SCAR 2013

What can you say about such an experience? I am finding the words to be almost impossible… it is difficult to capture the sights and the feelings of such a run.

This was the most pure run I have done, probably in my lifetime up to now; pure in the sense that there were no interruptions of other people racing, or aid stations, or clocks, or course markings, or expectations… just a trail that has been there for 90+ years, traversed by a countless number of people, marked with simple white blazes that might as well be birch… nowhere else to go but to follow the well-worn path, and the beauty that it entails.

As we went I couldn’t help but be reminded of those I had known of that had a history with the Appalachian Trail, from thru-hikers, to section hikers, to other running buddies that had shared this experience, and to think that their feet had traversed exactly where mine were… in this we shared a wonderful experience without even being together, and I took great joy in knowing that we were sharing in this experience, albeit at differing times in our lives, but we all were there, climbing, descending, suffering.

The tale will stay with me forever, and the experience will soon be replicated, and completed in one haul… but for this write up, I will share the highlights of the trip, and let the pictures (click here) and the imagination fill in the holes… until you decide that it’s time to find out the real story on your own, and take on the Smokies Challenge Adventure Run (SCAR) for yourselves.

o    The total length of the SCAR is about 72 miles, with about 18,000 feet of climbing.

o    While the section of the AT can be run in either direction, we chose the more traditional route, being south to north, or Fontana Dam to Davenport Gap, with a refueling check-in at Newfound Gap (mile 40ish).

·         We started from the far side of Fontana Dam at about 9:30am on Saturday.

·         My buddies and I made it to Newfound gap in about 13h30m, at which point the fatigue and the cold caused my friends to throw in the towel, and call it a day. I chose to do the same, given that it would be a long, cold night out there for the second half by my lonesome…and God-forbid that I break an ankle and have to hike it on one paw for 20+ miles.

·         After a restless few hours, I got up, and upon a bit of encouragement and cooperation, I put on my crusty clothes from the day before (except I did have a change of socks), I had my buddies drive me to Davenport Gap, where I proceeded to run back to Newfound Gap solo in 7h30m. This route added about 2000 ft. of vertical to the experience, so final stats for the two-day haul were about 72 miles with about 20,000 ft of elevation gain.

·         While this gave me the satisfaction of completing the task, I certainly have unfinished business with the SCAR. I am planning a return trip this fall, this time solo, with experience in tow.

·         A HUGE thanks to Jim and Cap’n Harold for the aid and the Airstream (1989 beauty!), to Ed and Greg for the company, to my wife for the encouragement, and to God for the ability, the courage and the beauty of creation.

This is a run that I highly recommend to everyone out there… the Smokies are freaking amazing, and God reveals himself on every inch of the journey. VAMOS!!!

Gear used:
Salomon Running Pack (the one I won at Stumpjump 50k a looong time ago)
Salomon EXO Shorts
Patagonia SS Top (Thanks R/C)
Day one socks – Balega wool
Day two socks – Smartwool
Hoka Stinson Evo shoes
Huma Gel
Oreos, Nutter Butters, and Chips Ahoy cookies
Katahdin water filter pump (freaking genius)
Camelbak Insulated bottles

Lake Martin 50/ Bear Blaster 50k+ 2013

Lake Martin 50 Miler

The Lake Martin 50 is a new race in Alabama put on by David Tosch and his wife. I am familiar with them from doing the 12-hour Run for Kids Challenge the past few years, and I knew that this event would be top notch, even though it was a first year. The course is advertised as two 25-mile loops, with a total elevation gain of about 5300 ft.

According to David, the course was not too difficult, but that those who had not run in the area may be surprised by the hills. Seeing that the location of the race is south of Sylacauga, home of the Pinhoti 100, I figured the trail would be similar, meaning consistent up-n-down the whole time… and my hunch was right!

Following a good night’s rest in the local state park, I was up at 4:45 eating my usual pre-race breakfast (pop tarts and off-brand mountain dew), and headed to the start. It was good to see those in attendance, as there were a few faces I had not seen in a while. That is one thing I hope never changes about our sport… it is always good to catch up with others, and congratulate them on recent accomplishments. Soon enough the sky let through enough light for us to start, and, following a brief adieu, we were off!

The field spread out appropriately, and I found myself running with John Cobb in the lead. We chatted a bit and discussed upcoming races, and soon we found ourselves at the first aid station. Our pace wasn’t crushing the spirits, so we both were comfortable with the course thus far. John is one of those guys that can settle in to a pace and hold it indefinitely, so I knew he would be a contender all day. On one of the many steep downhills, John stopped to get some debris out of his shoe, and I continued to press down the hill… and continued to press.

