Park2Park Relay 2012, Part II: An ultra moment to shine

I was reminded at Saturday's second annual Hendricks County Park2Park Relay how inspiration can hit you in a flash (excuse photography pun), without warning.

On a daylong event like the Park2Park, especially when you're coordinating a key aspect of the event as I was doing with the photography coverage on behalf of the Indy Meetup Photo Club, the mind is constantly trying to anticipate. This is on top of pulling back and doing the basic work -- photography. For example, I spent days trying to anticipate the handling of lighting for the 5 a.m. start of the ultramarathon competition, as I outlined in yesterday's post. Still ... despite the best intentions ... I learned a key lesson: If you don't get there early enough, you might not have enough time to set up things to experiment with enough ideas to optimize exposure.

I shrugged off the partial disappointment and returned focus to the rest of the event. Except for the surprisingly large spacing between when runners would show up at relay stations along the 64.5-mile course, things went smoothly and mostly as expected. It wasn't until I was at McCloud Nature Park, the event's terminus this year, that I was hit by the "inspiration" mentioned in the opening paragraph.

I'd already been at McCloud for about an hour and a half, invariably resting, eating/drinking, talking with race organizers and other club members, and taking some shots at the finish line, when I got the idea to explore the course trail within the park. I first headed to familiar terrain -- the elegant rust-colored steel bridge in the west part of the park where a couple of club members and I camped out last year as runners crossed that bridge on the first leg of their long journey (the course started in McCloud last year; the race organizers flipped it around this year and made McCloud the finish point). We had some dramatic morning light to make beautiful pictures last year; this year, runners were crossing the bridge in the early afternoon, not ideal lighting for pictures.

Still, gazing at the bridge is when the seed of inspiration was planted, though the lightning still would not strike until about a little later. I was on a mound overlooking the bridge, trying to shoot runners as I saw them crossing the bridge to my right in the early portion of this 3.1-mile leg and also coming at me from the south, a point on the course about three-quarters of a mile after the bridge cross for them. On the bridge, I saw Michael Scott, one of six men competing in the new ultramarathon division (individuals who run a 52-mile course across the county). I'd come across Scott earlier in the day about midway through the full course and took pictures of him smiling as he jogged toward me. I didn't realize it until that night, at home processing my pictures after the shoot, that I also had photographed him some 10 hours earlier in the parking lot of Sodalis Nature Park near Plainfield, this year's start point.

On the bridge at McCloud, Scott lifted up his arms and flashed thumbs up (see photo at the top, leading off this post), perhaps to acknowledge that the remaining 3 miles ahead of him was a pittance compared to the 49 he'd already logged. I took a couple of pictures of him on the bridge. Then I got to thinking that I never explored much else of the course trail within McCloud last year, so ... I followed the course from the point where I had been standing when I photographed Scott on the bridge -- roughly, the final 2 miles. The path -- which was grass-covered at that point -- took me to the ravine that the bridge spans to the south. I came across few runners in my journey after this, maybe a half-dozen altogether. But one of those turned out to be Scott, who reappeared as I was concentrating on photographing one of several birdhouses I came across on the path, which at that point parallels Big Walnut Creek. I had enough time to turn and photograph him coming toward me. He acknowledged my presence and offered a warm smile, and I told him that I thought he was looking good.

That's when the idea bolt struck. I decided that not only was I going to walk the final section of the course, but I was going to stay on Scott's trail -- at a distance -- as best as I could. I wanted to document in photos, the final stretch of an ultramarathon runner. After passing me near the birdhouse, Scott helped me accomplish that task a bit; he stopped jogging and began to walk, thinking I was out of his sight. I'm sure all the ultra runners stopped to walk portions of the course, so I understood that doing so was no embarrassment. I tried to remain at a distance because I didn't want to make him feel like he had to return to jogging because someone was watching. But, alas, there was a hairpin turn down a steep hill in a wooded section, a turn I didn't know was coming. It gave him an angle to see me, so ... he returned to his jog, and I decided to jog as well to keep up.

When we emerged from the woods back onto a grass portion of the path, he came upon two men who apparently had been looking for him. They offered Scott words of encouragement and joined him on the run the rest of the way. The separation between us would grow every time I stopped to take a photograph, and I worried I'd get too far behind to get a good shot of Scott crossing the finish line. So my "jogging" turned to a healthy run for about a quarter- to a half-mile, but I was up to the task. I was really excited.

When Scott emerged into the open area and the finish line in sight, there was a team of runners walking toward us, heading to plant a tree near one of the gravel parking lots. (Planting trees is an honor given to all teams who win the divisions they compete in for the relay). I recognized the team, Team Tenacious, from last year, when it also had won its division and planted a tree along the pond at Sodalis Nature Park.

