Monday, August 13, 2018

North American OCR Championships 2018: Team Relay & Charity Open

The last day of the North American OCR Championships featured two events, the Team Relay and the Charity Open 7K to benefit the Stratton Foundation. My team from OCR World Championships, Tiny^2 + 1, had once again joined forces for the team race at NorAm. Niki and Steve were good teammates from the Spahtens and excellent friends to do the team run with because we all were on the same page -- camaraderie over competitiveness. After two days of racing, we weren't "in it to win it" for the team relay. We wanted to each do our best and have a good time. 


Sunday morning, I woke up to an extremely sore body. I didn't want to move, much less run another obstacle course race. Additionally, the wet weather from the previous day had continued overnight. The rain was unabated. In a way this was a blessing; I had no notions that I would be competitive on my section of the team relay in the wet. I could focus, instead, on having fun. I find three day of sustained heavy competition to be too much for me, both physically and mentally. I like to race on Sunday at NorAm or OCRWC, but it has to be more a "fun time." 

The team race at the championship races, like NorAm and OCRWC, is designed for teams of three, where individuals can specialize in the areas of speed/endurance, strength, and technical. The speed/endurance section is the longest, and focuses on running and climbing the mountain. The racer tackling the strength portion of the relay will be doing the heavy carries and the hoists. The technical person is the obstacle specialist and does the rigs. For our team, Niki would handle speed, Steve would manage strength, and I would do technical. 


After feedback last year about the strength section, it had gotten beefed up for NorAm. There were even some technical elements -- La Gaffe and Skitch -- , an interesting choice, and a band cutter, considering the rain. Speed was left the most obstacle "lite" though a last minute change made runners have to tackle Dragon's Back on the speed course, instead of Rolling Thunder. This was a challenging adjustment for sure and made me supremely happy I was not doing the speed section. The technical portion of the course, covered a little over 3K and incorporated many of the obstacles from the 3K course from Friday.

Tiny^2 + 1 was part of the mixed open wave that started at 10:15 a.m. There was light rain as we headed off to the starting line to see Niki off on course. I knew that Niki would be out for around an hour, since she had some significant elevation to cover, and Steve would be out for around 40 minutes. That meant I had plenty of time to hang out before my turn came. While Niki ran, I spent time relaxing in the athlete lounge, basically an empty (but quiet!) room. I wanted to keep warm. It was raining and in the low 60s, which was fine if you were moving, but rough if you were hanging out in just a hoodie for a few hours.

After about 50 minutes, I headed out to the transition area to wait for Niki with Steve. At around 11:40 a.m., Niki arrived, having spent quite a while trying to keep her band at Dragon's Back, with the weather causing the challenge and, ultimately, making it not a possibility that day.

Steve was off, so Niki and I went in so I could check my bag. Steve's portion of the race featured an endless Wreckbag climb and the farmers carry, which was all pretty easy to see from the main area, so we were able to track his progress. The rain made La Gaffe impossible -- I saw almost no one make it during my wait there -- so Steve moved on. I knew he just had Skitch and then it was my turn. I headed out at 12:25 p.m.

I was cold and stiff. My arms and quads were killing me but I made myself move at a light jog. It helped. The first obstacle was Skull Valley. Going into the technical section of the team relay I knew I would not keep my band. It was a function of the weather but also because Stairway to Heaven was on course. I had lost my band there during the 15K before it rained. I had no hope today. That might have been discouraging, but, in fact, for the Sunday race it was liberating. I could have fun and try my best. My arms could barely move, so I would do what I could do -- no problem.

With this strategy, I climbed up to Skull Valley. I grasped the skulls and moved along. What had been easy enough on Friday with fresh arms felt like torture, as if my arms were being pulled out of my body. During the monkey bars I decided to give up my band here. I wanted to do it on my terms and not lose two to Stairway to Heaven.

Even though I had given up my band, I wanted to put in a solid race. I did the full rope climb, and made it over the Confidence Wall, where you had to climb a 12' wall with a rope. Both of these obstacles were slippery in the rain and no joke as a result.

The course then took racers uphill to Stairway. I had thought the climb would be lengthier, like the section of the 15K that brought us to Stairway, but it was a short hike, necessitating only a brief bit of walking. I was determined to run and move along at a decent speed. I cut my losses at Stairway before moving on to the metal ladders. I like to do skinny ladder climbs like this sideways because it uses way less arm strength. It worked like a charm here.

I ran down the hill to trapeze. Just like Saturday, it was soaking wet. I made it about 3/4 of the way through before slipping off. I did a quick ladder wall before running over to the rig with the rings and low monkey bars from the 3K course. I noticed that some adjustments had been made. There were two hanging rings for you to step in under the monkey bars and a t-bar replaced the third ring on the first set of the rig. This meant, there was a section with two rings, a small ball (which you could skip) and a t-grip. Then there was a section with rings hanging below the low monkey bars, and finally there was the section with four ropes, unaltered from earlier races. I was excited to try something new at this point in the weekend -- it was a nice mix-up for the mind, plus, I was approaching this from a "have fun" standpoint. I made a couple of attempts and kept slipping off the t-shaped bar, but I wanted to keep at it. If I got past that point, I thought I could do it. I persisted and managed to make it to the low monkey bars. I "walked" through, getting to the first rope, which I s-hooked around my foot and stood up. I transitioned to the next rope, where there was a knot. My arms were tired, so I took the opportunity to sit on the knot for a little and regroup before finishing the rig. Excellent!


There were just a few obstacles left. I ran down to the floating walls and quickly made my way through. Urban Sky proved too much for me at this point in the weekend, and I could only make the first section. I ran on. My teammates were waiting right beyond the car obstacle. We met up and raced over to the final slip wall, The Knot. The wall was so slick at this point, I couldn't even make it to the rope (which had, of course, been raised so that it was harder to reach). Steve ended up helping me and Niki make it to the top before heading up himself solo -- nicely done, sir! We crossed the line at just around 1:10 p.m.
 

There was little time to celebrate before the charity run. Technically, the charity 7K started at 1:00 p.m., which was the time that Steve and I had registered for; however, we were promised that we could go off after that -- they would release waves every 20 minutes. We grabbed our chips and bibs and headed back to the starting line. There was no one there, and the rain was coming down. It was 1:20 p.m., so we headed out on course.