I felt comfortable for the first bit, cruising on the course, opening up on the numerous downhills, and taking advantage of the good terrain to speed up the pace; however, after a quick look at the data on my Suunto Quest, I knew that what I was doing was not going to last, especially considering I was not fueling properly to sustain such an effort. I soon came through the first loop, on the heels of the second place guy running the 27-miler.

But did I slow down? Naaa… I was content to ride the wave until it crashed. I knew what was coming; I just wanted to see my reaction to it. And at around mile 30 it hit: the full-on bonk!

After being passed by John and the second place guy, I hobbled into the aid station, seeing stars and trails, and totally light-headed. The great thing was, I had been here before. I knew exactly what to do, and I knew that after a bit I would be fine… I just had to re-up and wait it out. I sat down at the aid station and ate a PBJ, some cookies, some electrolyte pills, drank a cup of coke, and drank some Heed.

After a bit, I got up and took some cookies and half a PBJ down the trail with me, as well as a half a cup of coke. Slowly but surely, the light-headedness dissipated, and I began to come back around. I started moving my feet faster, and soon felt the energy I needed return to me. I started running again, right on time. I pressed on down the trail, with slight illusions of making up the 20+ minutes that I had just lost.

The Suunto allowed me to stay on track in terms of miles left, and with each mile that ticked off I was closer to the finish. I hit the last aid station and knew I was home free, with just 7 miles left to go. Could I catch these guys? I was gonna try… but alas, too much time was between us. I crossed the tape in 3rd OA, with a time of 8:13:16.

I was more than pleased; I rode the wave, it crashed as I expected, but I took the time and recovered, and then progressed to the finish. No worries at all! I had created a wonderful frame of reference in my experience bank to fall back on, which is of the utmost importance for runners like me. I need that sort of experience, where the wheels fall off, but I took the time to put them back on, and it paid off well.

A big thanks again to David Tosch for putting on the race. His attention to detail and his willingness to set out a great course made all the difference. I am excited to participate next year in the inaugural running of the Lake Martin 100!

–

Bear Blaster 50k+                               

So my wife signed me up for this on the heels of the Lake Martin 50. I was going to the event to just casually run, not race… I figured that the Lake Martin 50 the week before would have my legs kinda tired, and certainly not in race shape. However, a few weeks before the event, the race director posted a picture of the trophy, a bronze bear head. I had to have it, and I was determined that, no matter how tired I was from the week before, I wanted that bear head!

My wife and I made the 8 hour drive to Augusta on Friday. The next morning, following “the usual” breakfast, it was time to run!

We went to the park in time to get our bibs (my wife had the flu the week before, so she was unable to run). The race director issued us a quick word, and following the starting pistol bang, we were off!

I really knew nothing of the trail, its conditions, nor its elevation profile, so I just took off with reckless abandon. I knew that my legs felt better than I thought they would, and I knew that I probably had a solid 50k in me. I set the pace early and did not let up. At the first aid station, I knew that there were two guys close behind, so I topped off my bottle and went. I stayed fueled properly the whole day, consuming one Huma gel every 40-45 minutes (if you hav’nt heard of Huma, google it! All-natural gel… awesome!).

As I glanced at my Quest again, I saw the speed that I was going, but really paid it no mind… I was determined to get that bear head! About a mile from the turn around, I was clicking off miles super-efficiently… maybe too efficiently… because I totally missed a turn. I would up at some highway junction, and after a brief moment to come out of the zone, I knew I was not where I needed to be.

I backtracked and found the CLEARLY MARKED turn to the right. I made it to the turn around and was anxious to see how much time I had lost, and how much I was leading by. From what I can tell I went about a mile off-course which left me up on 2nd by about .4 miles. I really got frustrated with myself for missing the markers, but I was on the sauce, and started laying down a pace that I felt was unsustainable, perhaps even for me, but especially for the guys behind me.

As I cruised into the last aid station, I topped the bottle off again, and hit it for the home stretch, counting down the miles, and praying for the help to sustain the pace. I didn’t know where they were behind me, but I knew they wanted to take my bear head… but I wasn’t gonna let ‘em!

I went through my 50k split at about 4:11, and just kept hammering… since the course was longer than a 50k and since I took a wrong turn, I really didn’t know how far I had to go to get the bear head. Soon enough, I got to the parking lot that led to the finish… the bear head was mine! I finished up 1st OA with a time of 4:48 for 36.5 miles.

Gotta give a shout out to the RD on a great event… small, intimate, and hilarious, from the logo to the trophy! And congrats to all the finishers…VAMOS!

Next up… SCAR!

Gear used:

Shoes: Hoka OneOne Stinson
Shirt: Patagonia Air Flow Tank
Shorts: Salomon Exo S-Lab
Socks: Swiftwick 7”
Hat: Outdoor Research
Handheld: Camelbak Insulated
Nutrition: Huma Energy Gel

MS 50 2013

I love mud… and cold… and loops… and bogs… and I love Mississippi trail running! It was my pleasure to once again entertain myself for a few hours with the madness that is the Mississippi 50.

