I’ve not raced it. I’ve not hurt on it like countless others have before me and countless more will after me. And I’m fairly certain I never will have any of the emotions that Rim Rock will force out of its competitors. So I’m kind of an imposter.
With that said, I’m sure there’s much better advice out there and at the end of the day, that advice is probably what you should listen to before mine. So take what I say here with a grain of salt. Or, at least, a chip of wood that may be stuck on the bottom of your spikes after this weekend.
However, if I do have any credibility on how to race Rim Rock, here’s what it’s from.
I’ve watched over 50 races at Rim Rock over the years. Both high school and college ones. And that watching comes with well over a hundred miles I’ve ran on various pieces of that farm and maybe even a few on Coach Hefernan’s lawn. (Sorry about that coach and thanks for allowing it.) I’ve been able to observe a lot in those years and miles.
The hills runners go up and come down; the rocky parts and the parts that always seem to have mud; the parts where wood chips run amok or the hedge apples are endless; the parts where fans are, literally, inches from the competitors face yelling at them to go harder; and I’ve witnessed the pre-race fear that each competitor has before the mayhem begins.
Does that all make me an authority of the course? Certainly not. But when you combine decades of witnessing this and miles of running alongside this, it does provide me with feedback. And like any coach with feedback, it should be given to others who it matters for.
Whether it helps or not, many of you are still going to have to run it and it’s going to hurt and it should.
Because that’s what makes it Rim Rock.
Part 1: The Start
There are a few dozen teams who’ll toe the line and each team tries to figure out what the perfect line is to the first tangent just about 400 meters away. Unless you’re running for time, that’s a meaningless agenda to try and meet. It’s State! You’re trying to win. When that gun goes off, figure out where your competitors are and run with them. Who cares what the perfect line is and, chances are, everyone wants that perfect line so that may just be a traffic jam you don’t want to run into.
So, whether you get that perfect line to the first turn or not, don’t make that matter. As long as you’re not running into Jim Ryun at that turn by swinging to wide to your right, you’re in a good spot.
Part 2: The 1K and 2K
This is, probably, the only section where I’ll give measurements and I’ll start with the first 1k. (It’s right where the last stages at the very end of Cemetery Hill intersect with the course. We’ll get back to that later.) I’ve seen quite a few athletes come through the 1K as fast as 20 seconds ahead of course record pace.
Don’t do that.
This may be the easiest kilometer on the course mostly because it’s the first one and fatigue hasn’t quite set in. But the terrain is also slightly rolling and while descending parts of that keep your pace up, the ascending parts of it keep your pace honest. If you ever wanted to do 1K repeats on a grass course to get ready for any course anywhere, repeats on the first kilometer of Rim Rock’s 5K course would be tough to beat. This part is pure XC, so enjoy this section. But be patient. Move quick, but no need to PR in the 1K here. Back in 2002 when Adam Perkins won Rim Rock Farms Classic, I bet he was in about 50th place at the 1K. He won the race by about 20 seconds. Patience.
From 1K to 2K is when you get back to the fans. Moms, dads, coaches, teammates not competing, alumni, strangers—all of them—will give you about 200 meters of loud cheering and you may even get to hear your name over the intercom as the announcer does a great job naming who’s where at that point in the race.
A bit of a downhill begins not too much after the 1K and you slowly climb out of it just behind the finish line and in front of starting line. This is where all that cheering happens the most, before you take a quick right (where the 1 mile marker shows up) and start a slight and then steep decline to Oak Holler Bridge which is just past the 2K.
Keep leg turnover consistent and quick during the 2K. The hills at the beginning aren’t too steep to matter one way or the other so just maintain right here. Moves don’t need to be made yet. Keep running with the “friends” you made through 1K and soak in the cheering fans. Those fans will be different in about 7 to 8 more minutes.
Part 3: Oak Holler Bridge and the Ponds
Like a Mike Tyson punch or an Aaron Judge home run or a Cole Hocker kick, Oak Holler Bridge and its hill show up and hit hard. Make sure you’re feeling good cresting it. If you went out 20+ seconds faster than the course record in Part 1, you better hope your Nomio/Beet Juice/Bicarb concoction is racing through your veins and into your muscles.
“Feel good at Oak Holler Bridge” should be the mantra you’re repeating to yourself up to this point. Whether you’re moving fast or slow, don’t let this hill be the one you die on. At the top you have about a 75-meter flat to get your wits back before you start a long descent into the “Ponds” section on the backside of the course. Something to look forward to here is when you begin that descent, you’re about at the halfway point.
“Take inventory!” is what I like to tell athletes. How are you feeling? Where are you at mentally? Who are you with? Who’s up ahead? Think right here. What do you need to do to navigate through a little over a mile and a half to have the race you want? There’s still enough time to “fix” things if needed but make those decisions now.
You, literally, can look around on the backside near the ponds to find a lot of this information out. Be observant and be a bit tactical here. It’s where to be smarter if you need to be or where to be stronger if you need to be. Race-defining moves are made back here.
Part 4: Nagging Little Hills
Here’s what we’re afraid of. When you come out of the forest just a bit past the 2 mile, you run across a flat berm that gives you just enough of a view to see what’s ahead. A quick left past that berm and alongside Teardrop Pond, there’s a nagging little hill where you meet Copperhead Trail that always seems to take a lot out of everyone.
Who put that hill there? Just plain mean.
