Racing Through the Heat: 10 Miles at Common Rush Trail Run

Race Details:

• Event: Common Rush Trail Run 10-Miler

• Location: Harris Lake County Park, New Hill, NC

• Race Director: Roadless Racers

• Date: Saturday, July 19th, 2025

• Conditions: 82°F, 82% humidity at 8 AM start

• Shoes: New Balance SuperComp Elite v4

• Gear: Bandit Running Upper & Lowers

Check out the race details here

The Setup (Or Lack Thereof)

My morning prep was absolute garbage. I woke up with just enough time to get dressed and drive the 30 minutes to New Hill—completely blowing my usual 3 hour pre-race plan. For a race like this, I'd typically get up about 5am, do some light rolling, eat a small breakfast, and work on mobility & hydration. This time, I had to settle for taking a Maurten gel while waiting in line for the restroom 15 minutes out from the race. Not exactly optimal race prep.

It was great to meet up with Jacob, Chris, and Connor before the start—always better to suffer with good company.

The Early Miles: Finding My Rhythm

Here's where I switched up my usual approach. I went out fairly aggressive from the gun, knowing the single-track nature of this trail race meant getting caught behind slower runners could really trap you. I wanted to be in good position early on, and I think that decision paid off really well. I never got caught behind anyone in the first few miles, and was able to run a relatively clean, open race.

The course was pretty variable: rolling hills, a couple technical trail sections, a few straight aways on gravel which were like a breath of fresh air. Those aggressive early miles put me where I needed to be, and I was able to settle into a rhythm around 8:15-8:45 pace depending on the terrain.

Stayed hydrated throughout, thankful for consistent aid stations set up as they provided ample opportunities to dump cold water on my head and attempt to not overheat. Popped a Maurtens at the halfway point and continued cruising.

The Reality Check

My legs felt fine—that wasn't the issue. What I didn't have was the explosive power I'm used to on hills. All that track work and flat training I've been working on the past few months had sharpened my speed but left me wanting when the course pitched upward.

But the real battle was mental. Heart rate pinned in the high 160s for the entire race—higher than my 10-miler in DC back in April where I ran 6:40 pace in perfect conditions. The heat & humidity combo was relentless, testing every bit of mental toughness I've built over the past two years of serious running.

Miles 8-10

This is where past-me might have settled. Found a comfortable spot in the field, protected my placing, and cruised to the finish. But something was different this time.

Instead of becoming content with my position, I kept hunting. Every person ahead became a target. When someone passed me late in the race, it lit a fire instead of deflating me. You don't want that feeling for the rest of the race, I told myself, and I didn't let it happen again.

That final half-mile? I emptied everything I had left, really went for it. It's a feeling I want to bottle—that refusal to settle, that commitment to see what's possible when everything hurts.

The Numbers

Final Time: 1:23:02 (8:18 average pace)
Overall Placing: 10th
Age Group: 3rd (M20-29)
Conditions: 82°F, 82% humidity at start

The pace was slower than I wanted, but given the conditions and my post-50K maintenance phase, I'll take it. More importantly, I proved something to myself about racing when things get uncomfortable.

What I Learned

Every race teaches you something. This one reminded me that racing isn't just about the physical preparation—it's about who you choose to be when the discomfort hits. Do you settle for "good enough," or do you keep pushing to see what's possible?

And sometimes? Your race prep gets blown up and you're running on nothing but Maurten gels and stubbornness. That's racing too.

Looking Forward

Was it a perfect race? No. Did I leave everything out there? Absolutely. Sometimes that's what matters most—not the time on the clock, but the knowledge that you refused to quit when your brain started offering you excuses.

The wall comes for all of us, whether it's mile 20 in a marathon or mile 8 in a brutal trail 10-miler with 82% humidity. The question isn't whether you'll hit it—it's what you'll do when you do.

This time, I pushed through. And that feels like a victory worth celebrating, pint glass and all.