A Race for the Ages - Manchester, TN. Sept. 5-7, 2015

 Get the boring stuff out of the way!

I will dedicate a few paragraphs to my run at A Race for the Ages.   However, the real story is about the amazing group of legendary ultrarunners that were brought together for this event.  Their accomplishments and stories are amazing.   It was truly an honor to run with this field of greats. 

My experience with timed events was forged at the Delano Park 12 Hour Run in Decatur, Alabama.  I've toed the line at this race several times over the years and really enjoyed the format of a timed race.   They really become an event as much as a race.  You get to run, socialize, and generally just have a good time. So, when I saw that Gary Cantrell (aka Lazarus Lake) was putting on a timed event in Manchester, Tennessee, I signed up immediately.   For those that have been hiding under a rock, Laz is the legendary race director and founder of the Barkley Marathons and Strolling Jim, just to name two of his races.   So, I knew this event would be special....and by special, I mean painful.

Laz designed the race to give a clear advantage to older runners.  The race ended on Labor Day at 6:00 pm.   Each runner was given an hour for every year of your age, and you backed up from the finishing time by that many hours.   So, I'm 48 years old, so I had 48 hours to run.  I started on Saturday, at 6:00 pm.   The oldest runner was Dan Baglione at 84.  So, Dan started at 6:00 am on Friday morning.   By the way, at 84 years old Dan got in 101 miles.

 (The architect, Lazarus Lake.  Laz got in 101 miles over 61 hours.  And yes, one night as he rounded a curve on the course, I saw him reach into his shirt pocket, pull out one of his signature Camels, and light up.  Old school.)

(Prior to my start on Saturday)

The long and the short of my race is I got in 120 miles over 48 hours.   I slept too much.  I burned over two hours Monday afternoon sawing logs, when I should have been running.  Lesson learned:  Set the alarm on my phone!  It was hot and humid and it was on black top.  The end.

However, I did have some great moments out on the course.   One of the best moments came when I was running with DeWayne Satterfield and I heard Joe Fejes coming up behind us.   Most ultrarunners have a distinct "thing" they do when they are running in the zone.  Satterfield has his grunt, but Fejes has this little staccato cough.   So you can hear Joe coming before he ever passes you.  Needless to say, I got used to Joe passing me.   But this time, I said to DeWayne, let's pick up the pace and run with Joe.   Now, DeWayne had already ran several loops with Joe earlier, and he said, "We'll burn out our legs."   I think that was DeWayne's nice way of saying, Shar, you will burn out your legs.   

Anyway, as Joe passed we picked up our pace and took off.  Fejes smiled and asked me how I was doing (I was just holding on)....Anyway, we ran about three quarters of a mile with Joe.  I jumped out in front, followed by DeWayne and Joe.  I fell off as we passed the Start/Finish line, and they just kept trucking.

Another great moment came when I was running with Tom Possert and he was pointing out all of the great runners on the course and their accomplishments.  Tom is like an encyclopedia of ultrarunning knowledge.

I also had a chance to meet Ann Trason and tell her how much I enjoyed reading her "Ask Ann" column in Ultrarunning magazine.   She later told me to submit a question to "Ask Ann" about the race.  So, I did.  We will see if my question makes the cut!

Others that I had a great time with were Christian Griffith, a guy whose blog got me hooked on this crazy sport of ultrarunning; Kelley Wells, who I met the first time I DNF'd the Graveyard 100 and again this year when she won the Graveyard and I went sub-24; Jeff Deaton, who I met a couple of years ago when we ran the Snakebite 50K and later Thunder Rock 100, and "The Kid" John Nevels, who, a couple of years ago, ran from south Alabama all the way to north Alabama to raise money for victims of the terrible tornado outbreak we had in the State.    

The Legends

Let me wrap this up by providing some brief bios of just a handful of greats that were on the course.

