Arcata Forest 5.5 Mile Race Report

Race morning dawned, tranquil and refreshing, as I sipped my morning coffee. I packed the remaining supplies at home: finish line cookies, my running clothes for sweeping the course, and a bottle of water. After a quick stop at the shed to gather race equipment, Paul and I quietly set up tents and the registration table. Dressed in my cute boots and flannel, poised for a morning of volunteering and spectating, I had no intention of racing. As runners and more volunteers began to filter in, I noticed that my help wasn't truly necessary.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.

Then Tanya asked if I was going to race. I said I didn't want to fall down and hurt myself a week before Boston. "You don't have to race. Just run it for the experience, the energy--you don't have to go all out," she went on. After confirming with Matt, the race director, that I wasn't needed and he didn't want to run ten miles with me later in the day, I made my decision. While Matt signed me in and grabbed me a bib number, I dashed off to the bathroom to change. Without a real warmup, jitters, or a pair of running socks, I found myself toeing the line unsure what was going to happen. After spending the morning telling people that I wasn't going to race, they all laughed at me a little bit. "I knew you couldn't stay away," Nikki said as she squeezed in next to me.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.

In a swirling cloud of neon fabrics, we were off. As if the first climb wasn't brutal enough on its own, rising almost 400 ft. in the first mile, it was almost torturous without a warmup. Without needing much convincing, I slowed down to lower the effort level. Sometimes this meant a walk. Soon I found myself side by side with Karl, a tall lanky runner whose walking stride was actually quicker than my uphill running one. I followed along, keeping pace with him for the better part of two miles.

Mile 1: 10:02

Just as I truly believed my legs were going to collapse beneath me, the climbing ceased and I rocketed downhill. Finally. A chance to get that warmup. One thing that convinced me to run the race this morning was the course. For every brutally steep climb, a delicious downhill singletrack awaits. It's like climbing the stairs on a playground slide and then a gentle cruise down--over and over again. I smiled as I floated around small redwood trees and into a ravine.

Mile 2, on an earlier visit with Matt and Jorge

Mile 2: 8:27

Mile 3 was entirely uphill but it climbed gently enough that I don't allow myself to walk. Atop the hill I could see Gayle in her bright yellow cycling jacket. She's got the water, you can walk when you get your cup of water, I coached myself. I thanked her for the water and motivation and kicked off downhill again. Except for Karl, who was about 20 seconds ahead, I was running in a bubble of loneliness with nobody else in sight.

Mile 3: 10:17

I'd finally caught up to Karl and a few other runners. Finally! I was overjoyed to have someone else to hang out with me. After all, that's a big part of the reason I was running this race in the first place. The course steeply rises and falls as it weaves through the forest. Even though this park is overly used and a worn out version of what most redwood forests look like, it has some healthier sections that are beautiful.

I grabbed a cup of water from Bob and he asked if I was hungry for more hills. He's my racing buddy for most distances but always chooses to volunteer at this race, probably so he can sit there, smug with his calm, resting heart rate, teasing runners just before the worst hill of the course. I turn the corner and there it is: a steep wall of dirt that rises so swiftly into the trees that I can't see much beyond the next 100 ft. ahead of me. Even though I know it's coming, it always makes me groan just a little bit.

See that little steep spot before mile 4? 120' gain in less than 0.15 mi.

Everyone up ahead on the hill was walking through the loose pebbly gravel. I broke into my best power walk and began closing the gap. Up ahead was Nicolette. She'd been just out of reach for the past couple of miles, so I made it my mission to stay with her. It has started raining, but it was only noticeable passing through breaks in the forest canopy.

Mile 4: 10:08

Mile 4, again with Matt and Jorge.

The cone signaling the 4th mile is always my favorite. From here, it's almost all downhill. Time to shred the legs. Excitedly, I felt my pace increase, my stride lengthen, and my quads wincing slightly in discomfort. Every footfall, I reminded myself that Boston is just one week away. It's not worth falling to try and catch anyone. I ease up a little, just enough to maintain my footing at a hard effort. I could use some more downhill running practice in my life because slowing feels awkward and uncomfortable.

Mile 5: 7:43

One more dash through a lower ravine, a short uphill and it's back to the playground. Knowing I'm in the last half mile, I pass three guys in my acceleration to the end. Back on solid footing of the access road, I break into a kick. I gain ground quickly on Nicolette until she realized I'm behind. Jack, Paul, and Matt cheer from the finish line, these guys love a good duel for the end. The last fifty feet into the chute were downhill and I got close enough to be running right on her shoulder, but the finish line came too soon and she finished ahead of me. Oh well.

Mile 5-5.5: 3:59

Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.

49:37
8:57/mi.
1,006 ft. gain

After the race, I shifted right back into volunteer mode, helping Matt with award and keeping the cookie supply up. Since I know a few of my running friends have sensitive stomachs, I even made a batch of gluten-free cookies. I always get a lot of compliments on my finish line cookies and the club regulars have come to know that Matt's and my race always have homemade cookies. :)

Top runners received the following as an award this year. This gave me a little practice for the finisher awards I'm making for my race. It will be a lot of work, but I think it's worth it. They're pretty.

After the race, I headed out to pick up the flags and cones from the trail. A man out walking his dog said as he passed, "So YOU'RE the one with all the flags."

"What makes you say that?"