Susan Donnelly

Wow.  Three days hanging out with my utrarunning tribe challenging ourselves on some gorgeous world-class trails?  3 Days of Syllamo is hard to describe but more than worth a try.

On paper, you run a 50K on Friday, a 50 miler on Saturday, and a 20K on Sunday, all starting at the Blanchard Springs campground on the Sylamore Creek in Arkansas’ Ozark-St. Francis National Forest.  Interesting challenge, right?

Believe me, the packing alone is a challenge.

In reality, you get to share a unique experience you’ll remember with a core group of ultrarunners who stay for all three days.  Like all truly memorable races, this has the perfect mix of fun, camaraderie and trails.  It’s low-key, no hype.  You’re running for the sheer joy of running it and the delight in finding you can do it.  Steve Kirk, the RD, sets the perfect atmosphere.

 

Thursday: The challenge starts early.  We drive in late at night, white knuckled, in 33F rain that has progressively iced the trees along the way further toward the ground (and the road!).  Icicles lace the powerlines.  Looking at the piles of wood from last month’s ice storm lining the road, I’m thankful Steve is able to hold the race at all.

Like last year, we camp at Blanchard Springs, 60 seconds from the start line.  It’s cold.  Really cold.

 

Friday:  9 a.m.  We’re assembled at the starting line.  Steve welcomes us and describes today’s 50K course.  It’s and out-and-back section of the Syllamo Trail.  Today will be the coldest of the three with mid-40s for a high.  The trick today is to budget energy and prevent injury so I can run Saturday and Sunday.  The effect of last weekend’s 50 miles on hard-packed dirt at Old Pueblo is unknown.  All things considered, today should be photo day, a sure way to stay slow and enjoy the scenery.

Good choice.  We pass waterfalls, early wildflowers, scenic overlooks of the creek snaking through the gorge below.  Then…sigh…we have to run an unfortunate section of forest service dirt road that’s needed to add mileage because there’s not enough trail cleared yet from the ice storm.  It makes the return to the trail that much sweeter.

At the end, we shower and return to the picnic shelter for warm pasta, bread, and beer from one of the race sponsors, New Belgium Brewery.  I should really soak my legs in the creek near the campsite but it’s dark and way too cold to contemplate.  Sleep instead.

 

Saturday:  It’s an early start today, barely light enough to run without a headlamp.  Steve announces the course is two separate out-and-backs.  The first has a real water crossing (waist high!) and the second has 20 miles of road (oh no!!!).  With last year’s tight cutoffs firmly in memory, I leave the camera in the car.  No time to waste today.

When the line of runners I’m with arrives at the water crossing, it’s so ridiculous we all start laughing.  It’s about 10 yards wide, numbing cold, and sure enough, waist deep.  We plow through it and stagger up the other bank, not fully appreciating that in a mere .10 mile, we’ll turn around and come back to plow through it on the return.  After the second time through, my legs are definitely numb but refreshed and somehow, they run.

The second out-and-back is (for me) not nearly as fun.  Road, dirt or paved, slows me down like kryptonite.  Twenty miles of it mentally stretches out to infinity.  When my shoes finally touch sweet single track dirt on the return, the sense of relief is like a shot of caffeine.

At today’s finish, my muscles are empty and my feet, knees and hips are all tender.  Too much road in one week.  Steve’s crew has vegetarian red beans and rice waiting – perfect!  We all swap stories while eating.  Tonight there’s no question – 10 minutes in the icy creek before bedtime.  I can’t imagine running tomorrow but I did it somehow last year and it’s many hours away yet.

 

Sunday:  How on earth am I going to do this???  Every muscle and joint is stiff this morning.

If you think about it, the total weekend mileage (93 miles) is slightly less than a 100-miler so it should be easier with all the sleep but in reality, you’re running faster each day than you run a 100-miler.

At the start, Steve announces the course.  We’re doing a simple out-and-back with the ridiculous creek crossing again (yay!) and a little road, complete with historic swinging bridge, added to the end to make it an honest 20K.

I start out slow and sluggish at the back…until we hit the trailhead.  Suddenly, my legs feel new.  Better than the other days.  Heck, better than at Old Pueblo last weekend.  Today is officially play day!

I get stuck behind a long line of people who are walking all the rocky, twisty stuff I’m dying to run.  We cross the creek, run the road, cross the creek again, and a few passes later, I’ve finally carved out clear space ahead and behind.  Finally!  This is what I love in a race – space to play with the course, zoom around trees, dance across rocks, even catch a little air here and there.  It’s the perfect way to thank the course for a great weekend and honor the gift of finding something I love to do.  I’m going to savor it all the way to the finish.

At the finish I even add a little leap, for no one but me.  What a fantastic weekend!  It went so incredibly fast.  I loved spending it here with these people.

One more soak in the creek and it’s time to hop in the car for the 9-hour drive home.

 

In the end: One of the best things about racing, for me, is the shared experience.  Everyone faces the same course and though we may approach it from different perspectives, at the end of the day we get to come together to share, laugh and even commiserate about the day’s stories.  I can’t think of a better example of that than this race.

Posted: Monday, March 16, 2009, 10:08 pm | Tags: Blog | Respond | Trackback