Edwin Demoney (81):  "...best known for his pivotal role in the foundation of trail running on the East Coast."  His 100 miles at A Race for the Ages placed him in one of the most exclusive clubs in ultrarunning -- he has completed 100 mile races in five consecutive decades.

Don Winkley (77):  In 1991, set a 48 hour personal best in Surgeres with 200 miles 910 yards.  He is one of only a handful of Americans to have run a 1000 mile race in modern times.  In July 2011, Don won the Vol State 500km at the age of 73.  (I spent some time with Don at lunch on Monday.  Great guy.)

Fred Pilon (69):  Founded Ultrarunning magazine in 1982; Co-editor with Peter Gagarin and Stan Wagon for many years.  Personal best for 100 miles:  19:24:16; for 50 miles: 6:56:00

Dan Williams (66):  21 Western States 100 finishes -- 16 of them sub 24.

David Horton (65):  Finisher of the Barkley Marathons, 2001; Won 40 ultras and has competed in 160 ultras.  Finished 3rd in the Trans-America Race in 1995.  Set speed records on the Appalachian Trail in 1991 and the speed record on the Pacific Crest Trail in 2005.   Won the first two Hardrock 100 milers in 1992 and 1993.  Founder of the Mountain Masochist 50 mile race, and numerous other races.

Ray Krolewicz (60):  "Has won more ultras than anyone in history."  100 mile finishes in 5 consecutive decades.  Personal Bests:  50K:  3:09:51; 50 mile: 5:28:58; 100 miles: 13:58:07.  3 Spartathlon finishes in a row.

Liz Bauer (56):  Named Masters Female Trail Runner of the Year by Trail Runner Magazine "for the mind-boggling feat of finishing a record 36 100-mile races in a single year (2012)."  Five or more finishes at Leadville, Hardrock, Old Dominion, Umstead, and Arkansas Traveller.

Ann Trason (55):  "Trason has broken twenty world records during her career."  14 time Western States 100 winner and held the women's division course record for 18 years.  4 time women's winner at the Leadville 100. Winner of the Comrades Marathon.  (My hands would fall off if I kept typing all of her wins and records.)

Tom Possert (53):  3 time Badwater Ultramarathon winner.   2 time Strolling Jim winner.  Alaska Wilderness Classic 250 mile winner.   First American to place in the top ten at Marathon Des Sables.

DeWayne Satterfield (51):  "Completed over 200 ultras with 61 overall wins and still holds several course records."  9 time Mountain Mist 50K winner. First person to break four days on the Vol State 500K race.

Joe Fejes (49):  "Currently the dominant multiday runner in the world."  First American in over 100 years to record over 600 miles in 6 days.  In less than 12 months, won 6-Days in the Dome (Alaska), Balaton 6-Day (Hungary), Across the Years 6-Day (Arizona).   Current record holder on the Vol State 500K.

Shar Hendrick (48):  Second place at the 2014 Sherwood Park 5K

  

(My third 100 mile buckle)

(This was my first race as a member of the OTBX Racing Team.  Don Alan Hankins provided lots of good beer.  David Holliday, my OTBX team member, brought it up.  Those cold beers were a highly sought after commodity at the end of a very hot race.)

The Future of Going Long

I wrote the following article for the July/August 2015 issue of the Huntsville Track Club News.

Over the course of the past two years, I completed my first two 100 mile races.  I haven’t been alone in this endeavor.  Several of our fellow HTC members have earned that coveted 100 mile buckle too, and others have been mastering this distance for some time.   However, as I was resting on my laurels thinking of those future days when I might brag about running 100 miles to my, as yet to be born, grandchildren, I was brought down from my high horse by a couple of articles that appeared in two different running magazines.

The first article was more of a brief blurb in the January/February 2015 edition of Ultrarunning magazine.  The title was, “200 is the new 100.”  The article pointed out that there are now over 135 100 mile races to choose from in North America.  Given that, many ultrarunners are now looking for new challenges.   The inaugural Tahoe 200 was so popular in 2014, that it has already instituted a lottery for entry.   The article notes that several new 200 mile races are taking place this year and others are in the works.  