Much like at OCRWC, the charity run was a do-as-you-like fun run for us. We had covered over a half marathon's worth of miles over the past few days, and another 7K, with a trip up the mountain wasn't happening. Most of the charity runners I saw felt the same. This was an opportunity to play as we liked on obstacles and meander around the course. 

Steve and I headed out, running into a band of other NE Spahtens mid-way. We walked with them for a while, tackling the inverted wall and watching people play on the Force 5 Rig before heading out on our own again. We goofed around on La Gaffe, which was way too wet to do anything serious on and then walked over to the rig that had been modified for the team relay. There, we ran into Josh and Molly. After playing around on the rig for a few minutes, we jogged to the finish line, having run just over a mile and spending around 35 minutes on course. 

I love that the charity open exists for those individuals who are at NorAm with family and don't want to tackle the full 15K or didn't qualify. For those of us who are on day three of racing, it's a fun way to donate some money to charity and have one last good time with friends. Rain and a desire for lunch kept my frolicking short, and that was just right. A nice cap to the weekend.


NorAm was a blast. I loved the course, which was world-class. I appreciated that it was a smaller event than OCRWC. NorAm felt more intimate and was much less stressful to navigate. Completing the 3K with my band was the culmination of almost a year of training. The progress I showed with my physical and mental strength on the 15K was encouraging and makes me want to work for next year. Running with friends during the team relay and the charity open event were a wonderful finish to a weekend spent with some pretty cool folks doing something I love. 

NorAm at Stratton was the highlight of a great race season. I am super super super hoping that NorAm is at Stratton again. I thought it was a good venue (minus the pricey food -- but parking was great, the mountain excellent, and lodging adequate). The course layout couldn't have been better; even though we all hate a "death march," the one on the 15K was at least reasonable. I was so pleased about the adjustments made so that the course was height accessible, that I ran over to race director, Adrian, when I saw him at the venue to personally thank him. In sum, NorAm delivered. 

What's next? The countdown to hear about the 2019 location for NorAm, figuring out where to make my qualification attempt (F.I.T. in November?), and then training for the big event. I hope to see you at the 2019 NorAm Champs!

Saturday, August 11, 2018

North American OCR Championships 2018: 15K

15K. 39 obstacles. Hard core. The 2018 North American OCR Championships delivered on the difficulty with the 15K race, which had over twice the number of obstacles from Friday's 3K course and what felt like infinitely more feet of elevation.

The women 30 - 34 wave set out early in the day at 9:15 a.m., an amazing privilege, not the least because rain was predicted for the afternoon. The start-of-race experience was much the same as on Friday. Loud music...check. MC...check. The good news was that they didn't keep us in the corral long before sending us on our way at exactly 9:15 a.m. Unlike with the 3K, we didn't do a phased wave start but were able to all go out on the course at the same time. We were on our way!

The course took racers up in a short incline in much the same way as the 3K. We faced the 4' and 6' walls before continuing up the mountain, in a way decidedly not like the 3K course. The hike up Stratton Mountain was intense, and it was lengthy. We climbed continuously until mile 2.25. The climb was, simply put, a beat-down and exhausting. It was relentless. The saving grace was that the weather was clear and cool and conditions were good. We were able to keep moving at a fairly decent climbing pace. The views were spectacular.

At the top of the mountain, we finally encountered some obstacles. I don't quite recall everything between obstacles three and five on the map. I know that Log Runner had racers walk up a short inclined balance beam. The ramp wall would have been an inclined slip wall with ropes, I imagine, but I don't remember that obstacle being at that position. Q Steps was similar to the American Ninja Warrior style quintuple steps, though you were able to put your hands on one set of steps and your feet on the other to move your way though.

I actually think that obstacle six on the map, Pipe Dreams, preceded the previous set of obstacles. Pipe Dreams challenged racers to do a short rope climb to a horizontal pipe, which the racers then had to shimmy along with hands, before a rope down to the ground. (Shale Hill regulars will know that this obstacle is an easier version of the zig-zag obstacle.)

We stayed on top of the mountain for the first rig. I saw a number of folks have issues with this rig and definitely some bands were lost here. I did just fine. The rig featured rings to a horizontal rectangular pipe. There were also some monkey bars and a rope to the final bell.

I grabbed some water from the water stations as I headed down the mountain. The water stations were very intelligently organized for the 15K with many of them being able to be visited twice -- both going and coming on the course. As a result, I was totally fine with bringing no hydration, even though I was out on the course for four and a half hours. Moderate temperatures and well-positioned water stations made this possible.

We encountered a barbed wire crawl on the way down the mountain. The map lists obstacle nine as Rolling Thunder, though I recall that obstacle actually being positioned after the through wall. Regardless, Rolling Thunder is an obstacle from Bone Frog that has tires wrapped around a horizontal board, which racers have to roll themselves over. The tires are about face-level for me, so this is a bit tricky, but I managed to wedge myself between the small space between two tires and get over.

What I recall before Rolling Thunder is obstacles ten through thirteen. The quarter pipe was steep enough that I had to run at it twice. A volunteer encouraged me that I really needed to commit to racing up the incline and leaping to grab the top. To get down, racers had to roll across a cargo net and then climb another net on the other side.


The next obstacle was Dragon's Back. At OCR World Championships, I hadn't been able to get up this obstacle because it was so wet. At NorAm, conditions were dry, and they had added a rope. I climbed up. "I'm not afraid of heights," I thought, "This will be no problem." And I promptly freaked out.


How to describe Dragon's Back? The obstacle is almost entirely mental and requires racers to leap off a platform, onto a board, angled away, and grab a pole. If you really want to understand, I recommend an article I found called, "Dragon's Back Open Letter" (Content note: swearing, discussions of mental health issues). I do not kid you when I say I was up there unable to move. I have never really been afraid of anything during my time as an OCR athlete, and I had no idea what to do. I was extremely lucky that my OCR friend, Niki, came along while I was stalled. She encouraged me, told me I could do it, demonstrated by doing it herself. I really really really didn't want to lose my band here. This obstacle was mental, and I didn't want to lose my band on something mental. Something physical, something where my strength gave out? Fine. This? Not fine.

I had many false starts. I almost jumped and didn't. Until finally, I did. And I made it. And there was one more jump to go. It was farther. How could I make it? I was going to miss and end up splattered on that wall and it was going to be terrible and I definitely shouldn't and okay I could do this, I would do this because I wanted my band and I couldn't lose it this way and and and...I jumped, and I made it. And I burst into hysterical tears while Niki hugged me. To anyone who has stood on the top of Dragon's Back and not made the leap, I understand.