I have run this race several times, and only once has there not been mud… that type of mud that sucks your shoes off. This year was considered to be a “dry” year, but all that meant was that the mud was extra-tacky… the kind of mud that, after a few thousand feet have gone through it, turns into a bog, where shoes stay and feet go.

In fact, one guy did lose his shoe in one of the mudpits; he reached in and literally couldn’t find it, and was left with one shoe!

Despite all this mud, I do love this race, for its volunteers, and its race director, Dennis Bisnette. He and his crew do all they can to ensure that a good time is had by all. The course is well marked, and the aid is solid, including red beans and rice at the finish. And man, red beans and rice on a cold day is MONEY. The 50-mile course is set up as three 12.5ish mile loops, and two 6.2ish mile loops. The 50k race and the 20k race are run on the same loops, but with variations for their distances.

Following my breakfast of champions (Pop Tarts and Citrus Drop Extreme, which is off-brand Mountain Dew), I headed to the start line, and met up with some buddies. Following a few “good lucks” we were off into the morning twilight. It was cold, but usually as the day progresses, I tend to get warmer. However, given the cloud cover and the wind, I stayed pretty cold throughout the run.

I settled in to a pace with my buddy Ed Daly, who had just gotten back from a ski trip to Colorado. As we ran and chatted, I could tell that the fatigue of the past few high mileage weeks was working on me, and that I needed to back off the pace a bit for the rest of the time. There is an out-and-back section to the course, and as we came back on it, we were able to size up the competition for the day. I told Ed that today was his, and to take note of who he needed to get. We finished up loop one, and I let Ed go off to track down his destiny. I, on the other hand, focused on keeping a solid pace for the day, not sure where I would end up at the end, but knowing that I needed to run patiently… just another long run.

The next big loops were uneventful, other than the adventurous crossings of the by-now bogs. Man, that mud will make you tired after a while! I just focused on being comfortable and patient with myself. At the start of the first short loop (mile 37.5), I decided that I would give myself two hard miles, just to see if I saw either Ed or Eric Lee, who was now leading the race. I figured that although I was on tired legs, maybe the sight of them would inspire me… but after a good push, they were still nowhere in sight, so I settled back into my groove, and was content to do my thing to the end.

Coming to the clock for the final time, I felt great. Although my legs were tired for a good portion of the day, I didn’t give in to it, and maintained an even keel for the better of the last 37 miles. I finished the race in 7:39, good enough for 3rd place. Not too bad for a long run.

Congrats to my buddy Ed Daly, who stayed strong the whole time, and was unrelenting all the way to the finish, good enough for 2nd. Congrats to Eric Lee on the “W” also… great guy. If you haven’t heard of him, Google him; he finished up Nolan’s 14 last year. If you don’t know what Nolan’s 14 is, Google that, and then have your mind blown.

Up next is the Lake Martin 50 miler on March 23rd! VAMOS!!!!

Gear used:
Shoes: Saucony Peregrine
Socks: Swiftwick 7”
Shorts: Salomon Exo S-lab II
Shirt: Patagonia L/S
Head cover: Buff (I freaking love these things!)

24 Hours of HOSTELity

I wonder what time it is…

I wonder how far I have gone…

Where the crap am i???

These are just a few of the thoughts that I struggled with during the 24 hours of HOSTELity, all of which would be answered as soon as I crossed the finish line…but where would that finish line be?

The 24 hours of Hostelity is set up on a .65 mile loop trail around the Hiker Hostel in Dahlonega, GA. Each loop covers single-track and double-track, with about 110 feet of elevation gain per loop. Now this is a debatable point. Willie Syndram, the RD, advertises the loop at 100ft of climbing; however, I heard altimeter readings from 110 to 150 feet per loop… any way you cut it, that kind of climbing adds up over the course of a day. In and of itself, the overall elevation for the day is not too bad, but given that it is all packed into a 1k loop makes the climb and the descent seem pretty steep.

Despite the rain the week before, the course was in amazing condition. The RD had put out mulch on the wet spots, and the dry air allowed a few slick spots to hold up over the course of the event. I was prepared with numerous shoe options to combat the mud, including yaktraks and an old pair of New Balance snow running shoes (complete with screw-in spikes), but none were needed, as my Hoka One One Stinson EVO’s did the trick. Not only was the cushion much appreciated on the steep downhill, but the tread gripped nicely, allowing me to run with confidence on some of the slick areas.

Following a breakfast of champions (two pumpkin pie pop tarts and a big cup of coffee) and a short drive to the Hostel, the 9am start time came with much excitement, as the RD led us around the loop for the first time: across the back porch of the Hostel, past the chicken coop, on a line beside the road, down an embankment, up the switchbacks, past the trailer with wood, up a slight hill, onto the double track, down the huge embankment, up a steep embankment, right onto the gravel drive, and back past the back porch… and then repeat!