While I was trying to digest the idea of a point to point 200 mile race – not a stage race – but a non-stop 200 miler, I was hit with the next article in the May/June 2015 issue of The Running Times, titled, “Is 100 Miles the New Marathon?”   The title has a little more shock value than the actual article, but it serves to get your attention.   It points out that 100 mile finishers have grown from 1,378 to 7,029 in the U.S. since 2003.   In 2014 alone, the number jumped by 17 percent.  Now, to put that in perspective, last year the New York City Marathon alone had 50,530 finishers.  However, the intent of the article is that many elite runners at various distances up to the marathon are now looking to ultra-distances as a next step, and a new challenge.

So, where does this leave us?  Clearly, the sport of ultramarathons and its closely related cousin, the trail run, are growing in popularity.   As these events become more popular we are undoubtedly going to see race distances continue to grow as the long runner looks for new challenges.   Also, as the sport continues to attract elite runners, the incredible capability of the human body will continue to amaze.  As an example, this year at the Graveyard 100, in North Carolina, the race was won by Marco Bonfiglio, of Italy, with a time of 13:01:52, and an average pace of 7:49 a mile.  He had no crew and no pacer.   When you wrap your head around that, you can see that this is an area of the running experience that will continue to entice runners at all levels to explore the limits of their capabilities.

For me, I’ve registered for “A Race for the Ages” in Manchester, Tennessee in September.   It’s a timed event and I will have 48 hours to see how far I can go beyond 100 miles.   After all, at whatever distance we choose, as runners we all want to keep knocking down those walls.   Have fun out there! 

McKay Hollow Madness 25K, March 28, 2015

The Madness

Prologue

"We run and race for myriad reasons -- competition, fitness, adventure, challenge, the list goes on.  I imagine some, if not most, are like me...I often wonder if I am chasing something or running from something.  I suspect it's a bit of both.  Either way, run until your heart is full and you can find peace."

-DeWayne Satterfield

Mountain Mist 50K Race Report

Ultrarunning magazine, April 2015 issue

McKay Hollow

As runners, we all know that life has a funny way of intersecting with our running.  I realize that sounds a little funny.  I certainly recognize that running is part of my life, but I also know that in many instances running serves as a catharsis to deal with  life's pitfalls and challenges.   I arrived at the start of the McKay Hollow 25K this year with what I can only describe as a heavy heart.  I'm not going to bore you with the details, but in some form, I suspect we've all been there.  On this day, I needed McKay Hollow not only to serve as a challenging run, but to serve as a mechanism to clear my head and heart and to get me reoriented.   That's a lot to ask from the trails of Monte Sano, but a run through the woods has never ceased to rejuvenate and refocus me.

The Race Begins

Besides at least three RD's over the years, the McKay Hollow Madness course has gone through more incarnations than the late Michael Jackson.  It started as a trail half marathon, and then for one year it got extended to a 14 mile course, and once it became a 25K, the course still went through a tweak or two.   But one thing has held constant -- this race has always been centered around some of the most challenging trails that Monte Sano Mountain has to offer.

Cary Long was serving as the the new Race Director this year, taking over from Blake Thompson. Cary made a few logistical announcements about the course, conducted a quick trivia contest centered around his hemorrhoids, and led us in prayer -- seriously, you can't make this stuff up - from hemorrhoid trivia to a prayer -- welcome to The Wonderful World of Cary, or CaryLand, or DollyLong, you pick......anyway, the race started and we were off!

(Race Director, Cary Long, yelling at children to get off the see-saws)

Start to Aid Station 1, O'Shaughnessy Point, 5.1 miles

We started at the main pavilion in the State Park and after a run down the road and brief sections of the North Plateau Trail and more road, we took a turn down the North Sinks Trail head and the real trail race was underway.   I clocked an 8:35 for the first mile, but once we started down the trail, I was stuck in a "runner train" and my pace fell back to 11:20 for a period.