I pulled myself into some semblance of decent shape and moved over to the low rig, a super low structure with hanging loops that requires racers to move through without touching the ground. You have to keep yourself suspended with feet in loops and arms supporting you as you move forward. But I was back in familiar territory with this obstacle, pleasantly so, and I made my way through without too much difficulty.

I jumped a quick through wall on the way back down the mountain. In terms of mileage, we were around half way through. The next section was going to be terrible though -- a hoist, a farmers carry, and a Wreckbag carry with a crawl. (Note: The hurdles listed on the NorAm 15K map were definitely not on the course.) The hoist was pretty standard, with racers having to use a pulley to lift a 50 pound Wreckbag. The rope was skinny, which was annoying, but I used the technique that Rob Butler, owner of Shale Hill, taught me at one of their summer training camps, and was able to get it up. For the farmers carry, we actually only had to take one cloth bucket of sand, so I alternated between hugging it in front and balancing it on my shoulder. I survived, but I was felt myself tiring. The 50 pound Wreckbag carry was twice the distance of the 3K and one of the most horrible parts of the NorAm experience. I struggled. I weigh 120 pounds, so the Wreckbag was 42% of my body weight, a significant increase in mass. My shoulders and spine protested as I trudged super slowly up the mountain. I almost didn't make it to the crawl, but I did. The bag came off my shoulders as I turned to go downhill and under the crawl. Unfortunately, after dragging the bag through the crawl, a new problem presented itself; how would I get the bag back up? I writhed around on the ground, while racers walked by sympathetically offering encouragement. Somehow, I managed to get the bag shouldered and my body moving again. I walked down with a guy who distracted me with pleasant talk. Carries over. Thank goodness. Never again.


I was beat, but there were some technical obstacles up next, and I had to maintain my focus. I ran downhill and vaulted over the inverted wall before heading into the tent to the Force 5 Rig. I had done well on this during the 3K and hoped to do well again. Fortunately, I did. The underhand grip on the rectangular blocks worked well once more, and I made my way through with focus and intentionality.


Next up was La Gaffe and the low crawl up to Skitch, just like on the 3K. I had some time for trial and error on Skitch on Friday and was able to fly through during the 15K without any issue.


I was feeling optimistic at this point in the race. Most of the challenging upcoming obstacles were ones that I have managed the previous day. Up next were a couple other obstacles from the 3K, Skull Valley followed by the rope climb. The 15K course then diverged from the 3K course to take us up to a tall wall with a rope. The top of the wall was significantly thick for added difficulty.

I jogged along lightly uphill until I came along to Stairway to Heaven, an a-frame with steps that you have to ascend with your hands. I had been pleased to do well on this obstacle at OCRWC and hadn't given it much thought since then since I had been doing similar / enhanced training. When I approached the obstacle I felt a bit of concern. The steps that had been easy for me to reach at OCRWC, so I was displeased to see that they started quite a bit higher and that the angle of the steps seemed adjusted with more space at top and between steps. The volunteer was telling racers that we could use our legs to get started. I braced myself against the two boards with my legs and shimmied up until I got my hands around the first step. I did a series of pull-ups to move up the stairs with my hands until I got to the top step. I went to transition and couldn't make it. The reach! Back down to the ground. I couldn't believe it. I had my band. I had done a bunch of really hard obstacles. I had done this obstacle before without any issue! Many times in fact.

I stayed at Stairway to Heaven and tried again and again and again. Over time, my body began to shake with fatigue. I took a break for water and tried again. Then it started to rain. At this point, I made the decision to move on. It was a difficult choice, but, I think, it was the right one. I felt sad as the volunteer cut the band off my wrist. I had done a lot of hold onto this band. I was at around the 12K mark and had obstacles that I had completed before ahead of me. However, with the rain, I knew things were going to get hard. I was exhausted, and I needed to finish. A fellow racer gave me a pat on the back and said, "Good job." I super appreciated that lady's support!

I trekked uphill. I was spent, but I kept a positive mental attitude and moved forward, though I couldn't believe we had to walk up the mountain again. I just wanted to keep moving. After what seemed like ages and ages of climbing, I came to two obstacles. The first was Z-man, a set of horizontal board making a z-shape, shifted 90 degrees. I climbed over no problem and ran over to the next obstacle, top shelf. This obstacle had racers climb to a board using a rope and then climb over a board right above it. Both of these obstacles were fine, even in my tired state.

I ran along until I reached a wall with a rope. I had done something like this at Shale Hill many times, so I confidently made it over the wall. Following that, the course map had stated we'd come to a cargo net, but I didn't see it on course. I continued onward running as best I could on super exhausted legs. I just wanted to finish. I came to the caving ladders, which I quickly ascended.

I knew that from there we had about a mile and a half to go. I had to do this. We met back up with the 3K course, so I knew what to expect. I headed over to Trapeze. At this point the rain was really coming down and the rigs were all soaked. I had made it through Trapeze with zero problem during the 3K but with the rain, I kept rolling off the monkey bar section. I made it about 2/3 of the way through, tried around three times and decided to move on to the rope climb, which proved just fine. Next up was the second rig. The first set of rings went well, but the low rectangular bars were super slick, and I couldn't make it to the ropes, despite multiple attempts. I wanted to save something for the team relay the next day, so I moved on to the floating walls, which I was able to make my way through, slowly but steadily.

I came up to Urban Sky where I made, again, multiple attempts before deciding I was too exhausted and the rig was too wet for my efforts to have gains. I had only missed four obstacles on the entire 15K course, and I had given it significant effort. I was satisfied. I ran up to Car Jacked, rolled over the cars, and up to the final obstacle, The Knot. I ran as best I could at the slip wall, which was wet. I slid down, re-tried, and made it to the rope. I pulled myself up and over and ran across the finish line. I was so relieved to do done!


I finished the 15K course in 4:31 with only four obstacle failures -- one of which I had done last year and three of which I had done the day before in better weather. I had put forth a significant effort and showed improvement. When I had failed an obstacle, I was able to keep a good attitude and motivation and move on. I also recognize that there are definitely some areas for improvement next year. When I posted my results to the tool that I use with my coaches I finished out my post-workout comments by writing, "Brainstorming 15K NorAm 2019 goals... How do you feel about pull-up negatives? ;-)" 2019 NorAm Champs? I can't wait.

