By Bill Beaumont

On Friday, Sept. 10, the club hillbilly loaded up on Southwest 1016 to fly to Columbus, Ohio, to watch my Ohio State Buckeyes put a "beat down" on the Miami Hurricanes in an important early season football game. Before headin' up north, though, I got to thinkin' how nice a weekend it would be if I could find a race in that neck of the woods also. So, after some "cyberspace" research, I came across a cross country trail marathon about a two-hour drive from Columbus. Online registration complete and "I'm in"!

Sunday mornin' I showed up at East Fork Lake State Park, east of Cincinnati, for the Wild Cherry Loop Half Marathon. After my warmup, I headed to the starting line. The pre-race instructions from the race director went somethin' like this: "We had several bad storms in the area this past week. Lotsa' trees got knocked down on the trail. We pretty much got the first three miles of the trail cleared. After that, you are gonna' hafta' go over, under, and around some fallen trees. The course starts at the bottom of this hill. You run uphill on that asphalt road for a quarter mile, turn right at the top of the hill onto the trail for just short of 13 miles of mostly single track trails. You come outta' the woods on the opposite side of the road and run downhill about a quarter mile back here to the finish. Oh yea, there's lotsa' mud, rocks, roots and an elevation change of 520 feet from the lowest point on the course to the highest point, so be careful." Sounded more like an adventure race than a half marathon, but, "I'm all in"!!!

The pistol is fired and "we're off and runnin." I made up my mind early that I wanted to enter the trail near the front of the pack so I wouldn't hafta' deal with tryin' to pass a lotta' people on those single track trails. I probably overdid it on that quarter-mile climb on the road to start the race in my effort to stay with the leaders entering the woods. I wuz' wearin' my heart monitor for the race and at the top of the hill it wuz' showin' 160 beats a minute, and for a 53-year-old hillbilly startin' a half marathon, that's too fast! I entered the woods in eighth place, and decided to slow down awhile to git' my heart back down to about 150 beats a minute, which is where mine should be for a half marathon.

The first three miles were like the trails in Fort Clinch, but with MUCH more elevation change. It took about a mile, but I got my heartbeat slowed back to around 150, then I "locked down" on the effort level that I planned for the race. While I wuz' doin' that "mini recovery" early in the race, three folks passed me. Over the next several miles, I passed four people, including one of the folks who passed me while I slowed a little. Two of the folks that I passed (Andy and Dan) "tagged up" with me, and the three of us ran together for most of the rest of the race.

After the water stop about mile 3, things got REAL interesting. We descended several hundred feet down a single track trail to stream crossing No. 1. Across the creek, then a climb outta' the valley starts on the opposite side of the stream, only this climb is just about all mud! After climbing outta' the valley, ya' run along the ridge for a short time, then descend back into that same creek valley, slippin' and slidin' in mud just about the whole way down! The trail back down into the valley has lotsa' low overhead brush, which at one point knocked off my "John Deere" hat that I frequently run with. Before it hit the ground, Dan yelled, "I got the hat." A short time later, an arm reaches past my left ear with my hat. I thank Dan, and we keep on truckin'.

Across that rocky stream again, then climb outta' the valley again. At least the climb out this time is on dry ground. Ya' had rocks n' roots to deal with on the climb, but at least the hill wuz' dry. Mile 6 rolls by, and the big hills are behind ya.' The rest of the trails were once again like those at Fort Clinch, but, with gently rolling hills. I figured I wuz' in seventh place about mile 10, when Andy dropped off the pace. Dan was followin' me when we popped outta' the woods, and made the right turn onto to asphalt road. All that wuz' left was a quarter-mile run downhill to the finish line. Dan wuz' still tucked in behind me about halfway down the hill when I told him, "Don't feel obligated to follow me to the finish. I already got all I wanted outta' this race and if you wanna' sprint to the finish, have at it." Dan pulled out to my left, picked up the pace and ended up finishing three seconds in front of me.

After finishin' and coolin' down, I chatted with the race director/official timekeeper about the race. He told me the "casualty list" went as follows: One broken arm, one sprained ankle, one dislocated toe and two folks who came outta' the woods at the 3-mile water stop and said that they were NOT prepared for a race course like that!

My wheel man/good friend Ernie, who had been haulin' me around since I landed at the Columbus airport on Friday, was eyeballin' me at that point, and I could tell by the look on his face that he was concerned about a mud-covered trail runner hopin' into his car and headin' back to Columbus. I told Ernie to stay right here, I know how to fix the problem. I carry a "sweat towel" in my runnin' bag, so, I went back to Ernie's car and got it. I jogged back to Ernie, handed him the towel, and said "watch this." East Fork Lake was only about 100 yards from the finish line, so, after I handed Ernie my towel, me, my shoes, socks, and runnin' shorts ran to the lake and dived in for a "cool" hillbilly shower! Ernie was shakin' his head, but, he looked somewhat relieved!

The only thing left to do now was to dry off, drive back to Columbus, hop on the plane and head home to beautiful, tropical Yuuuuuuuleeeeeeeeee FL!!!

So, the next time you're out gittin' dirty, remember the words of the immortal Hulk Hogan:

Eat Right, Exercise and Say Yur' Prayers.

Bill