Scott was only about 100 meters or so from the finish line when I crouched to try and track his final steps. That's when a passerby on a cellphone lazily walked almost right in front of me. I tried to veer left or right, but there were obstacles -- ironically, just at that point -- in either direction. I had to stop. By the time the unsuspecting cellphone user was out of my way, Scott was about 10 feet in front of the finish chute. I got off a couple pictures, but not the ones I'd been hoping for. I also photographed him talking to someone immediately afterward. I learned later that night that Scott was the third of the six ultramarathoners to cross the finish line. He completed the 52-mile course in 11 hours, 39.05 seconds, or a pace of 10:45 minutes per mile. Winning the ultra competition was Keith Gropple, who crossed the line in 10:21.28 (a 9.34 pace). Full results of the relay can be found at the Park2Park website.

Nicely done, Michael ... and all the ultramarathoners.

Next post: The start line at Sodalis Nature Park.

Above: I didn't realize it when I took this picture at 4:50 a.m. Saturday in the parking lot of Sodalis Nature Park, 10 minutes before the start of the ultramarathon competition, but the man on the far right -- Michael Scott -- would inspire me, about 11 hours later, to document in pictures the final 2 miles of his 52-mile journey in the ultramarathon competition of the second annual Hendricks County Park2Park Relay.

Above: Michael smiling as he approaches me, well into his ultramarathon odyssey. I know it was definitely between Blanton Woods in Danville and the relay station ending Leg 15 several miles east of North Salem. If I had to guess, I think it was on North County Road 350 West, right before runners turned left (west) to approach the Leg 15 relay station. But I'm not sure.

Above: I was standing on the gravel path you see, a little to the left of this bridge overlook vantage point, when I saw Michael cross the bridge in McCloud.

 

Above: Looking down from the bridge into the ravine ... and the path that, much farther down, runners would pass over in the final 2 miles of their journey to the finish line. 

Above and below: Michael came past me a final time at a point where, moments before I noticed him coming at me, I'd been photographing a birdhouse along Big Walnut Creek. He was about a mile from the finish. I allowed him to jog a very short ways before I turned and captured the photo below from behind, just before he would make a right turn and slip out of my sight. He then slowed down and began to walk. I began to follow him from a distance.

 

Above: These two men backtracked the course from the finish line, looking for Michael. The finish line announcer might have broadcast Michael's presence in the park, which he had been doing for many of the runners; ham radio operators at the runners' park entry point on the northwest side of McCloud no doubt were relaying that information to the finish line. This photo was taken after Michael had seen me following him when he came upon the hairpin turn in the woods, so he had been back in jog mode when the men found him and accompanied him the rest of the way.

Above: The three amigos, as they climbed an incline that would emerge into the park's main open area near the Nature Center. 

Above: The three amigos run past the circular ground openings where division-winning teams would plant trees. Members of one of those teams, Team Tenacious, which won the Mixed 40+ division, can be seen in the background (blue jersies) walking toward the area to do their ceremonial planting.

Above: Michael acknowledges applause and well-wishers shortly before veering left to approach the finish line chute.

Above: The journey is over for Michael Scott; a nice-sized group of spectators acknowledges his accomplishment. 

Above: Michael conversing with someone moments after he put on his finishing medal.

Park2Park Relay 2012, Part I: 'Painting' with light

Today's post is the first of what I foresee being several posts of photographs taken last Saturday at the second annual Hendricks County Park2Park Relay, a fundraising running event of the non-profit Parks Foundation of Hendricks County.

The Indy Meetup Photo Club tackled the photographic coverage of this largely "team" participation event as a club project in its inaugural year, and we so enjoyed ourselves that we decided to do it again this year. Much like the teams of runners (six people per team) in the relay event, we had a team of 19 club members spread out along the 64.5-mile course, responsible for photographing various portions of the race. We met at this year's finish site -- McCloud Nature Park in northwest Hendricks County (which was the start point last year) -- at the end of our journey.

Even though the temperature reached its highest of the year (93 degrees), most of our club members, I felt, enjoyed the second experience of doing this as much as we did the first. That's not to say the 2012 relay didn't have its challenges. In fact, the biggest of them all was finding a way to photograph the start of a new competition -- an ultramarathon -- in which individuals (not teams) ran a 52-mile course, a double marathon! Six people started and finished this competition, which began at 5 a.m. at Sodalis Nature Park near Plainfield, a western Indianapolis suburb. Today's post is about the challenge of lighting the start of the race in pitch darkness in order to get photographs.

Even though this is the time of year when daylight is at its longest, there still is no daylight at 5 a.m. Ultramarathoners would be wearing headbands equipped with battery-powered lightbulbs to provide illumination in front of them for the first half-hour or so before dawn would break. But the race people did not want us to use electronic flash at the start line in fear of even temporarily blinding (you know -- the "seeing stars" effect) the runners, who would already be challenged by the dark conditions and limited visibility. So the challenge for us (or for me, as it turned out, as I was the only one to get to Sodalis in time for the ultras' start), was how to photograph this?

