The Merrimack River Trail Race is a fast course. I'd heard as much, and it's no lie. I wish I were as fast as that course.

Results are up here. 

The MRTR is a well-established race - this was the 16th annual - and it's part of a couple different series, so it draws a decent crowd.

The race starts at the back of a hotel parking lot, which is a whole lot better than it sounds. There's plenty of parking, and it's about two minutes off I-93.It's 10 miles, out and back, along (of course) the Merrimack River in Andover, Mass. The usual bottleneck at the start was compounded by wide swath of deep mud, traversed by narrow wooden boards. I chose the mud. The rest of the course was pretty dry, excepting the rivulets crossing the trail here and there, feeding the river.

The weather was gorgeous, a clear and sunny interlude between storms. I'd guess it was nearly, but not quite, 40F at the start. There was a pretty stiff breeze blowing during most of the race. It felt like a headwind both ways, out and back, so it must have been a crosswind.

There were two self-serve water stations, one at the turn around and another about halfway to it. I didn't carry my own, so I needed them.

I had told myself, the night before and again that morning, that I should take it pretty easy out there. It took me all week to recover from N. Nipmuck, and I hope to run a strong race at Muddy Moose next weekend. So, I told myself to stick to a fast training pace.

Once I'm off and running in a crowd, though, I just can't help but want to run harder. It's what I've come to like about racing; I'm too lazy to push that hard on my own.

In retrospect, I think that carbo-loading with pizza and beer might have been a poor choice. I know I had a little too much coffee that morning, too, because some of it came back up! I must resolve to eat healthier. More good advice.

I finished at 82 minutes, not so well as I'd like. On the bright side, I felt good afterward. Unlike the last race, I was able to walk around without pain, and stretch out. I hung out a bit longer than usual at the finish, snacking on some really outstanding chili. There were bagels, cookies and peanut butter, too, and race director Stephen Peterson raffled off all sorts of goodies after hollering out all the awards. He kept thanking everyone for coming out, and he seemed genuinely grateful. I find that backwards, in a way. Those of us running the race are the ones who should be thanking the people who do all the work to make it possible. I appreciate it. I blasted around on my Triumph for a few hours afterward, squeezing in a ride between snow storms. I stopped for a wee dish of mint-chip ice cream at Doc Davis, and streched, too, but I had no problems with cramping in my legs. I almost feel as though I could go out and run again right now, in fact. I think I'll have some more pizza instead, though.

Here's another account of the race, and another, both on Cool Running.