My goal for this run was to keep moving non-stop for all 24 hours. I was not concerned with place or distance, just time, and I knew that, no matter what, the race would end at 9am on Sunday, and all I had to do was to keep moving until then.

I started out conservatively, running the loop while slowing down quite a bit on the steeper climbing portions. Being from the deep south, I generally have to prime my climbing legs for courses with significant elevation, and leading up to this event, I neglected this part of my training… so I knew that I was going to have to take it kind of easy in order to sustain motion for the day.

I kept this strategy up throughout the course of the day until I began to feel the fatigue in my quads, at which point I developed a pattern of walking/running dictated by the terrain of the course. I kept this strategy in place for the remainder of the race, up until the sunrise, at which point I went for it… more on that in a few.

Considering the set-up for the race, I was able to see numerous runners multiple times, and it was neat to share encouragements with one another throughout the day. A wonderful bonus was the fact that my wife, Bev, was doing the 12-hour portion of the race, so as the day wore on, I would slow down and do a few laps with her…what an encouragement it was for me to have her support! She even stayed out and rooted me on into the night and on through daybreak!

The aid station was fully stocked throughout the day, allowing me to stay on top of my nutrition, and not go into the red zone on either energy or hydration levels. I began the run by GUing every 30-40 minutes, and kept this strategy for the first 7 hours, at which point I switched over to solid food… oreo cookies, pbj’s, cheeseburgers, pizza, soup… whatever my body was craving, I ate it! The volunteers were more than accommodating to my needs, and this really helped me keep moving. Their recommendations for food choices were brilliantly timed, as the soup really hit the spot at night to help warm my core. I stayed hydrated by drinking the Poweraid that was supplied, and supplemented coke, mountain dew, and coffee for quick bursts of energy. Nutritionally, I was dialed in, and this really allowed me to keep on moving towards that clock!

As Saturday turned into Saturday night, the temperature began to drop, and the frequency of seeing other runners dropped as well. There were several moments in the night that I wondered where everybody had gone, and then I would see a light bobbing through the forest, and I knew I wasn’t alone in my suffering. For this race, I didn’t wear a watch… why bother? The race wouldn’t end until 9am on Sunday, and they would tell me when that was. This allowed me to stay focused on the here-and-now of the experience, staying in tune to my body, and staying confident to pursue the goal.

I was acutely aware of the achiness in my legs on the climbs, and the pain in my quads on the sharp down hills. This was a pattern that I became very familiar with throughout the night: ache and pain, ache and pain, ache and pain… but I knew it was going to end, sometime. I just had to endure, and so I kept on going.

I don’t have any idea what time it was, but at some point, the RD came onto the course and tempted me with the sight of a 100-mile buckle. I don’t remember how the conversation went, but he and a few others said that if I would average 10-minute miles until the end, I might be able to make it. “Maybe next year… my goal is just to keep moving for 24 this year… I will come back more prepared for the climbing and get the buckle next year.” This was good for me. While the allurement of the buckle was pretty strong, I knew that was not my goal, and any pursuit of it this year could ruin my chances of going for all 24 hours. I kept my goal in mind, and pressed on, knowing that the buckle could wait.

About an hour before sunrise, creation began waking up. The chickens began to rustle in their coop, and were more chatty each time I passed them. The resident dog at the Hostel came out and dominated me, sprinting by me, then stopping and staring at me, waiting for me to catch up, and then sprinting by me again. I talked to the dog for a while, telling him “oh yea tough guy?! How long have you been out here? I’ve been goin’ all night, and you come out here and own me now? Punk!”

I had begun to really lose it at this point. I was talking to myself, to the dog, to the chickens, to the trail… I had even gone off the trail twice, both times right between the big green arrows telling me which way to go! I really, really needed the sun to come up to refresh my spirits and get me right again…

Soon, the sky began to turn that color, a light shade of rosy-pink that only the sun can make… and I knew the end was near. I came through the aid area, and was informed that I had two hours to go. At this point, I was in some real pain, but I knew it was time to go even deeper. I began to formulate a plan of attack for the last two hours. I wanted to go as hard as I could, and cross the finish line knowing I had poured out my all. I segmented up the course into speed walks on the climbs and running on the flats and down hills, even the huge one that was causing me so much pain.

I was ready to implement my plan, and so I did. I took off, determined to pour it out until it was over. Soon enough the sun was glowing on the horizon. With each loop the RD, my wife, the volunteers, and others gave me the encouragement I needed. The few that remained on the course were more than encouraging, as we all did our best to help one another onward with our words. As the time went by, my speed picked up, and the end was near. I journeyed deep into the pain cave, determined to conquer the demons and trample them underfoot. “One hour left!” No worries, just push it. “40 minutes!” Keep pushing… I had no idea how far I had gone, but I knew these were the fastest laps of the day. “30 minutes!” “22 minutes” Keep on… push it, faster! Two more laps! “16 minutes!” Almost there! Come on! VAMOS!

