Farm Park Challenge Marathon - May 7, 2022

 Preparation

Having run Farm Park Challenge last year (report here), I know that one parks right at the start-finish so one's car becomes one's drop bag. And since the forecast calls for rain and temperatures in the 50s at the Agricultural History Farm Park, the car provides a dry - and large - drop bag. Since I'll be running five laps of the course, I'll pass my car four times (and at the finish) so I stock it with six shirts, an extra poncho, four pairs of gloves, four hats, extra buffs, towels and bandanas. And dry clothes for the finish.

Early on not too muddy

I arrive in ample time, park, pick up my bib, and sit in the car to stay dry and warm before the less than one minute walk to the start at 6:55, a five minute head start on those running the challenge races (run each 5.18 mile lap in an hour, then start the next lap at the start of the next hour).  At 6:49 I glance over to the start and realize that I mis-read the start time - it's at 6:50. I leap out of the car, and dash for the start line as the RD is counting down "10, 9, 8 . . . ," reaching it at "4." And we are off, and I'm out of breath, so I have to immediately start walking.

Back and Forth

The course is an out-and-back mostly on the the Upper Rock Creek Trail.  It is mostly new territory for me and is a mix of grassy surface, some double wide track, a bit of paved trail in the middle, and a small stretch of single track.  Three small bridges cross Rock Creek and two smaller streams.  The rain is light but steady, and the course gets muddier and more slippery as the day goes on.

At the end of the first lap (1:03:29) I go to the car, change both shirts under the damp poncho, and change my gloves and hat.  

The second loop is much like the first, only the course is getting more slippery.  I chat a bit with Monika B., who is only running two loops as she has other commitments for the day.

In the third loop with
the second poncho and third hat.

At the end of loop 2 (1:10:52) I revisit the car.  The poncho was water resistant, not water repellent, and after over two hours in the rain it is soaked.  The gloves I had put in its pocket are also soaked, so they, too, go. I change shirts again.  I put on the cheap, water repellent, plastic disposable poncho.  It isn't stylish (but a women tells me she can see me on the course because of its yellow hue).

Approaching the end of the third loop (1:20:13) my hip starts to hurt.  There is no obvious reason for the pain, but none the less, it is there.  I briefly think of dropping but decide to slow down, both mentally and physically. Back at the car I take a pair of ibuprofen and decide to walk for 20 minutes. That's how long I figure it will take for the pain reliever to kick in.  Walking awhile I start to make some calculations. Twenty minutes of walking will be about a mile.  That means I would only have another 1.5 miles of so to get to the turn around.  That's walkable, and walking back the 2.5 miles would at least give me four loops, I figure.

The bridge over Rock Creek

After 20 minutes or so I tentatively try running. No pain. I don't overdo it (I never do anyway) but I can get back to my usual mix of running and walking.  While the rain is lessening to a mist, the course is becoming increasingly muddy and slippery.  There are no steep inclines, but the slight downhills are treacherous and places where the trails are canted I sometimes slide sideways.

I chat with a women from Texas who is planning to take advantage of the generous ten hour cutoff to finish the race.  She and several colleagues are on an East Coast tour to rack up a number of states for their 50-State quest.  Maryland today, then a race in New Jersey of Tuesday, then Rehoboth for Delaware on Saturday then on to Connecticut for a fourth.

It's a stream trail

Finishing the fourth lap (1:26:19) I grab a slice of pizza and an avocado-sweet potato wrap and head to the car for another change of shirts. The rain has ended so I ditch the poncho, get rid of the gloves and change hats.

Nothing to do now but repeat what I've been doing.  I run a short while with one of the challenge racers, who are on their sixth loop. He's new to trails, but even with the inclement conditions is enjoying the experience.

At the finish with muddy legs
and beer

Getting near the turn-around I catch a women running the six-hour challenge.  She thinks she won't be able to finish the lap under the required hour, but I urge her on, mainly because my computational ability is way off (a common experience of distance runners).  She does go on and is soon out of sight, but won't make the cutoff.

I get to the start-finish and am directed to the short grassy loop that adds the few tenths of a mile necessary to reach the 26.2 miles to make a marathon. The grass is wet but the water and leaves of grass wipe the mud off my shoes (see picture, left).

Midway through the mini-loop I catch up to a runner. It turns out that she has actually finished the race, but is running another mini-loop because Strava doesn't register that she has completed 26.2 miles. "I must have gone off course somewhere," she says. "Or maybe your device is wrong," I reply. "Don't let the machine rule you."

When I finish I collect my finisher's glass and two Waredaca beers, get another slice of pizza, and head home to wash off layers of mud.

Results

I finish in 6:25:20, good for 12 of 21 and 7 of 9 males. I'm the second oldest finisher (1 of 2 in the 70+ age group) and have a surprisingly good Ultrasignup rank of 55.05 (based on the winner's 3:36:12 time).

The conditions take a heavy toll on the challenge runners. Only 27 of 36 (75%) 3-hour challengers complete their laps on time; 10 of 27 (37%) of 6-hour challengers; and only a single 10-hour challenger out of 10 (10%).  In fact, only two other runners completed as many as seven loops.

Swag: Shirt, bib, mason jar glass,
two Wardeca beers