(Trying to find the trail head)

After moving down the Sinks trail, we hit the Logan Point trail and took that to Panther Knob.  This section presents a real tough climb on all fours, and for a tall guy like myself, you are pretty much guaranteed a head to rock encounter as you squeeze through a section of climb where you are pretty sure you are not supposed to go.  The first year I covered this section of the race I was sure I had taken a wrong turn moving through the stone cuts.  Nope, you really are supposed to crawl through, and up this thing.

When I got to the top of the climb, the course goes back to the Sinks trail and down a section of the Mountain Mist trail.

Eventually I made it over to Warpath Ridge and more climbing up to the first Aid Station at O'Shaughnessy Point.  I topped off my bottle and grabbed a cup of Mountain Dew (the miracle elixir).  I downed a Hammer gel  as I made my way down the South Plateau Trail towards the McKay Hollow trail. (And I held onto the gel wrapper until I passed a volunteer who took it from me.  Don't leave junk on the trails.  That's my sermon for the week.)

Aid Station 1 to Aid Station 2, Monte Sano Boulevard at Burritt, 9.8 miles

Coming off the South Plateau Trail, I took a sharp turn on the McKay Hollow trail which plunges down into ????...you guessed it, the Hollow.  Once at the bottom, the trail becomes very muddy.   I actually made pretty good time through this section, recalling Rob Youngren's time honored advice -- "Embrace the Mud." I ran with Don Alan Hankins through this section.  Don Alan is the RD for Dizzy 50's and has done a great job with that trail race.   Chad Woods also ran with us during this section.  I busted somewhere along the way and they both kept motoring towards really nice finishes.

(Yeah, I don't know where I am, but that's a photo of me somewhere on Monte Sano.  I'm sporting my Johnny Cash, "Man in Black" look.)

I was glad to get to Arrowhead and the Arrowhead extension trail.   The extension section is one of the most scenic trails on Monte Sano.  It is beautiful single track where you can open it up a bit and really run.   I made the most of it.  I took advantage of some runners behind me to push myself through this section.

Again, with tough trails to navigate, it is always nice to reach an Aid Station.  I dropped another Nuun tablet into my water bottle and got a big handful of peanut butter filled pretzels -- SuperFood.

Aid Station 2 to the Finish, Overlook Pavilion, 25K (15.5 miles)

This next section of the course eventually takes you down the Natural Well trail to the newly revitalized Son of a Bitch Ditch.   SOB ditch had been severely washed out with storms over the past few years and was littered with huge, downed trees which made crossing it very hazardous (picture unstable land, susceptible to slides, with huge, downed trees sitting on top of it all.)  Over time, the land settled a bit and with the use of some chain saws, jackhammers, and other tools, a local Girl Scout Troop carved out a nice path through the debris -- (I might not be exactly right about that....they may have used hand axes.)  So, this year, instead of bushwhacking around the ditch, we were able to once again run this section.  Granted, it still lives up to its name.

(A photo of the Troop after fixing SOB Ditch.  Thanks, girls! You're each going to receive an SOB merit badge! )

Eventually, the course takes you back to Arrowhead trail and I was able to pick up a little steam again.   At this point, Rick Callaway and my running nemesis, Sam the dog,  caught up with me. Sam is Rick's trail running buddy and only friend.   Sam beat me at Dizzy 50 and I could sense he smelled blood in the water this time as well.  This was my longest run since the Graveyard 100, and my legs were already starting to feel like noodles.   Sam was just waiting for the right moment.

(Sam -- Don't be fooled by his friendly face.  He's a cutthroat racer.)

As Sam continued to breath down my neck, I was trying to pick up my pace down a violently smooth section of trail.  At that point it happened, I tripped on the idea of a rock and went down.   Sam passed me, shook some drool on me and was about to hike a leg until Rick called him down.  Thanks, Rick! Sam put another notch in his little orange running pack.