There it was: Sunday morning, 9am… the finish. I had achieved my goal of perpetual motion for 24 hours. And I was more than ready to sit down! My legs were in shock, and I was starving, having foregone food for the last two hours for the sake of speed. I went in to the Hostel for the first time, found a chair, sat down, and ate some amazing banana pancakes with syrup. Willie (the RD) informed me that I was the winner, and that is always a good feeling. My hard work had paid off with a “w”, but more importantly, I had really conquered some running demons out there that had been on me for a few months.

I had gotten in to a funk of being hard on myself, not allowing enjoyment of the sport due to goals that I would put on my performances. If I found myself failing at that goal, I was more apt to just quit, rather than be content with the love of the sport. This race allowed me to go for it in a way that I knew I could achieve. My goal was 24 hours… not miles, not a time, not a pace, not a finish position. And I did it, and in the process, I took another step towards learning to be content with my efforts, no matter what. I am not the fastest guy, and I am not the strongest guy, but I love to run, and I can suffer with the best of ‘em. ”Come what may, I want to run!”

Final Stats
Laps: 148
Distance: 96.2
Hours run: 24
Elevation gain: somewhere around 16,500 (I heard between 15,000 and 20,000)
Gear Used:
Shoes: Hoka OneOne Stinson EVO
Shorts: Salomon Exo S-Lab II
Shirts: Lots of ‘em!
Poles: Black Diamond Z-poles
Facial Hair: Moustache

Thanks again to all who made this race possible…your hard work was greatly appreciated! And Willie “Nature Boy” Syndram, you are a stud!

Grindstone 2012

It is tough to sit down and write a race report on such as event… it’s is like trying to capture a panorama of God’s creation from the mountain top with a camera. Just doesn’t do it justice. This was by far the hardest thing I have ever attempted to do. With an elevation profile that looks like the devil, Grindstone is the hardest 100-miler in the east, and one of the hardest in the country.

These facts alone lend themselves to ask the question: “why would you do such a race?”

The answer is twofold: the challenge of it, and it is the nearest Hardrock qualifier to me (here in Mississippi).

The course is an out and back, almost all single or double track trail, with a few spots of FS road thrown in, as well as a bit of pavement. It DOES NOT meander through the mountains, but goes STRAIGHT UP them, bypassing switchback ascents and descents, and heads north through the Shenandoahs. This was truly one of the most beautiful and scenic runs I have ever done, with the views of the ridges, valleys, and mountains being breathtaking. The moon was half-lit, so that in the openness of the dark you could run with the trail illumined by God, complete with millions of stars to accompany the awe-inspiring view. In the daylight, the colors were brilliant, with most all of the trees experiencing a vibrancy of color that can only be enjoyed for a few weeks a year. The rain a few days previous had softened the ground, but the rocks were dry. The conditions were ideal.

To be honest, this was quite unlike any 100 that I have done. All of my other 100-milers have been battles, with multiple highs and lows, and numerous “tales” of being out there. This was purely focused. I was determined and confident the entire time. I knew that I had trained as hard as I could have, and I fully expected that training to carry me to the finish.

The race began at 6pm on Friday evening, with the setting sun already casting its shadows upon us at the starting line. The first miles of the race took us to the exit of the Boy Scout camp and gave us a taste of the rocks and climbs that would be common for the rest of the race. The aid station at 5 miles came right on time, and gave a brief respite before the next section that was 9 miles long, with roughly 5000 feet of vert.

From here, the night became a blur, with huge climbs and steep descents to pass the time. One instance in the night does stand out…at one of the aid stations, I couldn’t help but notice a pet pig, on a leash, rustling around in the leaves. Now this in and of itself is an odd sighting at an aid station, but what made it even more strange was the smoker that was going behind the aid station table, and the promise of BBQ sandwiches on the way back. I was really excited at the prospects of the freshly smoked BBQ, but was a bit curious as to the fate of the pig. This gave me something to look forward to on the return trip.

As I approached the rising sun, I knew that two things were getting close. One, the turnaround was coming soon, and two, I would get to see my wife. Bev had flown into Charlottesville at 11:40pm, rented a car, and had driven to the 50-mile mark in the middle of the night… or at least that was the plan. I had marked time through the night by where her itinerary had her next, and by sunrise I knew that, God willing, I would be able to get a hug.

Shortly following the summit of Reddish Knob, I heard a “woooooo” that only my wife can make. I got a quick hug and a kiss, and told her to grab the gear box for some reloading, and that I would be back shortly. I made my way to Gnashing Knob, grabbed the best breakfast burrito I have ever had in my entire life (thick-cut bacon…mmmmmmm), and made my way back to my wife, and back towards the finish.

