Snowman Adventure: It's all downhill from here

I know what you were thinking Saturday morning.

You were thinking, "Heck, looks like a fine day to grab a sled and run up the East End hill, slide down at lightning speed, then bike around the Back Cove, pass a baton to a cohort who then runs back up the hill with the sled, slides down with the same gusto, then runs 2.25 miles and when he/she gets back we'll both hop onto our trusty sled and slide to the finish."

Maybe the sun puts silly ideas like that into your head.

If you did all those things Saturday, you were likely part of the weekend's Snowman Adventure Race. (Or very perplexed by all those costumed duos who totally stole your awesome idea and overtook the Eastern Prom.)

If instead you brushed those thoughts from your noggin, rolled over in bed and dropped back into a warm sleep, well then you missed out.

I hope the heavy regret doesn't hinder your future happiness.

But for the nearly 50 teams that showed up, sled in hand, at the East End parking lot Saturday, dreams came to fruition.

Casco Bay Sports' Snowman Adventure Race is a two-person relay (one person bikes, one runs, both have to jet up the hill with a sled and slide down to start their leg of the race).

These are serious athletes, folks. Athletes who wore costumes of mullet wigs, beer cans and pillows. Athletes who named their teams things like, "No Tampon for Old Men," "Two Hot Beeoches" and "Multiple Scorgasm."



My team, "Better off Sled" barely made it to the starting line, with me forgetting the all-important sled and my teammate forgetting her helmet (a race requirement).

But when 11:00 am founds its way to Maine, we were ready. The bikers were in charge of the first leg, and when "Go!" was shouted over the anxious teams, they bolted up the East End hill.



Then slid down it.

And off they went to bike the Back Cove. While they navigated the puddles of mud, sheets of ice and piles of crusted snow, we runners and spectators huddled near the heaters under the tent and waited.

When the first bikers started returning, it was clear they were having a rough go of it. Mud sprays spotted their clothes and faces. Most, it seemed, had wiped out at least once. Several collided. All were altogether spent by the time they passed the baton.


It was time for the runners to take on that hill. And I started up, with our tube flapping in the wind, with the utmost gusto. But half the way up my energy waned - and I started walking. No, "trudging" is a better word. At the top, breathless, I threw the tube down and looked down the hill, which was suddenly steeper than I remembered it.

The East End must be on a fault line - and plate tectonics was having its way with the the altitude.

But sliding I went - and wow, I'd forgotten what a winter delight downhill sledding is.

Some runners, despite their fresh enthusiasm, were halted by a passing train. Just the world's way of holding back the fast people so we slow pokes can catch up, if only temporarily.

The run took us down to the East End trail toward Portland Company, then up to Fore Street. And just as I was plodding past St. Lawrence Street I realized that I had spoken to soon when I'd thanked the heavens for not putting me on a bike. Sure, the bikers fell down a lot and were covered in mud, but have you ever tried to run up Fore Street?

I don't mean to be dramatic or anything, but it's akin to dying.



Back at the East End, teammates and sleds were waiting at the top of the hill. I found my Better off Sled partner and together we tubed to the finish line.

Another team of friends close behind managed to pop their tube on the way down. Mine, it seems, is dying a slow death in the middle of my family room. These are the sacrifices we make to the Snowman Adventure Gods.

Post-race, we were treated to soups from Maine Squeeze Juice Cafe and took some time to warm up (or cool down, depending).

Then off to Ri Ra where a spread of chicken wings, potato cakes and spinach dip awaited. Oh, and the celebratory drinks, of course.

Awards were given, including Best Team Name, which went to Victorious Angels.

Looking at the results board, we saw that "Over Forty & Still Naughty" had beat us by 20 minutes.

Of course they did.

Our finishing time? Well that's not really all that important, is it? It's not about the TIME. It's about the EXPERIENCE. Yea, that's it. The experience.

But what an experience it was. And race proceeds went to Portland Trails - who's going to knock that?

If you missed it this year, consider yourself warned. We expect to see you, decked out in feathers or garbage bags, at Snowman Adventure 2010.

Check out the Snowman Adventure Race participants

Check out Casco Bay Sports for upcoming events & leagues

Muffled clapping & screwing shoes: all in a winter day's work

MaineToday.com and The Maine Switch compiled a Winter Health & Fitness Guide that went live online this morning. We work well together like that.

Karen took on the spa - because your feet could use some serious attention this time of year. (Forget that "no one sees them but me' nonsense. No matter how thick those socks are, we can still hear their cries for help - albeit muffled.)

Avery rounds up some locally made lotions and whatnots that'll keep the winter itching to a minimum and support our fellow Mainers to boot.

My contribution to the effort was a piece on staying active in the winter. Of the three of us, I'm the most likely to shirk the chill, bundle with fleece and run outside.

I didn't say I do it often. But my sporadic outdoor jaunts still happen to make me the "athlete" of the trio. (Yea, I laughed at the thought too.)

