Mud-fest in Forest Park. Never ever ever have I regretted my choice of shoes more. Toed the line in fucking road flats, being a complete idiot. Of course it was raining, for about the fifth day in a row in Portland, because it rains a great deal here. But the pictures I saw online showed dry trails so of course I figured that's what they'd be when I got there. Knew within a few minutes of the gun that it wasn't going to be pleasant, and this was before the twisty turny roller coaster nature of the course really exhibited itself. No chance of even running much less running fast on some of the descents. The main descent at the 6 mile mark was second only to Mt. Toby in terms of sheer terror and fear of breaking a bone. At Mt. Toby it was my ankles I was worried about while here it was my back, leg or skull. Despite the slippery footing climbing went reasonably well but the course was out and back so what went up eventually went back down. After the bulk of the climbing was done by 8 miles I knew I was a sitting duck and sure enough two guys passed me in the final half hour or so of the race. I'm reasonably convinced I would have been too far out of reach for at least one of them with the right shoes. In general, had the course been dry and/or I'd been wearing appropriate footwear the quality of the experience would have increased dramatically because the trails were indeed spectacular despite the curves and adverse camber. Despite the fact I work on balance and core strength somewhat regularly, fell five times. One of them a textbook pop-up slide into home plate that I executed perfectly barely losing any time but the others were far uglier. Predictably, mood turned to frustration then anger the final half hour. I wasn't even breathing hard at the finish line since I was unable to get moving on the descents. Sprinting on the very few short flat and straight stretches, then right back to tip-toeing my way around corners and down mud gullies. Live and learn.
A Beaten Man. Clock is off, by about 21 minutes or so. Blood flowing from the left knee. Shirt won't be white any more either, oops.