After a quick refreshing of supplies in my pack, I set off south, knowing that every step now was a step towards home. The plan was to have Bev “pace” me in from mile 80, so now it was time to work through miles 51-66, where I would see her again. This was a tough section for me. I was beginning to fall asleep while I was running, which is never a good idea, especially during a 4000 ft descent. I chugged caffeine and it helped, and I prayed and it helped more. I stayed the course unwavering, with my catch word being “preservation” – easy on the descents, gu-ing every 45 minutes, eating solid food – preserving my body to the finish.

This lends itself to a key insight for 100-mile running: It really is all in your mind. As long as you fuel your body, it can go indefinitely. Working out the things that occur in your head is what gets you to the finish line… how you work them out determines whether you arrive on foot or in a car.

I got to mile 66, fully recognizing the difficulty of what I had done, but cognizant enough to appreciate what I had left. 34 miles is not that far.
Following a pep talk from Bev and another reload on supplies, I set off into the day. It was during this section that I would learn the fate of the pig, and enjoy a BBQ sandwich. As I approached the aid station, with the smell of pork in the air, I noticed my pot-bellied friend was still alive. I am not sure that I really would have cared if I was eating a freshly butchered pig or not, but it was nice to see that he was still alive. I downed the pork sandwich and continued on. Forward.

Mile 80 came, and I changed into a long sleeve shirt, re-upped my pack, and Bev and I set out on the home stretch with no doubts on the finish. As you can tell from reading, I really had no comprehension of time, other than the positioning of the sun, and I could tell that it was to set on me yet again. The last 20 miles had about 5750’ of climbing in two climbs, and as with all the climbing thus far, most of it was straight up. It was on one of these ascents that I saw the Shenandoah valley, with the setting sun showing the brilliance of the colorful trees, and the shadows making the depth of the valley floor that much more awe-inspiring. I stopped and looked at my wife… ”This is why I do these, to see things like this.”

The sun set, our lights came on, and we kept going. Soon enough, we came out of the woods onto the steep decline down Elliot Knob. This was the only time I lost my cool in the whole race. I had thought that the aid station which marked 5 miles left to go was at the base of this road. But it wasn’t. We headed back into the woods, and onto more single track. I did not let on to Bev, but I am sure she could tell that I had lost some steam. Lesson learned: Be more familiar with the aid station locations.

I kept trudging on, determined. A blister had formed between my 3rd and 4th met heads, and was making it nearly impossible to run without searing pain shooting into my foot. The cold air had moved in, and I was going slow enough that staying warm could become an issue. I had to do something quick, so I GOT OUT OF MY HEAD AND KEPT MOVING FORWARD.

The final aid station finally came. I guzzled some coke and some mountain dew, and took off. I was moving now as fast as I could, trying my best to ignore the pain that was now making my whole foot feel like it was trying to bloom out of my shoe.

The trail seemed like a maze now, with intersections well-marked, but my processing speed so slow that it took me a while to convince myself I was going the right way. I came upon a sign that read “1 mile to go”. I told my wife that what that sign meant was that I had already gone 100.85 miles, and should have stopped by now.

On I trudged, down one last steep hazard, and around the lake, where I began to pick up the pace a bit… ”Surely I can run a bit now, right?” I said to Bev. “I’m sure you can” she replied. I ran it in for the last 200 yards, through the entry of the Boy Scout camp and to the finish line, where I hugged a big totem pole, marking the completion of the Grindstone 100, in 29 hours and some change.

So now I have my Hardrock qualifier. Just yesterday I mailed in my application, so we shall see what becomes of me. I will know by the first of December whether this will be the year, or if I will continue to become a “seasoned” runner before I go for it. Until then, I have a date with the Pinhoti Trail in November. VAMOS!

Shoes: Saucony Peregrine
Socks: Swiftwick 12”
Shorts: Brooks Sherpa
Shirts: Patagonia SS and LS
Pack: Nathan Endurance
Poles: Black Diamond Z-Poles

Umstead 100 2012

I love to run, and I really love a good long run in the park; therefore, the Umstead 100 miler, located at Umstead State Park in Raleigh, NC, seemed like a great idea! Coming off the heels of my recent slip-and-fall DNF, I was really excited to be a part of this race. The RD, Blake Norwood, is known for making the Umstead run one to be remembered, with extraordinary aid stations, a plethora of volunteers, and a course that lends itself to a good finish.

I had been on the periphery of this race the year before when my wife made it 80+ miles before succumbing to the elements and low blood sugar levels (which reduced her to a zombie), so I knew first-hand of the excitement that I was to experience throughout the day, and was more than excited to get another 100 mile finish, and maybe a PR.

