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Woodside Ramble Half Marathon Race Report – Woodside, CA

Woodside Ramble Half Marathon Race Report – Woodside, CA

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There was a time in my life when I signed up for races rather prolifically. It didn’t matter what type of perceived shape I was in or where my fitness was; at the very “worst,” I’d be posting a supported training run, and at the (somewhat miraculous) very “best,” maybe I’d set a new PR in the race distance. These days, I tend to swing the opposite direction — I’m only signing up for races for which I train specifically, more often than not — so it’s with a bit of yuletide jolly that I laughed at myself when I signed up for Inside Trail Racing’s Woodside Ramble half marathon. (I think this is the point in the story where I’ll blame my decision on Meredith, ha).

Like I’ve mentioned before, I couldn’t do CIM, so I thought I’d instead do the Ramble 50k. A prohibitive weekend schedule, for several months, made it clear that trying to race a trail 50k (and properly training for it) would be unwise, so then I thought a 35k would suffice … yadda yadda yadda … so here I was, about a week before the race, hoping for the best with Woodside’s trail half that had a touch over 2k of elevation. I’ve never trained for a half marathon, proper, or a trail race at that, so my “training plan” that I used this fall (mostly with XC in mind) was simply run in ARP as much as possible and accumulate a couple k of climbing each week. I just hoped that’d be enough to ensure that I didn’t die during the Woodside half. 

“training” in one of my fav sections in ARP (PC: Janet)

Meredith, her teammate Sara, and I met up at Woodside race morning and were met with pretty perfect racing temps: low 50s and overcast. The ground was wet but not drenched in mud, and while you moved, the temps were completely comfortable to wear a LS/tank and shorts; standing around, however, felt a little chilly in the absence of pants. Getting into the park, paying the $6 parking fee, and finding bibs was all really easy and straightforward, and after we ran a very abbreviated warm-up (about 1000m, ha), we three lined up in the grassy field starting area and were off. 

I haven’t run in Wunderlich and Huddart Parks since the only other time in my life I was there — for the 50k way back in 2014 — so I was pretty surprised at how much I seemed to remember about the parks, the topography, the layout, everything; maybe running pregnant there seared those memories into my mind. We had a pretty crowded start, particularly in the more narrow, singletrack-esque portions of the course, but within the first 5k, the field thinned out considerably, giving everyone breathing space. When I ran the 50k, I had very specific hiking and running strategies, but for the half, my only thought was run as much as you comfortably can. I was surprised (and admittedly, pretty floored!) to find myself gliding up all the ascents and churning in a lower gear to get up and over, up and over throughout the entirety of the race. 

These parks are so pretty to run in and so different from my usual confines at ARP. While ARP is wide open, without much canopy, and much different topographically, Wunderlich and Huddart are much more covered, with towering redwoods, and much greener in general. (The entirety of Wunderlich and Huddart that I’ve run in remind me of the South Rim switchback area in ARP, very Secret Garden-esque, or like the Enchanted Forest of Nisene Marks). I’m not sure a shit-eating grin ever left my face when I was running, save for the couple times runners in front of me tripped and fell over rocks or downed trees (remarkably, the 3 people I saw go down were all fine and and recovered quickly). Otherwise, I was so happy to be there. I love running fast, and I love running “in nature,” but I rarely do those two at the same time.  

Free and strong cycled on repeat in my head, my three-word mantras for the morning, and maybe except for the last couple miles when I was beginning to feel tired, I felt smooth and strong. I couldn’t help but hear O.A.R.’s “Free” the whole time I was running, a pretty perfect soundtrack to what I was feeling coursing through me throughout the race. Once we hit the single aid station on the course at mile ~6.7 or so, I began to bomb the downhills as much as I could and played a good game of tag with other women HM runners in my immediate vicinity. Seeing a fellow TSFM ambassador Charles on the course twice, serving as a course marshall, was a great pick-me-up, too; there’s always time for mid-race sweaty hugs when we see our friends, right? I felt like I was pulling energy from the beautiful surroundings and the other happy runners around me as much as I was from myself. I was running in a beautiful place with friends, keeping the effort high, and having so much fun in the process.   

It was a perfect way to end a very full year of racing. 

I finished smiling and held back from letting out an embarrassing WHOOOOOOOOO! at the finish line because I was just so, so happy to be there that morning. I wasn’t much interested in gauging my success race morning by what my watch told me; instead, I relied on my internal cues, the indescribable feeling in my gut that told me how the day went. My finish time was better than I thought it’d be — though again, I didn’t have any time goals for the day or even looked at my watch during the race (which, admittedly, would have been off anyway, since GPS cuts out in the park). More importantly, I finished with that satisfied feeling in my chest and my legs, that pleasant burn that’s better than any race day tchotchke, the feeling that we carry with us for the rest of the day that reminds us I just did that wonderful thing. 

Meredith and I talked about how maybe racing at Woodside each year — whatever distance we want that day, given what we may have raced earlier in the month — should be how we end our racing year, a new tradition that we should establish, beginning now. I’m keen to do this. Though this year wasn’t beset with oodles of accolades or PRs, I think what I’ll remember most about my racing in 2019 is how I felt in the moments, the little snapshots of the experience that have stayed with me all year long. It makes sense then that punctuating my year with Woodside couldn’t have been a wiser choice.

