A Trail Race
It's Saturday on the morning of December 2, 2023, and I'm toeing the line for a foot race for the first time since November of 2021. Two years ago I was on a mission to knock out my first hundred miler before I turned 40. This race day is very different. No training. No race-deay prep. And no significant travel other than a bit of a drive up north. Just a weighted backpack over a blue Champion sweatshirt I received for finishing the Rocky Racoon 50 miler long ago weeks before officially becoming a father.
The "race" plan is to keep things chill for a 10 mile hike with friends. While I hadn't planned on entering any races for at least several more months, a few friends had invited me to join them in hiking the Isle du Bois 10 miler put on by Blaze Trail Running. Since I had recently been working on building my fitness back up through weighted hikes and have a hard time saying no to outdoor adventures, I thought this would be a good opportunity to get a decent workout while exploring an area I've been meaning to check out for quite some time.
My only mistake was assuming that I would actually get the leisurely hike I desired. Accustomed to moving through trails fairly quickly, my friends didn't have the same desires of a chill hike through the woods as I did, and we ended up hauling fucking ass through the woods – at least, as much as you can without actually running.
I'm still perplexed as to how one walks as fast as they managed. I, unlike the others, had to periodically jog just to keep up.
There's a video out there somewhere where a little girl is running by the camera in a race. The mom calls out "Come on Harper, you can do it!" and the girl responds with "I'm trying! ... I've got little legs!" This sums up my thoughts throughout the race even though I do not, in fact, have little legs.
The weighted backpack did not help my pace, but it most certainly helped my fitness. Though, while the idea was to make my hike more difficult to account for the lack of running, in retrospect, it probably wasn't necessary.
I would have loved to stop and make detailed photographs of all of wonderful scenery along the trail, but had to settle for quick snapshots in order to keep up with my friends. I was trying, just like Harper in that video. I did my best, and I'm happy with the results.
It was a lovely morning, as seen from this photograph. A sky full of clouds are reflected on the calm surface of the pond, with nearby trees showing the changing colors of leaves weeks if not days before they finally fall. The area is filled with Quercus stellata (Post Oak), one of my favorite species of oak trees.
When not in the woods, these mowed portions through pockets of prairie make it much easier to move through the natural landscape without having to forge one's way through tall-grasses and forbes.
On Race Training
As for the race itself, this perhaps marks a change in the way I'm training for longer races in the future. As mentioned earlier, this was the first race I had entered in over two years, and I had since been exploring a change in training methodologies. The last great adventure was at the Rio del Lago in California, 100 miles on very little running leading up to the race. Too little, in fact, and recovery took a lot longer than I would have liked.
This project, Dallas Rambler, serves multiple purposes, and one of them is to explore how consistent weighted-backpack hikes through the city translates to endurance racing.
My theory is that, at least for my goals of merely finishing super-long endurance events with a reasonable recovery period, three-hour hikes under a reasonable load are more beneficial than longer runs in the same amount of time, given a similar heart-rate throughout. Running is still necessary, but not to the detriment of miles and time under load. Zone two heart-rate training with two weekly 45 minute runs along with one 90 minute weekly run at the same effort will offer all of the run-training necessary to meet my goal. This, in combination with functional strength work and yoga should be enough to complete 250 miles in Arizona on foot within five days. At least, in theory.
To test this methodology in full, I have my sights set on the Cocodona 250, using the 125 as a pre-test test. It's very much looking like the 125 will happen in 2027, with the 250 then scheduled for 2028. But first, I must consistently achieve 30-50 miles a week of urban adventure with a weighted backpack before I believe this sort of training will pay off for ultra-marathons.
Here you can see the pink Blaze Trails flag and my friends ahead of me. This was my view for the majority of the race, trying my best to enjoy the company while also enjoying the beautiful changing colors of late fall.
Isle du Bois
Opened in 1993, the Isle du Bois Unit of Ray Roberts Lake State Park sits on the south side of the lake within Denton County. There are over 20 miles of trails to explore throughout this mix of Eastern Cross Timbers and Blackland Prairie ecoregions.
Discovered in the 1980s during gravel quarrying, the nearby world-famous Aubrey Clovis site is one of the oldest late-Pleistocene sites in North America, containing well-preserved fauna remains and artifacts of the Clovis people who inhabited the region 11-12,000 years ago.
This is a photo of the lake, actually a man-made reservoir providing water to several local counties. The 29,000 acre Lake Ray Roberts is one of 22 reservoirs on the Trinity River, where the Trinity River Basin serves as the primary water source for Dallas-Fort Worth and Houston – the two most populated metro areas of Texas. The trail swings out to the lake for a while, serving as a nice change in scenery from the woodlands and prairie.
Large swaths of native grasses like Schizachyrium scoparium (Little Bluestem) and a host of other plants I didn't have time to identify fill areas between the woodlands.
Isle du Bois is one of nine units of Ray Roberts Lake State Park, and one of three units that offers recreation and overnight facilities. "Isle du bois" is French for "island of trees" which I think from the photos you might agree is an appropriate name for the area.
The deer in the background look to be enjoying a mid-morning meal. But the land shown here looks very different than the rest of the photos, doesn't it? I suspect this to be private land that is managed much differently than that managed by Texas Parks and Wildlife. The lack of leaves and understory plant-life feels unnatural to me.
One plant I'd like to mention (but not really pictured here), is Chasmanthium latifolium (Inland Sea Oats). I'm pointing this plant out for a good reason. Why? Because so many people ask what they can grow in the shade in their residential landscapes. And as the Native Plant Society of Texas mentions, Inland Sea Oats (Chasmanthium latifolium) is the answer to your "can I grow anything in that shady spot" plant question.
While there are plenty of other great native plants for shade-use in the Blackland Prairie, this one is particularly cool because it spreads easily, is tolerant of drought and heat, and is beautiful through all seasons. It's a grass that grows to about 3ft high and can be trimmed back in the winter for a tidier appearance.
I saw plenty of clumps of Inland Sea Oats throughout the woodlands, and it's always a treat, especially when rays of sun break through the canopy and hit the stalks and seed heads just right. The natural world is just so full of awesome stuff. The man-made world is cool and all, but it pales in comparison to all of the great things we unfortunately destroy and pave over in the built-environment the majority of us inhabit. I think it's time to collectively learn more about these plants and bring them back into our built-environments.