The course is basically a crushed gravel road, in the fashion of a 12.5 mile loop. The total elevation is said to be 8000 feet, so I knew that the climbing would be minimal, and nothing like the enduring rope-climbs of the Double Top, which I had DNF’d at a month before. The weather set up to be wild throughout the day, with showers expected early, and sunshine throughout the day.

I knew that hydration, especially early, would be crucial to my success, so I tanked up the 100ozer several times the day before. Following the pre-race meeting and a plate of spaghetti ‘n’ meatballs, it was time to hit the hotel for some sleep.

So the alarm hit at 4am, and it was time to get to work! I ate my pre-race breakfast of a snickers bar, guzzled two cups of coffee, and my wife and I headed for the Park, arriving in plenty of time to get a prime parking place that would make it easy for our crew to spot us coming and going from the start/finish spur. At 5:55, the electricity was evident within all those gathered, and Blake took his position on the top of a stump and announced “5 minutes!”

All of the participants gathered together in the light rain that had begun to fall, ready for whatever the day might bring. “One minute!” was the announcement, and I waited patiently for the gun to fire…looking around, I recognized a few folks, but one stood out in particular…Mike Morton. I had just read a great article on his “comeback” to the sport, and I was excited to toe the line with such an awesome, but humble runner. Mike would go on to set the course record in 13:11.

The gun sounded, and we were off, into the darkness and the rain. The front runners were gone in an instant, while the rest of us began to feel for a pace that would get us to where we needed to be. My strategy for the day was this: seeing that it was raining at the start, I wanted to run the first few loops faster than would be appropriate for me. This would allow for me to slow down in the middle laps when the sun was going to come out, and thus be prepared to fight it out at the end of the day for a possible PR.

So off I went. Lap one in 1:49, and lap two in 1:50, and lap three in 2:06. Each visit to the aid station at mile 7 brought with it half of a PBJ, and I filled up my hand-held at every water stop (5 per loop). At each S/F spur, my buddy would hand me a pre-labeled baggie containing an appropriate number of GU’s, and I would request 2 generic oreo cookies. This was my pattern for fueling throughout the entire day…I never deviated from it. I used the PBJ’s and the cookies for sustainable fuel, and used the GU every 45 minutes for supplemental fuel. Every other lap, I was taking two Metasalt pills just to be sure that my electrolyte levels were where they needed to be.

Lap four brought the sun out for the first time, and also brought out a bit of a re-evaluation. Up to this point, I had not really been enjoying myself. I was certainly pumping out some splits, and I felt fine in terms of energy, but my head was in the wrong spot. The Umstead course lends itself to seeing large numbers of participants due to an out-and-back spur near the start, and a few overlaps in the loop.

I began to notice the other participant’s faces, and how much most of them were enjoying themselves, giving cheers of encouragement to me as I passed…and what was I doing for them? Nothing…just giving a bit of a head nod in acknowledgment. And that is not me, and that is not the sport that I know. The accomplishment of being on your feet for 100 miles, no matter the pace, place, or time, is the driving factor of everybody out there, and shame on me for not giving the other participants the same amount of encouragement, if not more! While I was on pace to be done at a reasonable time, there were many out there that would be persevering through the whole of the night, and into the morning sunrise, expending much more energy and showing much more perseverance than I would be.

So I pulled up on my pace, and decided to be me again. I began encouraging most all of the runners that I passed by, and for the first time that day I felt the camaraderie that makes ultrarunning contagious. And I began smiling, and loving the run, and loving being out there, and soon enough, I came up on my wife who was finishing up her third lap. I decided to run in the rest of the loop with her, and experience at least a part of the day together. I finished up lap four in 2:22.

Heading out on lap five, with an all new perspective on this thing, I felt great, and knew that I only had 50 miles left to run. The sun was out full-blast at this point, and the humidity was rising steadily, making for more of a jungle-like feel to the afternoon. While much of the course is shaded, the foliage does serve to hold the moisture, so staying well hydrated was the only option there was. I drank a ton this lap, both water and Gatorade, and managed to stay on top of it.

NOTE TO ALL FUTURE UMSTEAD RUNNERS: WEAR GAITERS! I did NOT wear any gaiters, and my poor feet were beginning to pay for my lack of foresight. At both the start/finish and at the aid station, I would have to sit down and empty the accumulated quarry of rock that was in my shoes. By the end of the day, I had a few mean blood blisters, but oh well, what are you gonna do, but keep moving forward. Lap five split was a 2:32.