Forget "STOP PRE,"  I want a "STOP SAM" t-shirt!

I finally made it to the bottom of Death Trail and started the climb up.   Dianna Cioppi, my new Death Trail best buddy was right behind me for the climb.   We passed the Happy HEMSI guy who was shouting encouragement to us as we made our way up.  He encouraged us to be careful as we got higher up the trail, due to the sheer side of the path, but he said, "You runner's never listen anyway," or something like that.   I just thanked him for calling us runners, because we weren't exactly running at that point.

We finally got up to the waterfall and made it across the finish line at the Overlook Pavilion.  Overall, it was a gratifying finish.  I finished in 3:25:04, which was a McKay Hollow 25K PR for me.  It's not the best time in the world, but hey, me and my wobbly legs will take it.

   

Final Thoughts

I started this report with the fact that I came into this race struggling.  I can't say it fixed everything, but I do believe in the healing power of a good run, of a hard physical challenge.   It can help establish perspective; it can erase frustration, and it is a great and cheap life coach.   If anything, the long run is always a reminder of the old saying that life is a marathon, not a sprint.   There is so much opportunity in all aspects of life, if you just take the long view.

  

     

Graveyard 100, March 7, 2015

Rising from the Wreckage

Brandon Wilson, the Race Director for The Graveyard 100 likes to point out that over 1000 ships have sunk off the coast of the Outer Banks of North Carolina, thus the name -- The Graveyard of the Atlantic.  To the runners who sign up for this race, he asks one question, "Will you be next?"

In 2012, I signed up for this race in an attempt to complete my first 100 mile run.   There are several 100 milers that bill themselves as good courses for those looking to finish their first 100.   This isn't one of them.   This course is challenging.  It's a point to point run from Corolla to Hatteras, NC, down a narrow strip of seashore known as the Outer Banks, with water on both sides.   It's run completely on blacktop, with total exposure all day long.  For a trail runner accustomed to the coverage of a canopy for the majority of a race, this was a rude awakening.  

So, in 2012 the S.S. Hendrick started taking on water around mile 40 in the form of blisters on the bottom of my feet, and by the 3rd Aid Station around mile 62, my feet were totally wrecked, and I was struggling big time.   I made it out of the Aid Station and continued on, but did not make it to the final Aid Station at mile 87 under the cut off.  I sank.

I learned a lot from that first attempt.   I was too heavy and needed to lose some weight and get my food choices under control; I had not trained nearly enough -- relying on training that would be appropriate for a 12 hour, timed run.   I picked the wrong shoe.   I really liked Brooks Green Silence. It was a light weight trainer and I'd run a half and full marathon in them, with no problems. Also, I'd read where Scott Jurek had set the American 24 hour record in them.   I had a rude awakening on the Outer Banks of North Carolina in 2012 -- I was not exactly built like Scott Jurek.   I needed way more shoe for 100 miles on asphalt.

As time marched on, I finished my first 100 miler at Thunder Rock, which is run through the Cherokee National Forest in Tennessee.   As satisfying as that was, I could not shake the DNF monkey off my back from Graveyard.   Finally, in the summer of 2014, I decided I would head back to the GY 100 and get my buckle.    However, I knew I had to do things totally different than before, and I couldn't rely on the type of trail running I had used as my primary source of training for Thunder Rock.

New Day, New Plan

I knew Rob and Kathy Youngren had run some of the most grueling road ultras out there, including Spartathlon and Badwater. They also have a consulting business and will work with runners on putting together training plans geared to their specific situation and race goal.   Long story short, they put together an awesome plan for me and I stuck to it.

I started the plan in September 2014, and as time progressed, I saw the benefits taking shape very early -- going below 4 hours on a marathon for the first time on my 12th attempt, setting an overall 50K PR at Recover From the Holidays, and setting a course PR at Mountain Mist 50K.

I knew the plan was working and that knowledge kept me going through the very cold runs in January and February.

