Snowshoe the Bear 10 km

So I ran the first running of Snowshoe the Bear 10K up in Big Bear in the San Bernardino Mountains today. It's not an ultra, it's not running really, it wasn't even 10K, more like 12K, but hey, even little side trips on a journey can have value, no? I woke up early; on top of the world. The morning started out simply delicious. But, somehow I got my old butt up to the race 5 minutes before the close of packet pickup and not in the best frame of mind, to say the absolute least. I'm so darn confused. 'nuff said. When I first saw this event posted at Equada Outfitters I had envisioned packs of runners chasing bears, roping them, and applying snowshoes to them much as the cowboys branded cattle during the 1800s. I dig country music but that's as country as this cowboy gets, no roping or riding here. Well, umm, oh, never mind. Standing around the start line where literally the street ended and the snow began, I noticed a lot of ultra shirts. Of course, they noticed the rundown shirt I was wearing and that created more topic for conversation than I would have guessed. Remember, I wasn't exactly on top of my game getting to the race so I fumbled my way through these greetings as best I could. I met a really friendly couple from the VDP and another guy from just down the hill who all said they had heard of the SCTH and were interested in joining if they didn't have to drive very far. Of course, I gave them the quick rendition of "the hermit from Hemet" spiel and that seemed to convince them it would be worth their while. There were others who came from as far away as Mexico, Brazil, and Portugal just to run this race. So, we were told to shuffle our way up to the start line for the countdown, but, then began the longest rendition of where to go and what to look for I have ever heard. "...and then after the third tree on your left you'll come to a fork in the trail with ribbons and an arrow. You'll want to take the..." AAhhhhhh!
I was really becoming irritated by all this, I just wasn't my usual happy-go-lucky self; grouchy old man. It's a 10K for crying out loud. We'll follow the arrows. How lost could we possibly get? So, when he finally finished, a cheer went up, a go was heard, and we were off - and all hell broke loose. If you've never seen what a single pair of snowshoes can do to snow when its occupant is running, you're really missing out. It's not like what you see on TV (I may not watch them, but I have it under good authority that this is so), where someone is strolling along with sticks gently placing one foot in front of the other; so quaint. No, when one runs sticks FLY and snow FLIES. Now, multiply that by some large number. I'm scheduled to have the stick that's embedded in my left thigh removed next Wed. The owner of that stick ran the entire course looking like a three-legged horse cursing to the high heavens the unfairness of it all. I thought it was a friendly enough gesture on my part. I saved her from having to carry that extra two pounds of weight for the entire course. Actually, I broke it off just above the surface of the skin so it wouldn't catch on anything and so I didn't look like one of those bulls that get tortured in Spain; running along with sticks jutting out. Now me, I wasn't allowed to have sticks, outside of the one holstered in my leg; something about not being part of my parole agreement or something. Hey, I'm all for sticks when I eat my sushi with lots of wasabi, but when it comes to running, ain't nothing coming between me and the trail but my two little old feet - and those blasted snowshoes. Now, I have unusually wide feet 8 1/2 4E, the 4E isn't like 4F in the army, exemption due to mental or physical disability. It means I have feet that look attractive to ducks. So now add on an extra 3 or 4 inches in all directions for the snowshoe and you get the picture. When you first try this you look and feel like John Wayne after a long ride; bowlegged and wide. However, once you have the hang of it you really can get a good clip going and you don't have to go so wide. You just have to remember to avoid one foot with the other as you go. I forgot this twice and found that the location of my head and arms had switched with that of my feet. No, LT, you can't run this one on your head like a pogo stick. A good way to practice without snowshoes would be to just leave your laces untied as you run and try not to trip. As I sit here I'm reminded of the chunks of snow and ice that are still embedded in my forehead and the back of my neck - an additional consequence of flying debris. It is currently melting out of my forehead and dripping into my coffee cup each time I take a sip. For the longest time I thought the guy behind me was throwing snow at me. I couldn't figure out why. But, it was like ding dong ditch. Every time I looked back there he must have been running over to hide behind a tree because I saw no one. It turns out the snow from my snowshoes was kicking up and flying across my backside, my back, the back of my neck, and clear up to the top of my head. It also kept getting into my open hand. I ended up running with one hand clenched in a fist, the other carrying my bottle. Yeah baby, angry runner under way. Viva la revolucion! I managed to come in 6th place. The three men and two women ahead of me and the woman behind me all got some really nice prizes. I got jack. If you've never gone snowshoeing, I highly recommend it. It is really good training for hill climbing and, of course, allows you to go up to some higher elevation during the Winter months. One word of advice, be careful of what snowshoes you wear, I have two large blisters across the back of my heels that were bleeding through my shoes when I went running to the top of San Gorgonio after the race. I needed the escape to clear my mind. Now I need a blood transfusion to replace the lost blood.