Friday, August 10, 2018

North American OCR Championships 2018: 3K

The story of my 3K race at the North American OCR Championships begins with the past. In October 2017, I traveled to Canada to participate in the OCR World Championships. I had trained hard. I thought I was ready. But I wasn't. The course was harder than I anticipated and the difference between my expectations for my success and reality were mentally challenging. I had been convinced I would keep at least one of my bands -- the symbol for having 100% obstacle completion. I was so focused on this goal that, in some ways, I let my enjoyment of the experience slip me by.

I came back from Canada convinced not to let that happen again. My thoughts were two-fold. I wanted to train smarter (since I was training hard enough). I also wanted to adjust my expectations. To this end, in December, I recruited professional help by enlisting Hart Strength & Endurance Coaching. I got a training log and started recording all my workout meticulously. I also did mental work around goal setting and making sure that the goals I created were not too singular. There had to be many definitions around success and incremental levels to track growth.

My target race was the North American OCR Championships. I had qualified for both this race and the World Championships in August at F.I.T. Challenge but with OCRWC traveling to London, I was going to focus on a more local effort. I wanted to do well at the NorAm Champs and put in a performance where I felt I had given 100% effort. I wanted to race and feel good about my results.

The 2018 NorAm Championships are taking place as I write this in Stratton, Vermont. Stratton is only a 105 minute drive from my home, meaning I was able to drive up Friday morning before my 9:45 a.m. wave for the 30 - 39 women. I arrived at Stratton in plenty of time, which was a good thing since it was a bit challenging to figure out where I needed to be. I ended up driving around and asking for directions. The NorAm Champs main area was located right near the heart of the Stratton ski lodge. I found parking and walked around until I found check-in.

Unlike at OCR Championships, the check-in was entirely stress-free. Not only was I able to walk right up to the registration area, but friendly faces were behind the counter in the form of fellow NE Spahtens, Niki and Sandy. I had registered for the Friday 3K, the Saturday 15K, and the Sunday team relay and charity races. I got four bibs and three bands for the 3K, 15K, and team relay.


After getting my packets, I went over and got my t-shirts. I was excited to find that we got different ones for each race. I have three identical shirts from OCRWC, plus one different one for the OCRWC charity run. From NorAm, I'll have four unique shirts with different colors, all marked with their distance. Because registration had been so smooth, I had plenty of time before my wave. I chose to take the time to organize the items I had gotten at registration, try to relax, and check my bag. I am not usually nervous before I race, but this was a race where I wanted to do well, and the result was some stress. I wanted to channel that feeling to keep focused and energized on the course.

A little before 9:45 a.m., I headed over to the starting area. One thing I have never liked is how loud music at the starting gate is at races. It's painful (and bad for people's hearing). I was happy to see that Coach Pain had been replaced with a new starting line person. I am not one for getting amped up with an MC at the starting line, but I was happy to not have to be offended by Coach Pain, who struck me as a bit of a misogynist at OCRWC. 

The 3K was designed so that sets of around a dozen people went out at a time, meaning that the entire wave would start over the period of ten minutes or so. I was fortunate enough to be in the first set of 12 at the starting gate. I was ready to get moving and pleased when announcements were over and we were sent out on the course.


The 3K (1.8 mile) course started with a modest climb. (Note: I logged the course at more like 2.5 miles, but maybe I just did a lot of back and forth?) I was not particularly fast out of the gate, but I persistently jogged uphill passing a few folks. I was in this to complete obstacles, not to worry about my time. I will never be the fastest athlete, but I wanted to have quality obstacle completion. The weather was perfect. It was cloudy with a little bit of a breeze and temperatures right around 70 degrees. It felt like the first nice day in weeks, and I was pleased to be outdoors doing something I enjoy. Soon, I hit the first set of obstacles, a 4' wall, and then a 6' wall a little farther down the course. From there, it was a bit of a downhill jog to the Wreckbag carry. I am not a fan of carries, which I always find super challenging and, which tend to slow me down. It took me a while to shoulder the 50 lb Wreckbag, but, once I did, I wanted to move as efficiently as I could so as to get it off my back. The Wreckbag carry was long enough while still being manageable.

I was a bit tired from the carry, but two obstacles were immediately up next. First, there was an inverted wall. Because it was downhill, I was able to get a good running start and jump to grab the top without too much issue. From there, racers proceeded into a tent where we would face our first technical obstacle of the day, the Force 5 Rig. On my way over to the starting line, I had watched a few of the men come in and tackle this obstacle, and was a bit concerned at how challenging it appeared. It would definitely make or break a lot of people's attempts to keep their band. The Force 5 Rig featured a t-shaped grip that transitioned to a flat rectangular wide grip. From there, racers transitions to a wildly swinging wheel before moving back to a t-shaped grip and then a flat wide grip.


When I approached the Force 5 Rig, I tried to focus and calm myself. I'd been doing a lot of grip strength intensive exercises, and this is where that work could pay off. I climbed the platform so that I could reach up and grab the t-grip. It was a stretch but possible, which was a relief since looking at the rig before I was unsure if the reach would be too far for me. I was happy to see that it was not. In fact, NorAm did a fantastic job making it possible for shorter athletes like me to reach everything. (Note: I am 5 feet tall.) I give race director, Adrian Bijanada, and the OCR Champs team huge props for this. Thank you. I greatly struggled getting onto obstacles that I could have completed at OCRWC. At NorAm Champs, I was given the chance to test myself on these obstacle because the height was not a hindrance.

I took a decent swing, and I was on the rig. I opted for an underhand hold on the rectangular grip, an approach which had seemed to have the highest level of success. It worked. I swung immediately to the wheel, not wanting to lose momentum. From there, I grabbed the next t-shaped hold. I was a bit shaky, so I took a moment to steady myself and kip to get a good grab of the final, most challenging, rectangular grip. I held on with all my worth and smacked the bell. I had done it. I had completed an obstacle I legitimately did not think was possible for me. I felt weak with relief and so drained that I was nauseous for a spell. I walked and tried to regroup. This was still just the beginning of the race.

Up next was La Gaffe, an interesting obstacle with poles that racers had to hang on and move with the weight of their body. I had found this obstacle to be different and interesting at OCRWC and was glad it was at NorAm Champs. I got through without difficulty, knowing from experience, that the obstacle is a lot easier if you keep your center of gravity low on the pole.

