2013 Willow Winter Solstice Race

2013 Willow Winter Solstice Race    

    When I woke up there was five inches of new snow with an icy crust.  The fine snowflakes falling from the sky were pretty wet. They were riding the fence between snow and rain.  30 degrees.

    I had told myself that I would do it if the weather was reasonable.  I wasn’t interested in running thirteen miles in forty below temperatures nor through a foot of fresh snow.  It’s worth a look I told myself as the alarm went off at 6:00 A.M.  I packed up my gym bag with all my running gear, warmed up the truck and left.  

    I was surprised to discover that Willow did not get as much accumulation as Talkeetna overnight and I was optimistic that this might be a good run.

   “Ooh this is soft” I heard from one of my fellow runners within fifty feet of leaving the start line.  I chuckled to myself.  This could be awful.  We were running on loosely packed snow machine trails and each step would sink three to six inches deep.  It was like running through sand.  We all had headlamps that illuminated the snow pack in front of us like our own personal spotlights  

     Eighty beams of bouncing light in a big wave moved across Willow Lake straight into the darkest and shortest of days.  From there we would access the only road-running of the whole race which was plowed and hard packed.  It lasted about a quarter of a mile and it was sweet.  Everyone’s pace picked up along with our spirits.  I moved to the left to pass a couple of kids who were running the 5K portion of the race. “ Hey guys, nice job!” I told them as I ran by.  The kid closest to me who was probably ten years old and 120 pounds sped up to catch me and then decided it would be a good idea to try to shoulder me off the trail.  “Hey there buddy , you shouldn’t do that.”  He kept up his antics.  “ It’s bad form and bad sportsmanship.”  I reasoned.  Eventually after several additional pushes, his buddy called him off.  
"Josh, knock it off." 
I was proud of the way I handled it because my first instinct was to grab his arm and fling him over the snowbank ass-over-tea kettle. Rest assured, I was able to restrain myself and harness my inner teacher. Who knew that I would have to overcome a race bully?

     With the trail harassment behind me I crossed over to Long lake where the trail softened back up again like warm butter.  I tried to find a key to success.  Maybe I should make my own tracks.  Maybe I should try to run in the line created by the snowmachine’s skis.  Maybe I should try to run in other’s footprints.  It turned out to be a combination of all three techniques changing as the miles slowly ticked off.  Twelve minute miles never felt so tough.  

    Finally I found a rhythm and settled into a good pace that I could live with.  The trail, maintained by the Willow Trails Committee ( WTC) was excellent.  They have designed and maintained the trails in Willow for years and seemed to have found the perfect balance between user groups.  Snowmachiners, mushers, and skiers all know what to expect thanks to the comprehensive signage.  Well organized and with plenty of volunteers The WTC is a model for other recreational trail systems around the state.  

    Slowly I made my way up the bank of Long lake, to an airstrip and across some ponds and onto Boot lake.  From there Vera lake took us to its Western outlet to an informational kiosk where I tagged-out at the halfway- checkpoint and briefly chatted with race organizer Dave Johnston.  “ You’re doing great." He said. " You’re in fourth place.”  

    I looked up and saw a group coming up the trail.  “See ya Dave.”  Fourth place, really?  The last race I ran was the Kasugi Ridge Traverse and I didn't finish fourth. I earned the equivalent of the red-lantern.  Last place.  Fourth sounded pretty good to me.   

    I boogied back down the trail and caught up with some familiar faces.  My folks had trailered their snow machines from their house and unloaded at the Crystal Lake parking lot.  They wanted to watch this event unfold but mostly wanted to support me.

    They had some treats for me none of which I could stomach except for a red bull.  Hopefully I wouldn't be DQ'ed for using performance enhancing drugs. I chugged as much as I could and bid them farewell.  “Thanks.” I told them as I took off back down the trail I’d come.

  When I made it back out to Vera lake I noticed that there was someone about a quarter mile behind me.  Was he closing in on me? I couldn’t tell.  On the straight stretches I would look back and see a black figure with sparkly headlamp.  I buckled down and tried to quicken my pace.  I still had five miles to the finish but I wanted that fourth place bad.  In the Olympics that’s almost a bronze medal!  Finally I made my way across Willow Lake with no one in sight.  I ran up the hill to the finish line where Mom and Dad were waiting for me.  In a few minutes I would meet the runner in black.  She thanked me for my steps apparently she had been running in them.  We went inside the community center I ate some soup, changed clothes, and went home.

My support team.