This post is written by Jackie Ayers, a BAMRbassador + mom of two in Bend, Oregon, who regularly contributes to our blog. She’s written two Portland Marathon race reports for us.
When the announcer said GO at 8 a.m., 232 other racers and I did a slow shuffle across the start line of the Haulin’ Aspen Half-Marathon. We hit “start” on our GPS watches, turned the corner, and started up a dusty, rutted-out hill that seemed to go straight up to the blue sky—or we assumed it was still blue: We couldn’t see it through the dust.
This was my inaugural trail race experience. (Spoiler alert, I loved it!) The morning was sunny with no smoke, a near-miracle for central Oregon in August. Having completed a handful of half and full marathons in recent years, I knew I was ready for the distance, but was I prepared for the terrain? My ankles have always been a weak point, and I knew I’d need to watch every footfall to protect them.
We went up and through the trees. The first few miles were easy, and I felt sure-footed as I carefully leapt over rocks and tree roots. The course covered a mix of Forest Service roads and mountain bike trails, a new and welcome challenge. However, my pace slowed considerably as the course became more technical and virtually disappeared during sections of the final miles. I carefully walked and sometimes hopped over rocks during what I fondly called my mountain-goat section.
The views of the mountains and forests were breathtaking, and with the slight breeze coming through the trees, it was easy to see why people fall in love with trail running. I only stumbled and stubbed my toes on rocks twice, which felt like a pretty rare occurrence.
However, no matter how lovely, by mile 12.5, I was ready to cross the finish line and peel off my hydration vest. As I approached the finish line, people started appearing in the forest along the trail. Was I hallucinating a rare form of forest fairy? No, they were remnants of the finish line cheer squad for the speediest runners. Until their appearance, I hadn’t noticed the lack of spectator support—these folks seemed so out of place in the woods. Upon reflection, it was a noticeable difference from the road races I typically participate in. While I didn’t miss the cheering section, it did make the experience feel more like a typical weekend long run than a medal-worthy achievement.
My personal goal is to always sprint to the finish. It was a little tougher this time, as I worried about each footfall on the uneven ground. Still, I stuck to tradition and bounded across the finish line, hearing the announcer say, “Jackie Ayers coming across the finish line looking strong!”
Once you go trail it’s difficult to do road races anymore- congrats ! Ny favorite trail ‘race’ was my Grand Canyon crossings/double crossing. Still fresh in my memory!