Finally, I found the "right tool for the job" in the form of a "maximalist" shoe.   There are a lot of good ones on the market today, but I settled on the Hoka Bondi for the majority of my training runs, and the Hoka Clifton, which is a little lighter, but still very cushioned, for races.

Graveyard 2015

I wound up arriving at the Hotel in Duck, North Carolina, that was serving as the race HQ, on Thursday, prior to the race on Saturday.   I had to leave Huntsville a day earlier than planned to beat an ice storm that was forecast.   It worked out great because I was able to have dinner that night with Brandon and Heather Wilson, and Kelley Wells, the eventual women's winner.  Brandon was able to give me some updates on the course that had changed since 2012.   I also found out that Brandon has taken over RD responsibilities for Laurel Valley...Hmmmmm.  Something to ponder on another day.
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Fast Forward to the Race Start (Start to Aid Station 1 ~mile 21.4, Southern Shores Vol. Fire Dept.)

After the National Anthem, the race started promptly at 5:00 am (EST) on Saturday morning in Currituck Park, next to the Light House.  We first ran 2 miles north where the road dead ends into the ocean in Corolla, and then we turned south for the duration of the race.

Currituck Lighthouse (stock photo - we started before daylight)

I fell in with a runner named, Tony Trigg.  I learned that Tony was in the Navy and had run several 100K's and this was his first 100.   Tony and I were running about a 9:20 to 9:30 pace.   I knew this was little fast for me, but I also subscribe to the notion that you should make hay while the sun is shining.   I knew I would just be hanging on towards the end, so I didn't sweat this pace too much.   We made it through the second and third water stops and always seemed to catch up to each other afterward.  I was fortunate to have a crew this time meeting me at water stops to help with snacks, gels, etc.  It makes a difference.  We were running through the picturesque resort town of Duck, North Carolina, and I knew that I should soak up the scenery, because it would soon change.

We ran to the Southern Shores Volunteer Fire Station that served as the first Aid Station and I made a pretty quick turnaround.   I probably only spent 2 or 3 minutes.   As I got started, I didn't see Tony, so I pressed on.

Aid Station 1 to Aid Station 2 ~ 40.9 miles, Nags Head

I ran from Aid 1 to Aid 2 on my own.   The GY 100 has a cap of 100 runners, and only 90 towed the line for the start, so as you can imagine, it thins out pretty quickly.   The limited number of runners, plus the reality of the OBX during the off season, gives rise to the tag line for the GY 100 - "We Specialize in Isolation."   Don't get me wrong, the first half of the race is run through civilization, it is just pretty sparse.  I took advantage of this time, to back my pace down to 9:55 to 10:20.  

I made it through water stops in Kitty Hawk and Kill Devil Hills.  As I passed the Wright brothers museum, the Huntsvillian in me could not help but appreciate that I was running across the hallowed ground that gave birth to powered flight.  My moment of nerd.

Anyway, I pulled into Aid Station 2 at the South Nags Head Fire Station feeling pretty good.   I did go against my cardinal rule -- I sat down.   But, I used the opportunity to eat a hot cup of potato soup and get some other food down.   It really revitalized me, and I was off.

Aid Station 2 to Aid Station 3 ~ 62.9 miles, Rodanthe

After leaving Aid Station 2, I continued down Highway 12 and could see the Bodie Island Lighthouse on my right.  In 2012, we actually ran out to the lighthouse and back, but due to the new route at the beginning, picking up those miles is no longer necessary.  I got a surge of adrenaline knowing that I was approaching the halfway point.   The halfway point comes roughly at the Bonner Bridge, which spans two miles and in my view, connects civilization with the desolate landscape of the Cape Hatteras National Sea Shore.   It is sand dunes and more sand dunes.  You know how a national forest is primarily unmolested acres and acres of wilderness, a national seashore is the same thing -- only with sand and water and the occasional pavilion.  Beautiful, but desolate.