I ran over to the low crawl that went up the hill. No fake barbed wire here -- this as the real stuff but not too low. I was quite curious about the next obstacle, Skitch. It had been the focus of much social media attention. I had carefully watched a video in which the NorAm crew talked about technique. Skitch featured two horizontal rods. Racers had to take hooks with straight handles and work them down one pole, while hanging from below, then transition to the second pole and move along it to a bell. In the video on the NorAm site, this obstacle seemed "do-able" but when I came to the obstacle, there was a mass of people in the re-try lane. The transition from the lower to the upper bar was quite challenging, and I had to give Skitch multiple attempts. I kept having my hook on the lower bar supporting the transition slip off. It was fairly hard getting both hooks off the high-up poles at my height, and I was worried about them crashing into my face. I tried Skitch about a half dozen times before I successfully made the transition -- practice made perfect, I guess. Rumors are that there were some injuries at Skitch, such as pinched fingers and people getting hit by falling hooks, so I might guess that this obstacle gets adjusted for tomorrow.

Next up was Skull Valley. This obstacle had bested me at OCRWC based on issues of height accessibility. As a result, I was beyond pleased to see that for NorAm Champs Skull Valley featured a low ring that I could step into so as to access the main Skull Valley obstacle. Turns out, Skull Valley, if you can get on it, is super fun and not too bad. I had a fun time swinging from skull-shaped hand-grips to some short monkey bars to another set of skull grips. Good times.

I was starting to feel as though I might have a chance to keep my band. All I needed was some focus, luck, and persistence. I still had some tough obstacles to go. I had a job to do. Up next was Trapeze, a fun rig featuring a trapeze, uneven monkey bars, and another trapeze. Just the kind of rig that I enjoy. I breezed through.

The stress of wanting to do well at this race had me breathing heavy, so I took a few minutes to walk and recollect myself as I headed to the rope climb. This was your standard rope climb, so I did the s-hook and worked my way up. From there, I headed over to Rig 1, which featured rings and a rope to low monkey bars to another set of four ropes, two of which had knots at the bottom. I took a brief rest on one of those knotted ropes to breath before swinging my way to the final bell.

From there I quickly came to the Floating Walls. This had been my highlight obstacle from OCRWC -- super fun! I made my way through.


As I came down the cargo net on the back on the Floating Walls, I saw Urban Sky. This was the last complicated rig of the day, and it was a doozy. Urban Sky had three sections, with breaks in between. The first section was a wheel to a ring to an angled wheel to a rope. I swag my way across and stopped to shake out my arms before doing the cork-screw section. The last section was the most challenging with a trapeze to two horizontal levers that angled with the weight of your body. I kipped to make a long reach to the last trapeze and hit the bell. I had done it. Urban Sky had bested me at OCRWC but this time it was no problem. I was so pleased. I knew I was going to keep my band, the culmination of almost a year of goal setting and training. I don't consider myself an emotional person, but I felt a bit choked up.


I raced over to Car Jacked, where I rolled my way over two wrecked cars. The last obstacle was in sight, The Knot, a slip wall with a rope. I dashed up and across the finish line. I couldn't believe it as the announcer shouted out about how I was a racer who had kept my band and finished 100% of the obstacles. Other than Skitch, I'd gotten them all on the first try.


Athletics loves to celebrate stories of people who have hard work pay off. It's great when that happens. That's what happened at the 3K race at NorAm Champs for me this year. But shouldn't we also celebrate the process? I learned a lot from the hard work that didn't pay off at OCRWC last year. Some days you win and some days you lose. The wins are great. The loses are not, and the kind of learning it provides isn't fun, but it can pay off. It helped me become very intentional this year with my training, something that I've found to be a joy throughout the process because the effort I put in feels like growth.


Tomorrow, I'll race the 15K course at NorAm Champs. Maybe it will be my day. Maybe it won't. But I'm excited, focused, and ready to give it my all.

Monday, August 6, 2018

Ragnar Trail Vermont 2018

"We experienced some next level Noah's Arc shit this weekend, so how is it even possible that I have a sunburn?" I posted on Facebook to the NES Ninja Trail group page the afternoon after getting home from Ragnar Trail Vermont. My teammates agreed -- nothing could sum up the weekend better.


2018 was my third running Ragnar Trail with the NES Ninjas (and the team's fourth year in existence). This year, for the first time since Ragnar Trail came to New England, the event was not at Northfield Mountain in Northfield, Massachusetts but instead at Mount Ascutney in West Windsor, Vermont.

Ragnar Trail is much like the road relay version. You put together a team of your friends -- eight folks in this case (versus 12 for the road version). Over the course of around 36 hours, you'll all take turns running. For the road relay, you do a point-to-point race, with different racers running different distances based on ability. The nice thing about Ragnar Trail is that there's no point-to-point aspect. Instead of following your runner in a van, you're camping out. However, each runner has to run the same distance. There are three different loops of trails that each participant must tackle -- a red long loop, a yellow mid-distance loop, and a green short loop. The elevation change and degree of technical trail running tend to correspond to the color of the loop as well, with red having the most elevation and technical elements and green having the least. For Ragnar Trail Vermont, the red loop was around 1,782 feet of elevation and 7.2 miles, the yellow loop was 1,064 feet of elevation and 4.5 miles, and the green loop was 731 feet of elevation and 3.1 miles. Based on a runner's order they ran on their team, which trail they tackled first would vary; however, everyone had to be able to run 14.8 miles, total, and tackle all that elevation. In terms of the order I would run, I was tackling red, yellow, then green. The last two years I had run yellow, green, red, making this a nice change.



Many members of the Ninjas opted to head up and camp out Thursday night because of the 8:00 a.m. start time. I chose to wake up early on Friday and make the hour and 45 minute trek. On my way in, I nearly drove past the parking lot and had to double back. Parking was a bit of an odd situation, occurring in the yard in back of a person's house. The volunteers seemed a bit confused since I had arrived early before any word from Ragnar HQ. I soon realized that the parking was not as close to the venue as we were used to in Northfield, where I could park and easily walk my gear up the hill. Nope; not here. I was going to have to drive over to the venue, drop off my stuff, drive back to park, and then take a shuttle back to the venue again. Kind of a drag, but it worked. I dropped for my tent, sleeping bag, and bags at base camp, said a quick, "Hello," and headed back to parking. There I paid the $10 fee, parking my car towards to the top of the hill. At that point it was after 7:00 a.m. and shuttles were running and volunteers had been briefed. This worked fine for me but didn't work so well for my teammates that arrived super early on Friday so as to get organized before the race started. Ragnar HQ had moved everyone's start time up and hour, in anticipation of bad weather, but the parking situation was not adjusted. This meant that members of my team were forced to trek on foot the distance from the parking lot to the venue. Not cool.

