I'd stayed with a friend the night before, and all I had with me was a long-sleeved dri-fit shirt and a long-sleeved t-shirt to layer over it, dri-fit pants, gloves, and a headband. Before we even left the apartment, I was wishing I'd had the foresight to pack some extra clothes. In the car, I was torn between wanting the heat cranked up and not wanting to get used to being too warm. Thankfully, when we got to the race, one of the guys we met there had an extra sweatshirt he let me borrow. I was still freezing my tail off, and my toes had long since given up even trying to pretend that they were warm, but it helped.

Number and packet pick-up, as well as the post-race celebration, were in a barn near the parking lot. The start of the race was probably close to a mile away, on the other side of the freeway. We jogged towards the start with everyone else, and I started warming up. Fast. By the time we got to the start, I was ready to strip off the sweatshirt and go. (Of course, once I got running, I was desperately wishing I'd been more careful and not pinned my two shirts together when I put my number on. I was sweaty and wickedly hot, and would have gladly stripped off the extra shirt.)

And go we did! After we dumped our extra layers (and extra dry clothes to change into after the finish), a volunteer came over to tell us that the race had already started. Oops! We took off, crossed the start line, and off we went. We could still see the big pack of runners crossing the field and going up the first hill, so we knew we weren't too far back. Plus, none of us were really "racing" this race, so it didn't matter that we started a few minutes behind. (We found out later that we were about 2 minutes behind the official start - not too bad.)

We struck out across a field to the first hill, and that field was nasty. First, there was the wind. Secondly, we were running diagonally across furrows in the field, and those furrows were frozen solid. It was bumpy, uneven, and a total pain in the butt to get across. I took is slowly, ran in the footsteps of the person in front of me, and prayed that I wouldn't turn my ankle in the first quarter mile of the race. Then it was up and down a hill, and into the woods.

I'd seen pictures of this race from last year, and it was MUDDY. Everyone was covered in dirt, and I'd expected more of the same. In fact, I was sort of looking forward to it. However, the dry summer, combined with the insanely cold weather, meant that there was no mud. No creek crossings. No nothing. Just snow and leaves. In a few spots, you could tell where there should have been mud, because the ground was softer, but all in all, it was a dry, snowy course. On one hand, I was relieved. The idea of getting wet in what must have been single-digit wind chill was not one that appealed to me at all. On the other, I had been looking forward to splashing through the mud, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed that there wasn't any.

There was a group of 7 of us that ran together. None of us were racing, so we'd start off, spread out into a couple of groups, and every so often the people in the front group would stop, and we'd wait for everyone to catch up before taking off again. I've never run a race in a group like that before, and it was a lot of fun. Of course, staying with the group meant that I had 6 witnesses for the couple of times I decided to slide down the hills on my butt, instead of running or walking down them. That's fine. I'm used to a little healthy ridicule, and it was way better than being afraid of slipping down the hill and hurting myself. (I'm terrified of big, steep downhills. Having it be slippery enough to slide down was actually a relief.)

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and this race eventually did. When I got to the top of the last hill, I made sure I had a clear path, then went for it. I barrelled down the hill and across the furrowed field, and met up with my group right before the final dash to the finish. We waited for the rest of our runners, then took off for the last time, crossing the line together around 1:07.

Once we got changed into our dry layers, it was back to the barn for post-race refreshments. I was absolutely starving, and very glad to see trays of fried chicken and pasta and roast beef sandwiches, despite the huge line to get to it all. I grabbed a banana while I waited in line, and then took a little bit of everything when I got to it. It wasn't anything special, but it was tasty. And hot, which was almost more important. Maybe that's why it tasted so good. Sadly, there wasn't any hot cider or hot chocolate or any other sort of warm beverage, but I managed.

The highlight of the morning, though? Being able to take a nice, long, hot shower and thaw out when I got home.