Mount Washington Road Race

Green's Grant, NH

Sunday, June 20, 2021

First, what the heck is "Green's Grant"?!  Well, I'm glad you asked.  A "grant" in New Hampshire is an unincorporated portion of a county and is not part of any town.  Specific to Green's Grant, which currently has a population of one, this was made by the then British-colonial governor of New Hampshire to Lt Francis Green, for his service as a soldier of the French and Indian Wars.

I had earned a guaranteed entry to the 2020 Mt Washington race as an award for running 6 out of the 8 2019 USATF-NE Mountain Series races.  Not surprisingly, the 2020 edition of this race was cancelled along with many others due to COVID.  Race day 2021 would feature separate starts on separate days for men and women.  We had arrived the night before and stayed in the Covered Bridge Riverview Lodge in nearby Jackson.  I can't recommend this establishment at all.  Really rundown, screen door broken, placed smelled, pool disgusting looking, and both pool and breakfast cancelled ostensibly due to COVID, but at this point in the retreating pandemic I just find this to be an easy excuse.  Since there was no breakfast, Matthew and I went to a local Dunkin' two hours before race time.

Just before the start.  Ran in road flats.
(Pic by Jana)

Check in tent

Thought about buying one of these bumper stickers,
and I think they're a good retort to the more
popular "This car drove up Mt. Washington",
but am I really going to put this bumper sticker
on my car, or in a drawer.

Pretty cool bib!

Line up:  Now on to the race.  Went for a 2-mile warm-up on dirt roads and easy trails at the base.  Had plenty of time to line up, or so I thought.  The elites were starting at 8:30 sharp, and then there would be a pause before the "regular" runners started, two at a time, every ten seconds.  There was confusion on how long the pause would be, as well as how we would line up.  I assumed that like Millenium Running NH events, we would have cones or physical spots for us to line up on according to our seeded bib numbers (mine was 1096, or 96th seed of just over 400 men running today; women had run yesterday).  But you know what happens when you assume!  Despite everyone having a seeded bib, anyone could start in whatever position they wanted, so I found that a little chaotic.  I tried to get further up in the corralled queue, but if you tried to go around to get near the start, a volunteer was constantly telling people to go to the back of the line, or at least the back of the corral.  It was kind of funny when just a minute or two before race start, Joe Gray (US mountain running champ from Colorado, and eventual winner) also tried to go around the corral and was also rebuffed.  A discussion ensued, and once the volunteer [presumably] realized who he was, Joe (but only Joe) was allowed to bypass the corral and get up to the front.

Start:  I watched the elites (including Matthew) lead the race out, and the pause was ever so brief (one minute at most) before the rest of the runners started two at a time staggered starts.  Since I started at 8:40am (10 minutes after start) and given two runners every 10 seconds, I estimate I started in about 140th place.  There was no problem with bunching as everyone was well spaced out and you had plenty of width to navigate the road the entire race.  When you got up to the start, you waited until your bib was scanned and name/city/state displayed overhead, and then you could go.

Starting line

Starting my race

After running a very short distance on a dirt road, you turned onto the paved auto road itself and started the uphill climb.  A 4,600' climb over 7.5 miles awaited, with an average incline of 12%.  The elevation gain per mile was pretty consistent, with the second half being just slightly steeper.  The first mile had the least elevation gain, at 500', and the rest of the miles ranged from 600' to 700' gain.  I was frankly shocked to see people walking already on the very first hill, as in just 1/4 mile in.  Again, there was plenty of room to go around them, but I was just afraid of the mental effect of seeing others around me walking and thus wanting to walk myself.  I wasn't sure if there so many people around me walking because 1) I started so far back so there were much slower runners ahead of me, or 2) that there were a number of skilled runners successfully employing a walk/run strategy [conserve on walking sections, have more energy on running].  Anyway, I have little confidence in a walk/run strategy for myself, and wanted to run as long as possible.  I told myself I would run at least to the end of Mile 1 before considering walking.