The set-up in Vermont was a fair bit different than what we were used to from Massachusetts. The main Ragnar transition and festival area was located at the top of a small hill, with the camping area arranged in what must normally be a gravel parking lot located below. The camping area was all dirt, not grass like in Northfield, and a bit more cramped than we were used to. Nevertheless, Ragnar HQ had been kind enough to give the multiple New England Spahtens teams that were at Ragnar Trail a shared area reserved just for us. Pretty good. I had been super lucky that fellow NES member, Amy had put my tent together while I was away sorting out my car. I merely had to drop my gear inside, and I was all good to go. My team had done their check-in while I was away, since I was the last to arrive. The group was fairly similar to last year, comprised of Jess, Jeff, Shaina, Josh, Roger, Bobby, Kelly, and me. Kelly was a new addition, and a welcome one -- she was fantastic on our Ragnar Cape Cod team in May. Jess's brother, Geoff, was there as our official volunteer. He was also filling in on one of Josh's runs. Alas, Josh had gotten himself a stress fracture during a recent half marathon attempt and was on the DL. Jeff would be running Josh's long red loop, Geoff was doing the middle length run, and Josh planned to try his shortest run on the green loop.

At around 7:45 a.m., all of us organized, the NES Ninjas made our way up to the main festival area to see off our first runner, Roger. He was running first because he had to leave early on Saturday to make a wedding. The walk up to the festival area to cheer on Roger was my first time seeing how things were arranged. It struck me immediately how much more cramped everything was compared to Northfield yet again. The tents were fairly close together, and instead of having everything in a wide circle, there was a bit of a congested section with tents on either side. Over the course of the weekend, the area ended up not being quite as congested as I had feared, but visually the area was a bit less pleasing than Northfield. Other than that, the layout was similar. There were vendor tents from brands like RxBar and Salomon. There was the main transition tent where you'd go to switch out runners. Like usual, outside the tent was a screen where you'd get information about when your runner was a quarter mile from the transition area. (The trail had a sensor mat about a quarter mile out and a chip in the bib, which is how this information was transmitted). There was also a campfire area, a place to fill water bottles, a Ragnar merch tent, and a beer tent. Unlike in Northfield, the food was not part of the main area but was instead up another smaller hill. Portable bathrooms were beyond that.

Roger entered the transition tent and the rest of the team lined up along the outgoing trail to cheer him on. The race started promptly at 8:00 a.m., and we were on our way. The weather was super humid and overcast with some light rain -- more of a sprinkling at this point -- so we expected Roger in from his run in a little over half an hour.


I was scheduled as runner six this year, which meant that I wasn't slated to start running until around 12:50 p.m., if we stayed on pace. I had plenty of time to kill. I walked around the festival area a bit, and headed back to camp to organize my stuff in the tent and unpack the food I had brought to share with the team -- deluxe things like Cheez-its, peanut butter M&Ms, and Twizzlers. Our team's area was a good mix of spaces that allowed for group interaction and as-needed quiet time. Each member of our team had brought their own personal tent and Shaina had brought a large pop-up tent under which my teammates had arranged some chairs for sitting and chatting and a large table for us to store our shared food items.


I spent much of the morning hanging out and walking up to the transition tent now and again to welcome back folks after their runs. At about an hour before the time for my first run, I began to organize myself for the longest run of the weekend. I can knock out seven miles at at 9:45 pace fairly easily on the road, but on trails I was anticipating more like a 15:00 pace. That meant being on the trails for only a little under two hours. I wanted water and a snack for the journey. I changed into running tights, a tank, my good Darn Tough endurance socks, and my Altra Lone Peaks. I grabbed Nathan my hydration vest, threw some chomps in a front pocket and made sure to fill the water jugs that went on the front. (Forgive the pun but they are literally jugs that rest on your jugs if you're a women and have this hydration vest. The aesthetic leaves something to be desired, but the Nathan vest I has solved the chaffing problems of my former hydration backpack. It's comfortable and effective.) I had my gear, I was dressed appropriately, I'd had a light lunch. I was ready to go.

I headed up to the transition tent with my team. Right at the anticipated time, our team name flashed up on the board indicating that Jeff, who had run before me, was on pace. I went into the tent, grabbed a red wrist band to indicate I was tackling the red loop, and soon Jeff was there. We did our celebratory #teamchestbump, and I was on my way.

Immediately out on the trails I noticed a difference compared with Northfield Mountain. In Massachusetts, the trails that we had tackled where mostly designed for hiking with some mix of larger fire roads. The trails at Ascutney were all designed with mountain biking in mind. The big difference was that the hiking trails at Northfield went straight up the mountain, while the trails at Ascutney had lots of switchbacks and zigged and zagged up the mountain. This meant that I was able to keep up a decent pace along the first mile of the run, even as I was gaining elevation. Because the elevation was gradual via the switchbacks, I was able to trot along at a 13:20 pace for the first mile -- pretty good considering that we really climbed the mountain. At this point, the red and yellow trails were running in tandem, making me happy to consider that this section of trail seemed "do-able" for when I would run my overnight leg.

The red trail wandered into the woods, at some point splitting from the yellow loop, and took a steep turn up at the 2.5 mile mark, slowing me down from mile two to three. The section in the woods was lovely though with runners going past a small waterfall and across bridges. The trail continued relentlessly upward with switchbacks in a way that was starting to get a bit tiring. Unlike in Northfield, the trail never seemed to reach a peak and then descent along fast fire roads. Instead, we were on single track through the woods until almost the end.

At around the five mile mark, the light rain that had been keeping me from overheating for the entirety of the run turned heavy, and I could hear the pounding on the forest canopy. Soon the trail was wet, and seriously slow, enough to slow me down a bit in the last mile in the woods. I was also tired of all the switchbacks and stress on the ankles at this point. The trails were technical, followed by technical, followed by technical, making it hard to really make up time. I was thus immensely happy when we emerged from the trees and had a section of slight downhill through a massive meadow. The rain was really coming down, but I didn't care as I ran through the meadow at a 9:15 mile. I wanted to push and make up some time. I had posted that I would run 15:00 miles, and I was just a few seconds shy of that goal. I wanted to get my time down, and here was where I could do it. As I got wetter and wetter, I imagined how nice this section of trail would be in clear weather during an overnight run when the stars would be in evidence.

