TURFF Race Report by Team Off-Constantly

 After weeks of rain, team Off Constantly arrives Downtown on a cool, foggy Saturday morning.  With a forecast of warm & sunny, looks like it’s going to be a great day for TURFF 2011.

At the start, we rush to pick up our map package.  Larry hands me the map and runs off to collect the prologue punches; we had already spotted many of them from the transition area.  I start planning our route.  It seems too simple – the route for the running leg is obvious.  I thought “where’s the challenge in that?”  The challenges would show themselves later.  We blow off the run/paddle control.  Larry’s a casual runner, and I’m a slow, aging, creaky ultrarunner, so let’s not bite off more than we can chew.

Off to the Convention Center, then up the trail to the Armstrong Cork Bldg.  The duplicate Alcosan signs and tiny street names on the map slow us down for a minute at control #2, but we’re soon zig-zagging through the street grid on our way to Penn Avenue’s Doughboy statue, then up from Lawrenceville into Bloomfield.

Larry’s always running a few paces ahead of me.  “Are you doing OK Mike?” he asks a few times?  Yeah I’m fine, just slow - osteoarthritis in the knee, what feels like an embarrassingly low VO2 max, always sweating like a pig… and him 20 years younger than me, much stronger & more energetic… hey man, sorry, right now I feel like I’m slowing you down, but I’ll reel you in eventually, ha ha!

 Crossing the Bloomfield Bridge, I’m reminded of why I enjoy human-powered adventures in the city.  When driving, this is just another bridge, as I’m focused on the bumper of the car ahead of me.  On foot, on this sunny day, we had a beautiful, hazy far-off view of Downtown and Troy Hill from an unusual vantage point; to the left, an Oakland and Shadyside vista; looking down, a huge, remote valley that’s unseen by motorists.

Bloomfield Bridge, Polish Hill, going down Herron Ave… damn, this takes us down to the wrong bridge, the one by the brewery… I feel bad for leading us astray, along with the friendly out-of-town couple who are tagging along with us because we know the city so well.  D’oh!  No, don’t backtrack, there’s a public stairway right down there that will take us back up into the neighborhood.  As we come up Dobson onto Brereton St, our intended route, another team going the opposite way assumes we know what we’re doing, and they head down the way we came from.  Bad assumption, guys!

Downtown, heading back to the transition area at the Point, we’re running along Liberty Avenue.  A few ladies from a small restaurant cheer us all on.  It ain’t Bloomfield during the Pittsburgh Marathon, but for this little race, it’s pretty cool!  We’re passed by a few teams, including Team Spang.  In an interesting twist, my company has hired Tim, who’s now my new boss.  I’m competing with my boss in an adventure race.  Crazy!  We joke about whether it’s bad form to beat your new boss?  Oh well, not much chance that could happen….

Transition, Ft. Pitt Bridge, great ride all through the South Side, lots of people out, sun is shining for a change.  Hot Metal Bridge… the 5-pointer is straight ahead.  Do we go for it?  No, there are too many points in Schenley Park – 5 controls, 15 points - we better go to the park first.  But how to get there?  Larry’s leading, and he’s heading towards Panther Hollow.  HEY!  NO – THIS WAY!  I know that Bates Street is more direct, and I start down the ramp to 2^nd Ave, making Larry follow.  My plan is to take Bates & South Bouquet to Schenley Plaza and come around by Carnegie Library.  Slowly climbing the Bates St. hill, Larry pushes me to turn onto the Blvd of the Allies.  Yeah, you’re right, let’s do it!  Checks and balances – pushing and pulling each other, we find the best route.

 Larry lives in Shadyside; we’re now in his back yard.  He knows the park well by bike.  I’m a trip leader for Venture Outdoors, specializing in urban hikes – both history and fitness-oriented hikes.  I know every stair, trail, and monument here.  We’re in the zone, quickly moving from one control to the next, without using the map, without thinking.  Westinghouse Memorial?  Got it.  Catahecassa Monument?  Check.   We arrogantly discuss the best way to get to the 5-pointer near the Glenwood Bridge. 

 Flying back down Bates St, we take the lane as we enter a narrow construction zone.  The light turns red, Larry passes the cars, I wait in line at the light.  Is he a little reckless?  Am I too cautious?  Yes on both counts.   Hot Metal Bridge, 12 minutes to go.  It’s obvious that we’re out of time, so our argument about the best route to the 5-pointer seems silly now.  At least we have a few minute cushion – we don’t need to race hard on the way back.  Good thing, the trail is now crowded.  One racer passes us going outbound.  Are you crazy man?  Time’s up!  Another racer skids sideways as a careless walker steps in front of him.  No harm, no foul.  I’m feeling good, but Larry is slowing down – maybe not eating and drinking enough?  Regardless, we roll across the finish with two minutes to spare. 

Awards ceremony… no thoughts of a medal…race for the fun and adventure of it, stay and cheer for the winners, be happy with mid-pack, do the best we can, beat a few people along the way, “3^rd place men goes to Off Constantly”, WHAT?!?  In what Bizzaro World do we win that award?  Way to go, man!

 Looking at the results later, I see that the keys to this race were to not overreach for extra controls, and to navigate to, from, and around Schenley Park efficiently.  That’s the promise of adventure racing and orienteering – that slower racers can win with good strategy and good decisions.  That sounds good in theory, but it was great to actually experience it in person.  I’ve done enough races to know that sh%# happens.  But every once in a while, good sh%# happens too!

 -Mike Cornell