First half:  I finished Mile 1 in 9:53, which would be my only sub-10 mile on the day.  But I felt fine, and I recalled a former boss of mine at Fidelity and his smoking cessation struggle and I set a new goal of finishing Mile 2 before considering any walking.  Let me explain.  Gene (one of my many managers during my Fidelity tenure) had been a longtime chain smoker that reportedly tried numerous times to quit "cold turkey", all unsuccessful.  He said it felt too stressful to try to quit forever, so in the meantime, he would try to quit just for one day.  Success!  So he tried a second day.  Success again!  So he only quits for one day at a time, and at least when he recounted his story to me, he said that was 15 years ago now.  The analogy worked for me.  I got through Mile 2 but this was tough both physically and mentally (wouldn't you be more comfortable walking with the people around you?), so I set my goal on the next mile.  Somewhere in the third mile, I looked ahead and counted the people I could see ahead of me before the next road turn.  I counted 18 people, and 14 of them were walking!  Ugh; this was mentally challenging.  Let me just get through the next mile.  At the halfway mark, this was the only time I stopped, and only for a brief moment to fill and drink from my cup, not once, but twice.

This was another cupless race.
Used this collapsible cup, which
Matthew found on Amazon, at this
race.  Folded up nicely into shorts pocket
and forgot it was there.

Second half:  I felt happy that I had run the entire first half, but continued my Gene approach of just running for one more mile at a time, before I walked.  The most memorable moment next was two Asian women walking up the road, one of each edge, talking to each other in their own language and cheering on runners.  I got close enough to one to recognize the language:  Mandarin.  When one said "Good job" as I ran by, I said thank you in Mandarin back to her.  The other woman said back to me, “jiāyóu” (加油) , and I had to think for a moment.  Literally "add gas" (as in fill up your car's gas tank)?  Oh yes, I think that can also mean encouragement at an event like a road race.  I turned slightly and waved with a thumbs up.  Small moment, but it encouraged me and kept me going, especially as there were pretty much zero spectators cheering you on.

Sometime just after Mile 5, I caught up to and ran past WTAC teammate Eric Ciocca from western MA.  To be clear, it was easy to run past him, as he was walking.  We chatted for just a moment, as we both observed that someone had written a large "J-E-F-F" in chalk on the road.  Obviously it was meant for me, as no one else is named Jeff.  A short time later he "blasted" past me (probably a 10 minute pace, as I was running 12:xx!) running.  Not sure if it was not sustainable or part of a walk/run strategy he was employing, but I saw him stop running and start walking again a little ways ahead of me.  I caught up to him shortly and passed him again, this time for good, as he urged me to keep it going and some other encouragement.  

Somewhere about Mile 5

Just after passing Eric, the road turned from asphalt to dirt.  I remember Matthew mentioning this, and I mistakenly assumed (here I go with those assumptions again) it would be dirt for the remainder of the distance, especially as we're above treeline in an alpine zone now.  It turns out the dirt section was very short and a rare relatively flat respite before climbing resumed.  There were some spectacular views here, but they were short-lived as not long after the 6-mile marker, we were in the clouds and the visibility was really diminished.  I remember a sharp left 90° turn and the pitch got significantly steeper, certainly above 15%.  I seriously figured my running was just about done, but pushed ahead.  There were much fewer runners around me, and the visibility was getting sharply reduced.  Soon I could barely see 10 feet ahead of me, and when I did come up on runners, it was just at the last second.  I remember all of a sudden seeing a car and it freaked me out until I realized it was a support vehicle parked in a pullout area just off the road.  

Starting to get foggy.  And steeper!