CHEEZ SO HARD bc we’re so dang happy

Happy 2019, welcome 2020, and lots of love.    xo Erin

2019 Excelsior Open XC race recap – Daly City, CA

2019 Excelsior Open XC race recap – Daly City, CA

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Saturday’s cross-country race marked the conclusion of the regular PA USATF season, as hard as that is to believe. Like almost all the other XC races that came before it this season, the Excelsior meet — a 5k in the San Bruno Mountains in Daly City — was one that I had never run before, so I (rather happily) had no idea what I was getting myself into. For the first time all season, the women raced last, at 11am, which seemed to bring with it an entirely different vibe than the other races. 

the squad at Excelsior (PC: Roy)

Fortunately, we fielded full men’s and women’s (open) teams, and my carpool buddies and I arrived with enough time to watch the open men’s and the masters men’s races. It’s fire season right now, and unfortunately, there are many raging throughout this fine state, including some in Sonoma County, not much further north beyond San Francisco/where we raced, which may help explain why there didn’t seem to be a lot of people racing. (I have no idea what the air quality was, but it wasn’t anything like the fires that happened around this time last year). 

Many of my male teammates shared race strategies with the other ladies and me, and our brief 2-mile warm-up showed us that the course was pretty hilly but had long stretches of descents. Even with the sun beating down on us (and continuing to get hotter), I was looking forward to seeing what I could do. (Plus, the faster I ran, the faster I’d be able to make it down to Morgan Hill, about 60 miles south, to catch A’s swim meet that began a couple hours prior). 

Like many other XC races, Excelsior started on the grass, and per yoosh, I was snail-like coming off the starting line. As soon as we hopped off the grass and transitioned to the trail and began slowly climbing our way up for most of the first mile, I gained places and tried to remain steady. It wasn’t until the back 400m or so of the first mile that we began descending, and I tried to let gravity do its thing without racing like a complete idiot.

somewhere in the first mile (PC: Roy)

We had a couple little ascents and descents before doing a U-turn and making our way back up everything that we had just come down from. I generally appreciate little OAB opportunities like this in racing because seeing my teammates mid-race gives me a little spring in my step, and I always appreciate the opportunity to cheer for others. Lisa and Anna were up ahead, looking strong, with Heather and me pretty close to each other and Maria not far behind. Everyone looked good on the tough, hilly, and hot course, and we knew it’d be over soon. It’s almost funny how short (and very, very intense) 5ks seem when you’re used to long (slower) stuff. 

making our way back. you can see me behind Heather (SO to the neon orange singlets!) (PC: Roy)
XC is all about teamwork (PC: Roy)

One of the best pieces of advice my teammates gave me was to press hard for the ~.9 mile that we’d be ascending between miles 1-2. I took his advice to heart and really tried to gap people in the middle third of the race, knowing that we’d soon be approaching a descent and would be ending the race on a pretty strong downhill. Leapfrogging with other runners is a lot of fun — it’s basically like adult tag, minus the actual tagging aspect — because if nothing else, we’re all helping each other to run better and faster. Some women and I had been leapfrogging from the get-go, and I could see that I was getting a lot closer to my teammates up ahead in the final ~800m or so of the race. 

trying to catch-up to Anna in the final throes of the race (PC: Roy)
about to get gapped in the final itty bit of the race, agh (PC: Alex)

Try as I might to work with gravity on the final ~400m downhill, any pep I had left was quickly dissipating, and probably within the final ~300m, I got gapped by a couple women; I didn’t have much left to match. We finished very near the start, in another grassy area, and at the literal end of the race, another runner and I posted a sprint-finish to the line (and if memory serves, I’m pretty sure she beat me). I finished the race feeling taxed but proud of the effort, given the conditions (a hilly course, a hot morning, and the like), and I was ecstatic that my teammate, Heather, and I could say that we had run all the regular season PA XC races this season. I can’t really pinpoint what I like about this course, but I think it was one of my favs this year. 

10 for 10 for XC with this lovely! (PC: Roy)

I needed to jet to Morgan Hill to make my daughter’s swim meet, so there was no cool-down to speak of, beyond walking (rather circuitiously) to my car. I have defined “success” rather broadly with these XC races, going more for a feeling than a specific finishing time or place, and I left Excelsior completely satisfied with the race. It’s annoying that I got gapped by a few women in the final ~400 or so, but it’s a great takeaway for me to work on in training. 

With the formal XC season behind us now and only the regional PA championship race remaining in November, my running plans for the rest of the year are TBA. I’ve officially deferred my CIM entry to 2020, and I have another PA road race, a half, on the calendar for this upcoming Sunday. Initially, I thought that maybe I’d spend this fall actually targeting the half, but it ultimately didn’t work out that way. It’ll be a good time, at any rate.

I have two spring marathons in 2020 — Big Sur in April and Mountains to Beach again in May — and I’m not certain about what’s going to happen between now and then (not as though I ever do, but still). Most days right now I’m just running what feels good and right for the given day and time I have available to train — long on trails one day, short on roads the next, or vice-versa or any other various permutations therein — and that’s keeping me pretty content, for the most part. I’m just now beginning to feel the urge to do some speedy running, so hopefully that will bode will for my forthcoming 26.2 training. 

I’m not sure if I’ll do a final recap about racing all the PA XC events or not, but in the event that all those thoughts don’t make it to my screen, at the very least, I can say that XC racing is some of the most challenging and most fun running I’ve done in the recent past. It’s so unlike any other type of racing or training that I usually do, and maybe that’s what makes it so awesome. For some reason, I find this type of running some of the most primal — it’s us against the land, whatever it wants to throw at us at any given day — and its challenging nature and simplicity really drew me in this fall. Maybe it’s because this time of year feels like controlled chaos every day with the kids and school starting and everything else, so this quarter I needed my running to be as loosely-structured as possible, thus making XC, a weird combination of short/fast running (speed) and trails/non-flat running (endurance) really attractive. I’m not really sure. It scratched the itch, anyway.

If nothing else, running allllllllll the XC races this fall has made me a better runner in ways that I can really feel but not necessarily (adequately) describe, and for that, I am quite grateful.