Lap six began with the knowledge that I only had 37.5 miles to go…not that far! My plan was to stay conservative here, while the late afternoon sun was out and the heat was up. I stuck with my plan of being present, in the here-and-now of the race, continuing to dispense encouragement to my fellow runners, and just to enjoy the day. I began to formulate a plan for the last two loops, as I knew that finishing would not be an issue, but a PR was in reach. I put the ipod shuffle on, and immersed myself in some killer tunes, dissociating from song to song, but always staying cognizant enough to be in the moment, with the course, and with my comrades. I came to the start/finish area, changed into a dry Patagonia shirt, got the headlamp, got my GU’s, ate my cookies, dumped out the rocks from my shoes, and headed back out. Lap six split was 2:44.

I began to do a bit of calculating in my brain, and figured out that if I ran smart and conservative for loop seven, I could try and “blast out” (a relative term on stiff legs) loop 8 and beat my PR, set at Rocky Raccoon, of 19:12. As darkness set in, the figures that were once my fellow racing participants became dark shadows with beams of light…kinda like Cyclops, I guess.

There were now but a few moments of encouragement from all of us to one another, as we knew that with the dark came the real challenges of the race. I continued to keep a very conservative pace throughout this loop, taking my time and waiting for loop 8. The ipod was not letting me down, pumping out hit after hit, working in combination with the maximum levels of caffeine that I was ingesting from my GU Roctane, keeping my energy level up and my enthusiasm high. The finish was near; all I had to do was get there.

I have found that in each 100 miler I do, I always learn something about running long distances, and this time was no different. I began to realize that, if I just had the courage to run, that I could. Following a walk break or an uphill section, it is always a challenge to get the stiff legs to turn over once again, and in past runs, I have seemed to be more hesitant about starting back running. But this time, I knew that if I just had the courage to start back, that I could, and when I did start back, the stiffness and discomfort goes away, and before you know it, you are moving at a good clip. This became my mantra for the rest of the run…”just have the courage, JB…strong and courageous”.

I finished up loop seven in 2:50, my slowest loop of the day, but the great part of it was that I had gone that slowly purposefully. The course, nor the fatigue, made me go that slow, but the discipline and the desire of a PR had me going slow…and now it was time to get the job done!

I headed back out on my final loop with the clock reading 16:18. I knew I had this PR if I just stayed on track and was disciplined. I continued eating GU every 45 minutes, right up to the end, to insure that there was fuel in the tank. Lightning began to light up the sky, and what was in the distance came right on top of us in a hurry. The wind picked up, and the thunder was clapping much louder than the beats on my ipod.

Soon enough, I was running in a full-fledged thunderstorm, in all its power, and I was feeding off the fury. I cruised into the aid station, dumped out my shoes, grabbed my last half of a PBJ for the day, thanked the volunteers for taking care of me, and headed back into the woods, determined to break my PR. I glanced down at my watch, and it read 17:29…but it had read 17:29 at my last glance…so I realized that my battery was dead, and that I really didn’t know what the time was…but one thing I knew was that if I gave it all I had from this point on, all the way to the finish, I would be golden, and I would have a new PR.

So I hit it, and ran as much of the “sawtooth” section of the course as I could, but walked what I had to. I cruised down the hill at mile 10, opening up my gait, determined that I would finish with everything I had. Up the hill to about mile 10.5, and then I determined to be courageous, and run every last step of this thing, as fast as I could. I began making some really weird sounds, kind of a cross between a grunt and a growl, and with each step it became louder and louder. I passed mile mark 11…courageous…pounded up and over “widowmaker”…strong and courageous…I was looking for the turn-off now that would take me to the finish line, and before I knew it, there it was…now it’s time to let it all go.

I hit that last half mile as hard as I have ever run, riding the momentum of the downhill and the adrenaline of the moment into the uphill steps to the finish, guiding my steps with reckless abandon, and hitting the finish line…but what was my time? My watch was dead…the finish clock was temporarily down…had I done it? My effort said “surely”, but I really had no idea.

My wife’s friend was there at the finish giving me a big congrats…”What was my time?” I asked. “18:57” she replied. I released a big, big sigh…I did it! 13th OA and a new PR! And the excitement of the day wasn’t even over! My wife had come back for revenge on the course that had defeated her the previous year, and she meticulously made her way towards redemption, one step at a time, and came through in 23:30. Awesome job! I am so proud of her perseverance, and even though right after finishing she swore that she wouldn’t do another hundred miler, I know she is already plotting out her next one!

I love running, and I love running a long ways, through the woods, or wherever the path may take me. I am so thankful for each step that I get to take, and am thankful and grateful for the experiences and the people and the camaraderie that ultrarunning gives to me. Thanks to the RD Blake Norwood for allowing me to participate in this great event, and thanks to Rock/Creek for letting me pimp the logo for 18+ hours in the best running apparel out there. Congrats to all finishers and a big “thank you” to all of the participants for allowing me to be a part of something that is bigger than all of us. I can’t wait to get back out there and toe the line once again, and I hope that you can’t either! See you out there!!!! LONG LIVE THE RUN!!!