Then you have about a 45 second stretch on a pretty flat portion before you enter King’s Bridge. Coming out of King’s Bridge you kind of get that Small World feeling if you’ve ever been on the Disney ride. You go from one world into another, and the first thing you witness is all the cheering people giving you the worst advice in the world.
That’s Cemetery Hill. I think it’s only named that by the runners who’ve ran it because of Chester Cemetery near the top of it. Whatever the name is derived from, Cemetery Hill has become the de facto moniker for it. Two things about this hill: 1. It’s a lot wider than you’ll race on and 2) it’s not as tough as it will be when you race on it.
And here’s the reason for both of those. First off, every fan gets there and every fan is telling you how much harder you need to push. That’s the bad advice. Don’t give in to those fans. Sure, they consist of your loved ones and they mean well but keep your head down and look right into the dirt and mulch on that hill. Don’t look them in the face.
Mom will be there, perhaps offering up the last few sips of her Dragonfruit Latte with extra foam and light ice. It won’t do anything for you, so refuse it.
Dad will be there telling you to sprint up that hill because that’s what he would’ve done back in the day. No it isn’t.
Your teammates not racing and who probably have more paint on their bodies than clothing will yell at the top of their lungs, "You gotta go!!!!" No you don't.
Just put that head down, pump those arms a bit more and move forward. It’s ludicrous to think that you’ll go up that hill any quicker than you probably are. A little side-note here to think about: Go back to Rim Rock a few weeks after the race and do hill repeats on Cemetery Hill and you’ll come to the conclusion that it’s not that bad. But the fear and the emotions and the point in the race where it is, that’s what makes it so dang hard. So Adam Goucher that bad boy. Get up and over it and be grateful that it won’t beat you and that you'll beat it.
Chances are you did make a mistake or two up to this point in the race and you now may be paying for it a bit. Well, don’t dwell on that because there’s a very good chance most of those “friends” you made in the first kilometer did the same thing. It’s even. It takes about 50 steps to get up Cemetery Hill; about another 80 to get around the backside of the cemetery; and about another 50 to get to that 1K intersection.
That’s about 200 steps to get through this section. Count those steps. Don’t let your mind fixate on the hill or if someone is passing you or if you’re passing someone. Just go numb and count steps. By the time you’ve counted them, this part is over or pretty darn near it. Maintain here. Think leg turnover.
EVERYONE is tired and hurting. It’s the course. It’s the race. IT’S THE SPORT!!! It’s supposed to be that way.
Part 5: The End
After those 200 or so steps end, you kind of enter this void on the course.
Everyone I've ever seen here looks miserable. So I haven't gone to that point in years. There's nothing to say here and it's, probably, where you'll hate the sport the most in your high school career. I really don't even like to talk about it, but I am. It's right where you'll intersect with the 1K.
Remember I said we'd get back to that? All I can offer is to allow things to be miserable here. It'll end shortly. About 75 meters after this void there's an odd sign on the right hand side of what is now the skyline. It’s the 500 meters to go mark. I don’t think anyone knows what their 500-meter PR is.
That’s why I like this sign so much. It suddenly makes you think.
“Why is that sign there?”
“What’s the big deal about 500 meters?”
“Should I be thinking about 500 meters?”
“Should I have done more 500-meter repeats?”
And just like that, you’re 400 meters away from the finish line.
One lap around the track. The pain and difficulty you felt in Part 4 or maybe even all the way back at the ponds in Part 3, aren’t really there anymore. The tanks of adrenaline are starting to heat up and the pistons are pumping. Look to the right and say hi to Coach Timmons just before you make that last turn. Coincidentally enough, that’s the 3-mile.
1/10 of a mile to go. Probably 30 to 45 seconds. Definitely under a minute.
It’s that tree down the block from your house. Your next class on Monday back at school. Your car out in the school parking lot. It’s from the top of the track to the finish line of the hundreds of 200s you ran.
It’s nothing. And it’s everything.
Hundreds of miles since the beginning of June. Early mornings. Hard workouts. Aches, pains, and maybe even injuries that were overcome. This is what the carbon-plated workout shoe is for. The $170 spike. The pasta parties. The yard signs. The reason why you chose to do XC. To find something left in you when you’re convinced nothing is there. This is where you find a little bit about yourself.
Don’t waste it by not finding that something out, especially If you’re a senior. If you're a senior, these are your last steps on the hallowed ground that is Rim Rock. Swing to your left just a bit as everyone wants to hug those flags on the right. That leftward swing also keeps you away from a weird little dip in the ground about 100 meters out from the finish line. (Probably the same person who put that nagging little hill back in Part 4 is the same person who put that dip here... Again, just plain mean.)
Pay respect to Billy Mills to your left because much like his final kick in the 1964 Olympics to win gold, it's all mental here. No matter what you did this race: win, lose, place, fall, slow down, speed up, you make sure you sprint through that Rim Rock Farm arch until you get past the 5001st meter like all the other champs before you.
Through the line. Not to the line.
Don’t think about it.
Just. Stinkin’. Go.
Go win this week, Kansas, and see you on the course.
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I’ve not raced it. I’ve not hurt on it like countless others have before me and countless more will after me. And I’m fairly certain I never will have any of the emotions that Rim Rock will force out of its competitors. So I’m kind of an imposter.
With that said, I’m sure there’s much better advice out there and at the end of the day, that advice is probably what you should listen to before mine. So take what I say here with a grain of salt. Or, at least, a chip of wood that may be stuck on the bottom of your spikes after this weekend.
However, if I do have any credibility on how to race Rim Rock, here’s what it’s from.