Buck Mountain Half Marathon

On October 13, 2012 I ran a local half marathon in the small town of Free Union, Virginia.  Though the course was challenging, it was not much more challenging then any other stretch of roadway in central Va.  That is, it was hilly as any half marathon that you will come across, however it was not as menacing as its title might imply (The Buck Mountain Half Marathon).  This race was named for its panoramic views of the beautiful Buck Mountain sitting off in the distance, as opposed to a 13.1 mile race that climbs said mountain :-).

 This race intrigued me a bit with a certain level of mystery.  I learned about it only 6 days prior while at a rainy pre-sunrise Sunday run.  It was brought up in casual conversation.  I learned the needed details (place and time) at a bit of a runner's social breakfast.  The curious thing is that when I searched for more details online, I found nothing indicating the race would even happen in 2012.  However I did learn that it was a race that had been going on for nearly a decade and that the race course had been fairly competitive with more than respectable times. It amped me up.  It was as if I had stumbled upon a secret by-invitation-only race that has featured some pretty fast runners.  Adding to the mystique was no entry fee, no t-shirt, and no medals.  This race was just about the race, no frills.  Just a pure old-fashioned foot race.

I showed up at 5:30 am for a 6:30am race.  The rural town of Free Union and its surrounding area was unlit.  The parking lot was a farmers field, roughly a half mile from the starting line.  People in the know showed up with head lamps, so I made nice with a few of them as they progressed to the starting area.

Once we arrived at the starting area the down-and-dirty no frills sense of the race was reinforced.  The starting line was a single line of white chalk spanning the width of the road.  There were no bibs and no timing mechanisms.  They announced that the course was measured accurately, and that we would be responsible for keeping our own times.  No results would be recorded.  The organizer likened it to a training run on steroids.  Though there was no bag check.  I had a bag and some warming gear to strip out of (due to a 34 degree start temp), so I asked the organizer about options for leaving it.  He offered to ferry it to the finish line.  Then, he called us to the starting area, wished us all a good run, and said good bye.

One person and I shot off into the darkness and ran parallel for roughly half a mile before I spoke to him, asking a simple question.  What are you gunning for today?   He replied, "1 hour 22 minutes."  I knew that he was my only competition and that if he was serious about that time then he was above my caliber.  It would be foolish for me to press the issue of a race.  So rather than pressing beyond my sustainable pace, I let him drift away and expected that I would manage a second place finish at best.

The sun was peeking over the horizon and began to reveal a silhouette of the mountains sitting in the distance. The view across the mist covered fields of this horse farming community was intense, almost enough to completely distract from the difficulty of the rolling hills running throughout this course.

In mile three I began to hear footsteps.  They trailed me for quite sometime, but without a doubt they were gaining on me. By mile four I had a new companion to run parallel with.  I learned that he had grown up in Africa.  We traded a bit of background and made idle chat about the enjoyable course that we were sharing.  He noted that I was not wearing my watch and offered to call out my time for me if he was at the finish prior to me.  He was a strong runner, a cut above me enough that he stopped at the self service water stops as I breezed on.  He did this three times catching me each time.  Around mile seven he began attacking the hills very aggressively.  It was clear that he was ready to create some separation.  I have not raced such a short race in a while and I am accustomed to preserving my energy and waiting for a later moment to truly exert myself.  I did not choose this moment to pursue.

Once again the race was just me and the scenery.  Colorful foliage, the occasional horse, distant mountains, rolling terrain, and fencing that went on for miles.  I pressed forward, passing mile nine with a sense of urgency.  I felt my pace was solid and it was time to become a bit more aggressive to try to beat my PR of 1 hour 35 and change.

I felt no pain and realized that I had too much left in the tank. I had waited too long; I would not meet my potential, but I still felt I could manage a PR.  I pressed solidly through the last miles of the race and heard my buddy from mid-race call my time: 1 hour 36 minutes 49 seconds (not a PR).  I was the third person across the line :-) and had run a respectable time.  

Like the rest of the race the finish was a non-event, just a chalk line that indicted the finish and a handfull of runners milling about and supporting the other runners as they finished their runs.

This race was a truly beautiful course, it had a good level of difficulty and felt like a race that was put on for the sake of giving runners a chance to race. I would do this one again, and I would pay for the privilege to ensure its future existence.

 I would like to thank The Charlottesville Track Club for hosting this exceptionally low key, yet awesome, event.

I would also like to thank the good folks from Ragged Mountain Running Shop for their tireless efforts in support of this event and the runners of the community.

The Buck Mountain Half marathon was a good race for me and it has upped my confidence at this distance. I now feel comfortable with taking a more aggressive approach in my next 13.1 mile outing.