The red loop rejoined the yellow loop a little over half a mile out from the exchange. We did a few road crossings before heading back into the woods to make our way along another set of switchbacks (endless switchbacks). I skidded along on the wet ground. Where the trails joined and there was lots of traffic, things were already getting muddy. Fortunately, the end was in sight. I raced up the last hill, crossed the finish line, and made my way into the exchange tent having averaged 14:55 miles, despite adverse conditions.

There was Shaina, but, in her Dryrobe, she didn't look ready to go out for any trail running. A volunteer handed me a card. It turned out that while I was on out on the trails experiencing all the rain, a halt had been called to the race due to lightning that was spotted in the area. We were all told to clear out of the main festival area and wait two hours at our campsites. We would start again based on when we had come in, making our team off course until around 4:45 p.m. Major bummer.

I made my way back to the Ninjas' camp. I was soaked and hungry. Water was gushing down from up above and the camp had already become a flood. My tent was mercifully dry inside. I changed into clean clothing and left my muddy sopping wet shoes outside. At least the rain could wash the mud away. I put on flip-flops unwilling to sacrifice another pair of shoes at this point but grabbed my Dryrode so as least everything but my feet would be dry.

My team was hanging out in the pop-up tent. I snagged a chair and the box of Cheez-its and snacked while I watched my team hang an extra tarp up for additional sheltered area. The other ladies on my team also did some trenching to divert the water from the campsite. I am not sure if their Army Corp of Engineers-style labors paid off, but it certainly didn't hurt. Everything was moist. Water cascaded off the top of the tent in sheets as we waited.


4:45 p.m. came slowly, but at least I had the best people to hang out with. We passed the time chatting and snacking, staying sort-of dry under the tent. The rain continued. At the appointed time, we headed up to the transition. The all clear had already come. It was impossible to discern the nature of the announcements that Ragnar HQ made up at the festival from down at camp and there was basically no cell service for the Ragnar text updates, so we intuited this information based on seeing folks back on the trails. Ragnar had begun by releasing the teams whose start times were delayed by the hold, and we got to hold our place in lined based on my finish time.

After seeing Shaina off on her first run of the event, the rest of the team headed up the hill a ways to get our free Friday dinner. There were a number of food trucks serving items like mac 'n cheese, bean and avocado bowls, crepes, BBQ, and pizza. Definitely more options than at the Massachusetts event, where we were subjected to the subpar food of B.Good. I opted for a delicious black bean, quinoa, avocado bowl from Goatacado, which was so much better than what I had gotten at Ragnar Trail the past two years. We had also gotten coupons for free Ben & Jerry's ice cream, but the ice cream truck had gotten delayed by the weather -- no ice cream yet. I came back after 6:00 p.m. with Jeff to get a s'mores ice cream from the Ben & Jerry's folks after they arrived.

With the continuing rain and heavy foot traffic, the festival area was getting to be a bit of a mess with mud everywhere. Hanging out down at camp in the tents and not in the rain seemed desirable. Plus, it was getting late, and I was tired. I had gotten up before the sun and thought I'd get some rest before my yellow loop run. Originally scheduled for a little after 10:00 p.m., with the delay, I knew I wasn't going to be running until after midnight if we kept on pace. I headed to my tent to get some shut-eye at around 8:00 p.m. Unfortunately, the deep bass of the music playing up at the festival was super annoyingly audible down at the camp and kept me awake for a little while. Knowing that people will take the opportunity to sleep when they can at irregular hours, I wish that events like Ragnar would keep the music at a minimum or, at least, at a more discrete level. When quiet hours started around 10:00 p.m., I fell asleep.


I got up a little before midnight to change and get ready for my night run. When I emerged from my tent to the continuing rain, I also received the news that we were behind schedule. Way behind. Trail conditions had gone from bad to worse. We were consistently losing 15 to 30 minutes per runner. Bobby was out on his long red loop and Jeff still had a green to go before I ran. I was looking at a start time of a little before 2:00 a.m., though things were pretty variable at this point. Nothing to do but wait.

As I waited, news trickled in. The yellow loop had gotten so bad a section had washed out, and the trail required a re-route, removing a quarter to a half mile of loop. At this point I didn't care. The rain continued, the conditions were abysmal. Any notion of keeping pace was out the window for me. I had to race the following weekend -- my goal race for the year, the North American OCR Championships -- and the new focus was on getting it done at Ragnar Trail and, most importantly, not getting hurt.

My team trekked up the mud slick that was the hill to the transition area to welcome in Bobby and see out Jeff. Time slowly ticked by. My rain coat leaked water. My feet squelched in my sopping sneakers.

The NES Ninjas were fortunate in that no one on our team got hurt during Ragnar Trail. Bobby came in safely and Jeff went out, vowing to do the green loop in just over half an hour, something which, I am aghast to report he succeeded in doing. I have no idea how. My turn was up. Time for an hour run in the woods at 2:00 a.m. in the rain through the mud. This was crazy.

I headed out along the section of trail that winded its way up the mountain. I slid like a skater on ice. All of the switchbacks were slightly angled, running perpendicular to the mountain, and I kept sliding down to the lower side of the trail. Moving at much more than a jog -- sometimes moving at even a walk -- was incredibly challenging. I was relieved to enter a section of woods where I could do some light running. Visibility was poor as the rain reflected in my headlamp, meaning I see the ground right in front of me and not much more. I kept the pace slow. At any moment one could hit a patch of mud and go flying or slip and fall down off the trail.

Because runners had been held, the trail was much better populated than what I was used to in Northfield, a welcome change considering conditions. With the poor visibility, I am uncertain of exactly what terrain I covered or where the re-routed section of trail was, though there was a bit of trail that seemed more leaf-covered than the rest and less heavily tracked. With about a mile to go, the yellow loop headed into the field where I had been able to speed along on the red loop. The yellow loop had a set of switchbacks through the field, which slowed thing down a bit, as did the increased mud, but I was able to make my way along at around 10:15 miles for a spell. I just wanted to get this done safely, and was happy to tick along some distance at a decent pace. I was averaging something like 17:20 miles. Considering I was going to run a bit less than anticipated distance wise, it would all even out.