Running in near zero visibility now, all of a sudden a large "MILE 7" sign jumped out on my left.  Awesome!  I was convinced for the first time I would run the entire course, and push up the final 22% "wall" at the end no matter what.  I was absolutely disoriented now as to what direction the summit was in and could see nothing but the road under my feet.  It was music to my ear to hear cowbells, as clearly I was getting close to the finish, but how far and in what direction I had no idea.  I'd run past the cowbells and then hear more cowbells and shouting.  This was encouraging.  The terrain got steeper, but not overwhelming.  Was this the start of the "wall"?  I couldn't see ahead of me whether the steepness continued or not.  Before I knew it, I was at the finish line and crossed it as I heard my name called, and people gave me a blanket.  Supposedly it was 42° here, with a wind chill factor of 32°.  Matthew quickly found me.  I was COLD!  Besides the temperature, I was soaking wet from being in the clouds/fog.  

Just three seconds before I cross the finish line,
you can barely see my silhouette at all
(enshrouded in fog at 3 o'clock)
[These pics snapped from finish line video on YouTube, with
caption "Due to overcast and windy conditions
at the summit the video is often of poor quality."]

Two seconds to finish ...

One second to finish, coming into view

Finally, at the finish line itself you can see me,
but just silhouettes of spectators lining the road behind me.
And note the spectators are in winter jackets, hoods, gloves, etc.

Final result:  1:28:10, 62nd of 434 overall, 5th of 53 in age group.  Full results here.

Blanket with logo provided at finish line

After getting a drink of water (from my collapsible cup), we both went inside the summit building to warm up a bit, but we didn't stay long and I didn't sit down as I was afraid I'd stiffen up.  (Having weighed several options to get back down the mountain, including 1) have Jana drive up, but we would have to wait quite a while until all the runners are at the top before driving down, 2) run down 3-4 miles of trails to the Cog Railway, but Jana would have to drive there to meet us, and 3) just run the 7.5 miles back down the Auto Road, we chose #3.)  Back outside, we went down stairs around the finish line and back onto the road again.  We had to be careful as with very limited visibility, we need to make sure we didn't impede runners making their way up.  A few times, we stepped off the road completely.  We had our blankets wrapped around us to keep warm, until a mile at most when it cleared up completely.  It looked like the summit would soon be clear, but certainly not while we were up there.  Once the clouds broke, it was easy to avoid the runners coming up.   Certainly now I could understand why they wouldn't let cars descend at this time.

Despite a much slower and chaotic first mile downhill of 8:05, we ended up running an average 6:26 pace even with two stops, and one mile split at 5:49, and three others at 6-flat.  I wonder what we could have run if we actually tried, as opposed to just letting gravity do most of the work.  We arrived back at the base parking lot to see Jana and Brady about 11:20am and now very hungry, got our tickets off our bib to redeem our included turkey dinner to go from a local turkey farm.  I was really annoyed to learn that they wouldn't be serving them until 12:30pm, over an hour later.  When I explained that we would be long gone by then, the guy started to get a little testy with me and said this was all explained in the e-mail notifications.  OK, maybe it was and I missed it, but that wasn't really my point and my disappointment wasn't directed specifically at him, so I took the high road and said thanks and left.  It seems the organizers could have arranged better to have at least some of the meals ready for those of us (and there were quite a few) who had run down and were looking to get some food.  Anyway, you don't go to a race for the food, just like you don't go a race for the awards or the t-shirt (which I'll probably never wear as it's pink and I don't care for the design), so I had a great experience overall and want to focus on that.  We weren't going to sit and wait over an hour for the food, so we started our trek back to RI and had a nice lunch outdoors in North Conway on the way back.

Post-race thoughts:

• I wouldn't say this was a high bucket-list race for me, but I had certainly thought about running this for some years.
• I originally figured this would be a one-and-done race that I would hate, but it didn't turn out that way.  I would definitely run this again.
• I overestimated the difficulty of the race and left something out on the course.  I'm thrilled that I ran the entire way, but do feel I could I run it faster.
• The run down was fun and felt easy for the first few miles, but with two miles left to go, I was ready to be done.
• I underestimated the recovery effort and time needed, as it took a full five days.  I'm sure running down the mountain exacerbated the recovery period.  But it was fun!