I decided to do my best with available light. The race organizers had car headlights directed at the start point from the side of the runners so the lamps weren't aimed directly at their faces. I stood off to the right (opposite) side, camera on tripod. Had I gotten there earlier than I did (I think I arrived 10 minutes before start), I think I would have had the time necessary to do sufficient testing so I'd be ready at 5 a.m. But I had barely enough time to grab two or three shots in the parking lot (where there were also some headlight illumination thrown on several people standing around chatting). I had my Canon 7D on a tripod and equipped with a Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens set @ 70mm, f/2.8, 1/6, IS0-12800 (yes, I was pushing the ISO to my camera's limit). I got one OK shot among the three I took before I hurried to the start line where they were assembling the six ultra starters.

There, I had little time to pick my camera settings and hope for the best. I got one semi-decent shot of the runners lined up at the start (see picture above, leading off the post); the 24-70mm lens was set at 35mm, f.5.6, 1/80 and still on ISO-12800. I raised the shutter speed -- even though I might have been able to get a better-exposed shot at a slower shutter -- because I could not hear the talk at the start line (and therefore had no idea when those runners would be taking off) and wanted to make sure I could freeze even a little action if there were a sudden start. I couldn't hear because there was a loud portable gasoline-powered compressor operating nearby to keep the inflatable red start-line arch filled with air.


Sure enough, no sooner had I taken the picture of the runners standing at the line, the starter must have told the runners to begin (although I never actually heard the order), because they bolting off the line. I quickly took two or three more shots at the same camera settings. The runners were going to do a very short loop in the open area of the otherwise wooded park, finishing the loop at a point not far from where I had been just standing. So I shuffled about 20 yards to where I knew the runners would pass, and even though that point was only about 20 yards from where I'd been at the start line, there was absolutely no illumination to feed off now. 

I had no time to even set focus to infinity before they were coming at me (I did say the loop was short!). As soon as I could detect the bulbs on the headlights, I started trying to lock in focus on that light to grab pictures. Although the camera's auto-focus function did lumber a bit, it did find enough light on several occasions for me to pull off a half-dozen or so shots of these "bulbs" in the dark coming toward me. After the ultra runners left the park, I went back to the start line and continued fidgeting with settings to see what I could have done differently or better. About 10 minutes later, I finally came upon a positioning slightly farther back than I had been ... and camera settings f/2.8, 1 second, ISO-800 and the lens set at minimum focal length (24mm). I was getting some great exposures with those (although the 1 second shutter wouldn't have been able to freeze the runners, but ... I might have gotten some intriguing motion blur images). 

Twenty minutes after that, while perusing my images, I noticed a solitary volunteer sitting in a chair just off the asphalt path the lower right portion of the composition I'd taken earlier. She was in a profile position (left side of her face toward me). I'd not noticed her at the time I set up the composition because she was in almost total darkness; she had a hand-held device splashing light onto some reading material, but that was it. Everything else about her was pretty dark. Just then, a second woman joined the first -- and the second one sat in a way where she was facing me squarely, which is when I got an idea. I walked up to them and asked them if they'd mind if I experimented with some light-painting for a photograph. I explained to them what I intended to do: I'd take another shot at the same settings as above, and during that one-second exposure, I'd "paint" fluorescent light onto them (I used a sweeping motion when applying the light from the flashlight, hence the "painting" term) from a small flashlight I'd been using to "see" my settings. They readily agreed. So I did the above, and it turned out nicely. I didn't think of it at the time, but if I could tinker slightly with that paint-lighting, I might try to cover the flashlight with a warm (yellow or light orange) gel to try to match its temperature with that of light coming from the car headlights.


Next post: The six ultramarathon runners in Saturday's Park2Park Relay traversed a 52-mile-long course -- twice the length of a regular marathon, which is daunting enough. I decided on the fly to "document" in photographs the last mile or so of one ultramarathoner's exhausting, but amazing odyssey.

Above: Among people conversing in the parking lot at Sodalis Nature Park just a few minutes before the start of the Park2Park Relay's ultramarathon competition was Michael Scott (right), who already had his headband light turned on for the 5 a.m. start. I didn't know it at the time, but some 11 hours later, I would decide to follow Scott along the final mile and a half of his journey in McCloud Nature Park. 
 

Above: Ultramarathon runners are off the start line.

Above: I was able to compose a shot to show the headband lamps-only of five of the six runners nearing the conclusion of the short loop off the start in Sodalis Nature Park. 

Above: The sixth runner comes into view, and the shutter stayed open long enough to catch the runner's headlamp illuminating the asphalt path ahead of him. It was so dark, I didn't even notice the speck of light in the foreground. I don't know what to attribute that to. 

Above: When I saw this photo during post-processing, I figured the smaller, lower speck of light was flare. But now I'm not so sure. It was so dark, and things happened so fast, I don't know. Maybe the runner had something light-reflective on his shoe that provided that kind of refraction. The halo around it is definitely flare.

Above and below: Two views of the same scene, about 20 minutes apart. Above, One of the race staff uses a hand-held device to light some reading as she sits in a chair. When a fellow race staffer joined her 20 minutes later, I remembered how dark the first woman was in the picture above, so I asked the women if they'd mind if I "painted" them with light from a pocket flashlight I was carrying. Below is the result from that composition, the fluorescent light aimed in a sweep motion (up and down) at them during the 1 second exposure.