I merged onto the joint red and yellow trail section that comprised the end of the loop and took a complete wipe-out into the mud. I wasn't hurt, but I was entirely covered in wet earth. Could be worse. I made it across the finish line in just over 55 minutes, pleased to be done and uninjured. I told Shaina to take it easy; conditions were far from ideal.

We headed back to camp where I cleaned up the best I could with wipes, changed into pajamas, and got into my tent. Everything felt moist beyond belief, but the tent wasn't leaking, and I was as dry as I was going to get. I fell asleep at around 3:45 a.m. and slept until a little after 6:00 a.m. when the sound of even louder pounding rain on my tent woke me up. Additionally, there was activity going on at the Ninjas' campsite. I emerged from my tent to see Jeff running through the downpour to the pop-up.


Ragnar had issued a new plan. Teams were falling farther and farther behind and trail conditions were getting worse and worse. Similar to 2016 we would be doubling, even tripling (!), up to run our loops. Rodger was out on his last loop. From there, Jeff, Jess, and Kelly would all tackle the red loop. Then it would be time for the green loop crew. I had been planning to run Josh's green loop for him, as he couldn't participate in such adverse conditions with his stress fracture. However, I couldn't double up with myself, so Jeff and I would be running together. Finally, Bobby and Shaina would bring us home with their last pass of the yellow loop.

Other teams took other options. Apparently, Ragnar HQ told teams that at 9:00 a.m., if they wanted, they could say, "We're done," pick up their medals, and leave. I can see the appeal of this. We had been suffering through the most persistent terrible weather for the last day and a half. But the NES Ninjas wanted to finish what we started. We were going to run our legs, each person covering all the distance we had set out to cover. With doubling and tripling up, were were on schedule to finish a little before 1:00 p.m., only about an hour after our originally predicted finish time. In fact, according to post-race reports, only one team managed to finish the race without any doubling or tripling up of runners.

As the Ninjas sent out Jess, Jeff, and Kelly, other teams were beginning to pack-up. With this new development came some distressing news. People were unable to get their cars out of the field where they had parked the night before. Roger had gone to get his car immediately after finishing his last run, having to get packed and to eastern Massachusetts for a wedding. An hour went by and then two, and he had not returned. Cars trickled into the camping area to pick up gear. After two and a half hours or so, Roger finally reappeared. The parking lot was a disaster. Construction equipment had been called in to lay down gravel, but it was just sinking into the mud. There were multiple tow trucks trying to drag cars out of the ground. It had slowed people getting out of the parking area to a sluggish rate. We helped pack Roger up and get him on his way. Now there was nothing to do but finish the race and hope that we could get out of the parking lot later. At least, with other teams leaving early, we'd have an easier time of it and less traffic.


Soon it was time to head up to the transition area for my last run of the race, the green loop with Jeff. He and I had a tradition of running together at Ragnar Trail after our epic run of the red loop in 2016, and I was looking forward to, if nothing else, running with Jeff again. The threesome of Jess, Jeff, and Kelly arrived on schedule. At this point the rain has mostly stopped leaving damaged trails but at least the promise of a dry run (minus my feet, spending their third run in my soaking wet shoes -- I had brought multiple pairs, but it would have made zero difference if I changed because the course was incredibly wet, so I opted to not trash a second set of sneakers).

The NES Ninjas headed into the transition tent, dropping off Jess and Kelly. Jeff and I were off. We headed out at a modest run, slipping on the trail. Jeff had just run for a few hours and was going to be tackling yet another run. I was impressed at his endurance and mental focus. We chatted as we headed up the mountain. The course was absolutely demolished, necessitating a lot of walking. My feet and ankles ached from the constant uneven terrain and dragging myself through the mud. It was nice to have company for the final trudge.

The green loop meandered up the mountain opposite the red and yellow trails, more or less staying on the front of the mountain along the open slopes instead of delving too deeply into the woods. The small sections of woods were pleasant with small streams. In better conditions, I can imagine Ascutney is a nice place to spend time.

In our last half a mile or so, we headed down the mountain and looped around the camp site, almost circumnavigating the area (and -- super weird -- coming upon a woman allowing her toddler to defecate directly to the side of the trail with the excuse that the child "didn't like porto-potties"). At the very end, the green loop met up with the other two trails, coming in from the opposite direction and took us up the hill to the transition where we handed off to the last group, Shaina and Bobby. I was glad to be done and couldn't wait to change into some dry shoes.

With Shaina and Bobby slated to be out on the trail until a little before 1:00 p.m., I took the next 1.25 hours to change, pack my gear, and eat a super yummy vegetable crepe from Skinny Pancake. The rain had finally finally finally stopped, and I was going to make the most of the time I had to organize myself. Kelly and Geoff had to depart early, like Roger, leaving Jess, Jeff, and Josh with me to welcome in Shaina and Bobby. We were getting ready to head up to meet them for the finally group run across the finish line when I heard a shout from up the hill. Ack!!! Shaina and Bobby had arrived ahead of schedule. I off-roaded in my attempts to get up the hill as fast as I could to join them, with the rest of the team along with me. Together, the group of six of us ran across the finish line for the last time. We had faced the most displeasing of conditions but had persisted and organized as a team. We had done it!

I am pleased to say the next bit of this tale is a bit anti-climatic. Following our finish, the group of us were easily able to get shuttles to the parking lot where I got my car out without any difficulties. There were several tow trucks and construction equipment laying gravel when I arrived. This seems to have made things better. The field was dug up from the cars trying to get our earlier -- trashed like the course -- but with the decreased vehicular traffic, there was no problem getting out at around 1:30 p.m. I quickly packed my car and said my good byes to the team.

We had experienced quite the adventure over the last 30 hours, run many miles, endured miserable weather, slept a limited number of hours, and were still friends. Was Ragnar Trail Vermont the most excellent experience I wanted it to be? Certainly not. There were logistical issues, though I think Ragnar HQ tried to do their best under challenging circumstances. Regardless, the new venue seems a step down from Northfield, where I hope Ragnar Trail can return in 2019. But would I do the race again? 100% yes. And that's entirely because of the fabulous members of the NES Ninjas. As is the case with Ragnar under all circumstances -- ideal or not -- , the team makes or breaks your experience. I'm lucky to have found some folks that I enjoy having around year after year. So, yes, the countdown to 2019 is on.


(Photo credits: Jeff Wohlen)