Saturday August 20

I have done a number of fun mountain running races this summer and I had been told that the last one on the schedule was one of the best. The Lost Lake Run. The Lost Lake trail is about a 16 mile one-way trail near Seward, Alaska. Linda and I hiked the trail in July. As I said then, it is one of the most beautiful runs in Alaska. The trail climbs for the first half of the race up to Lost Lake. The elevation gain is only a couple thousand feet so it is gradual enough to run the whole thing.

Photos from this race in the gallery.

I realized at the start that most of the top trail runners were not there. Must be saving up for the World Mountain Running Championships in Girdwood, Alaska in a couple of weeks. I started well and was running near the front for the first mile or two. Then the top two runners took it up a notch and I never saw them again. I was feeling good, so I passed the rest of our group and tried to lay my claim to third place early in the race. I dropped them all, but the climb was longer and harder than I anticipated. I began to tire as I reached Lost Lake, which was one or two miles from the top of the hill. The first woman began to close in on me. About 500 meters from the top she caught me. At this point, pride took over and I refused to let her go. I crested the top of the hill with her. From here it was all downhill to the finish, 8 more miles, and the legs on her 5′ 3″ frame were no match for my 6′1″ gait and I was able to break away quickly. Whew, I could relax - I wasn’t going to get ‘girled’ today. But I couldn’t relax too much because I knew I was not a great downhill runner on uneven terrain and others would start closing in. Sure enough, with about four miles to go, a guy came flying by. I was starting to resign myself to 4th place, but then I realized that he was not getting away from me as quickly as he had caught up. I was hanging tough. For the next three miles I kept him in sight. With a mile to go, the trail emptied onto a road. Once again, I was able to put my long legs to use. I was feeling strong and I picked up my pace and quickly closed the gap. At this point there was only one problem - I didn’t know where the finish line was. There I was preparing for a sprint finish, but without any idea when it would start. The road was winding and I couldn’t see more than 50 meters ahead. I stayed shoulder to shoulder with him and waited for any clue: a quickening of his pace, the sound of spectators, the sound of the main highway nearby, anything. At one point we deviated from the road and dropped down a trail towards a firehouse. I knew the post-race party was at the firehouse, so I gambled and dropped the hammer. I got a good jump on him and immediately began to worry that I had misjudged. But just then, I rounded a corner and the spectators and finish line came into view. I finished third.

I was feeling pretty good about my third place when my friend Scott McArt, who had raced last year, but not this year, asked me my time. When I told him, he replied, “Nice job, that might have gotten you a top ten finish last year.” Ouch. Like I said, the fast guys weren’t there.