps weren't stopping me, my feet were. I walked for a long period before I started strong-arming myself into running to the next flag, then walking to the next flag after that, though even that wore me back down to the point of only walking.
Finally, after 4 hours, 14 minutes, 26 seconds, and forcing myself to run the last half mile to a mile, I finally made it into the finish. Overall, it was a neat race with some very pretty views, but it was a monster. I am definately feeling pretty beaten down. I'm sure it's a race I will do again though, with any luck with more training under my belt. Hopefully, if I take the next couple of weeks pretty easy, this won't effect my 30k very much.
Next adventure: Big Horn 30k in 3 weeks!
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