But I was enthusiastic enough about winter running to make a pair of screw shoes a few weeks ago.

Yes, "screw shoes" sounds funny. It sounds like the athletic girl's version of those stilettoed, knee-high boots that are often referred to by another name that I can't use in this blog. (Our company's being sold - we're trying to keep the language on the up and up. At least until the dust settles.)

For someone who's slipped, crashed and otherwise harmed myself on a devilish patch of ice, running in the winter can be a daunting idea. So when I got wind of these here screw shoes (thanks to Ian Parlin of Trail Monster Running who spoke at Maine Running Company last year) I decided to give them a whirl.

The concept is simple: Get some screws. Put them in the shoes.

The screws have a crampon effect, making a slip and tumble on the ice a least somewhat less likely. The downside is they're quite slippery (and floor damaging) when worn indoors. So don't wear them indoors, even though you think they make a nice taping sound and you fancy you might have a Gregory Hines-level of tap dancing talent.

I had intended on running the Polar Bear 5K last Saturday with my screw-free shoes, but I procrastinated the registration and the race filled up. "Oh, darn" I said when I heard I'd missed the window of opportunity. But I was partially relieved.

I wanted to run jog it, but I also didn't.

Instead, a friend and I opted to volunteer at the event (she - being the noble sort - had offered her bib number to her brother who had also failed to register in time).

Perks to volunteering at road races:

1. You get to say things like, "Have a good run" and "Unfortunately you didn't register in time for a shirt. I'm very sorry. It's out of my hands. Please stop scowling at me like that. OK, here, you can have mine."

2. When the starting gun goes off and everyone starts running, you get to hang back and not run.

3. You not only get to cross the finish line, you get to hang out at it and high five every runner (or at least try). If someone could come up with a clappable pair of gloves for winter run spectators, that'd be lovely. Clapping in wool mittens is kind of a let down.

4. If you think ahead and dress in running attire, you can linger amongst the runners after the race and everyone will think you just ran that 5K, 10K or Iron Man too. Only you will know the truth, but folks like us aren't bothered by a wee bit of innocent trickery, right?

Winter runs (and so do I)

I've never called myself a "runner." Even during those two consecutive summers that I trained for and ran the Beach to Beacon, I considered the endeavor one of complete absurdity. I mean me - NOT a runner - training for a 10K. That's what made it funny.

In high school I spent a portion of my freshman year wearing shin guards, loitering on a field in front of a soccer goal. But I never dared to refer to myself as a "soccer player."

True soccer players love the game, train to improve and don't ask the coach if they can be goalie just so they don't have to run as much.

See, nouns like "runner" or "athlete" or "night stalker" have certain implications. They indicate a lifestyle, a passion, maybe even a talent. They raise expectations as to how fast you move or how well you can disguise yourself behind residential landscaping.

"Runners," in theory, run often and run well.

I do neither.

So no, I'm not a runner. But for some reason I sometimes find myself running anyway.

I've already blogged about the Portland contingent of the Hash House Harries (officially dubbed "Pour-Me"). It's an excellent excuse to get motivated during a season that makes it so easy to...well, nap. But if you don't like ending your runs with dirty drinking songs and inquisitions into your sex life, there are plenty of other runs to get your feet moving.

Polar Bear 5K: Feb 14th

Yes, it's Valentine's Day. And sure, being greeted in the morning with flowers and an original sonnet (read aloud and backed by a violinist) is one way to get your heart racing. But should you suspect that that might not be how your Feb 14th is going to begin, why not do something good for yourself?

You could down a vodka millkshake instead, if that's part of your journey, but I think you deserve better than that.

All the Polar Bear 5K info

The Snowman Adventure Race: Feb 21st

Four words: A sled is involved. The two-man relay starts on the Eastern Prom and requires racers to take a sled down the East End hill. One person runs 2.25 miles, the other bikes 4.5. Post-race soups from Maine Squeeze will help deter the chill. And a post-race happy hour at Ri-Ra will supply the drinkable reward.

And heads up: Race director Patrick Hackleman tells me that you might feel out of place without a costume. So prepare yourselves.

All the Snowman Adventure info

Pineland Farms Winter Tri: March 1st

This ain't your momma's triathlon. It's a 4K snowshoe run, 10K mountain bike (on roads) and 8K cross-country ski. I think we've all harbored a few fantasies about running in snowshoes. There's just something graceful and courtly about it.

You can enter as an individual or get some pals together for a relay.

All the Pineland Farms Tri info

Irish Road Rover 5K: March 8th

This St. Patrick's Day-inspired 5K has been running (pun intended) for over a decade. The course heads up India Street to the Eastern Prom, loops back and ends agreeably close to Brian Boru.

I'm just sayin'.

All the Irish Road Rover info

Don't fancy yourself a runner? Me neither. But I'm running 'em anyway.