Steeplechase

Is there such a thing as a shrine chase?  Kind of like a traditional cross-country steeplechase except in a country that has shrines instead of steeples?

Yesterday I ran a wonderful race in Avigliano Umbro, a small town in the hills south of Todi.  It was the kind of race where you don't care about your time or even your place; finishing in reasonably good form is all you can hope for.

The race leaves Avigliano Umbro the most direct way, down a very steep gravel road.  And then over the next 14 km it climbs 500 feet, loses 600 feet and then gains another 300 feet to return you to town.  For you Atlantans, the most well-known hill in the Peachtree Road Race gains 150 feet.

Only the last 2 km are on paved surfaces.  The rest is on back-country roads normally traversed by farm vehicles and hikers.  The surface was optimistically called "breccia" (gravel).  The reality was a mix of washed-out gravel, larger stones that rolled under your feet, mud, grass, rock, sand, and lots and lots of water.

Water?  Well, the race had ideal conditions for the terrain: we departed in heavy rain and it continued to rain the entire duration of the race.  Anything with a slope had washed out gullies flowing merrily.  Any place flat had expanses of puddles.  And in places those puddle were really ponds.

I jumped puddles and dodged back and forth over the streams in the ruts for half the race.  But when the road leveled out along a high area halfway along I found that long, deep puddles filled the road from side to side and the terrain made it impossible to go around them.  There was nothing for it but to splash right through water up to my shins.  Over and over.

The downhills were adrenaline rushes.  This was a race, so you needed any speed you could get after grinding up the hills.  But running full speed down a steep, wet gravel road filled with ruts calls for faith in your legs to take it and for your eyes to spot places safe for your feet to land.  The worst downhill was diagonally across a pasture.  It had no gravel at all, and not enough grass to cover the mud.  Every foot strike was a slide and you were half expecting to end up flat on your back with one leg stuck out at a funny angle.

A very fun race!

Oddly enough my feet and every stabilization muscle below my waist are sore today.

Michael