In last week's newsletter (let's be honest, if you're not getting the newsletter, you probably want the newsletter), I wrote about how I have this tendency to sign up for races and then under-train for them.
I did this once again with the Citytrail Loppet.  What happens is you sign up, think you're going to run a lot and be ultra prepared, and then you don't run and aren't. In any case, here are a few stand-out moments from my weekend single-track foray:

• My running pal, Paula, called me the night before the race to remind me to drink a lot of water. It was going to be sunny and hot on race day at 80+ degrees.  "Yep," I replied, thinking of the importance of hydration as I poured a stiff gin and tonic.
• As we milled around the starting line, we noticed that the crowd was extra fit, even for a running race.  "I don't see any cotton," Paula said.  Nope.  Everyone was wearing technical clothing and seemed perfectly muscled and slender.  "I usually rely on a third of the field to be wearing a cotton t-shirt," Paula said. "I'm looking for someone to beat," a friend told me.  "I volunteer," I agreed.
• I'd signed up to be in the first and fastest wave of the race, but on surveying the field, I demoted myself to the second.  Fewer people would need me to move over on the narrow trails to pass.  This was a good choice.  
• Even though the runners are for real, I've noticed that people are generally pretty cheerful and chatty in single-track trail races.  Like, racers in front of you will say, "Let me know if you want to go by!" while leading you deftly through the woods.  It's nice. And then, when people do pass each other, they generally offer an encouraging word or two.  I upheld this tradition heartily.  But, not weirdly or creepily.  It's a balance.
• Something that still weirds me out about trail running is that people generally walk up steep hills.  My high school cross country coach made it seem like the worst, wussiest thing you could ever do to walk up (or down) a hill.  The trail running people have a different philosophy. Their theory is that running hills takes more energy than it's worth in terms of total time.  I like this philosophy, and I think I could probably, with a little time and concentration, turn it into a metaphor for life.
• At the finish line, you got a pint glass and a technical t-shirt with a cool sun logo.  Who doesn't like swag?  I'll remember the effort fondly in my new t-shirt.  I didn't run super fast, but I had a super good time.