Bodie Island Lighthouse (stock photo)

Bonner Bridge - Halfway Point (stock photo)

Cape Hatteras National Sea Shore

The day was definitely catching up to me as I saw the town of Rodanthe rising up on the horizon. The small towns of Rodanthe, Waves, and Salvo are seamlessly connected and are the oasis in the middle of the seashore.  The 3rd Aid Station is located at the  Rodanthe Community Center.   I know I took a full 20 minutes at this Aid Station.   I needed real food, and my stomach was not in great shape.   I sipped some ginger ale to settle it.   I really had to get right with the world at this point.  It was undoubtedly my low point.  I never doubted that I was going to be able to finish, but I also knew I had to get my stomach back in line.

Picture of Diane Lane from the movie, "Nights in Rodanthe."  She was not at the Aid Station.

I  think time, real food, and ginger ale worked for me, and I was able to pick up my pace leaving Rodanthe and made really good time to the next water stop which was about 4.5 miles down the road.  The sun had set and I had made the change to my night running gear.   Because the roads of Graveyard are not closed, in addition to a headlamp, you have to wear a light on your back as well as reflective clothing.   This is a rule put in place for the safety of the runners and it is also required by the U.S. Park Service.

Aid Station 3 to Aid Station 4, mile 87.3,  Hatteras Light House

The cruel thing about a lighthouse at night, is that you can see it for miles and miles away.   I know this is a good thing for ships, but for a Graveyard runner, you know that the last Aid Station is located in the parking lot of the lighthouse, but you run, and run, and run and it never seems to get closer. It is always at the end of the road and it is very bright!

So, you take solace in the beautiful full moon that is rising to your left and the magnificent stars overhead, totally free of any glare caused by the lights of a town -- because other than the occasional road light, it is dark out on the Hatteras National Sea Shore --- with the exception of the light house and it's beam that rhythmically sweeps around.   It becomes your companion for 20 miles or so before you ever reach it.

   

Hatteras Lighthouse (stock photo)

Around mile 30 or so, I had implemented a run/walk strategy -- I would run 2 miles and then walk for 20 to thirty yards and then pick it up again.  If I was feeling good, I would sometimes skip the walk and run for 4 miles, slowing my pace if needed but maintaining a run.   As I passed the 75 mile mark, I degenerated to a run of a little over a mile, followed by my standard walk.   A flat course is a little challenging with regard to finding the right balance.   On a trail run, the terrain often dictates your walk or power hike strategy, but on an ultra distance road run, you've got to experiment and figure out what works best for you.  I had been able to try a few things during my training runs, and I decided to get away from specific timed intervals and focus on the distance of my run between walks. That approach worked for me.

My old stomach problems were still nagging me a bit.  I yacked at a water stop along the way and realized it was time for a change.  Nuun and Hammer Gels had served me well through most of the run, but as many of you know, you reach a point when you can't stomach any more sports drink of any kind and you can't face eating another gel.  So, I switched to water and Endurolyte caps for my electrolyte needs.  My stomach settled and I was good for the remainder of the run. 

I finally made the turn and headed out to the Hatteras Lighthouse.   This was a huge moment for me. It was at this spot in 2012, when the RD pulled up in a van beside me to let me know my race was over.   However, as I approached the final Aid Station this year, I was more than 7 hours under the cutoff. I can't begin to express how good that felt.   My brain was dancing with that reality, but my body was in need of some real food, so again, I took a little time to eat some potato soup, and get some ginger ale down.  I also ran into Tony Trigg at this Aid Station; it's the first time we'd crossed paths since our initial run together early in the race.  Tony was taking a little time to get right, but he finished strong.   As I left the Aid Station, a kind volunteer sent me on my way with a pack of orange Lance peanut butter crackers.  Those little orange things hit the spot.

Aid Station 4 to mile 100.4, The Finish Line at The Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum   

I took a left at the end of the Hatteras Lighthouse road and was on my way to the finish.   Now, anyone that knows me well, knows that I have a terrible sense of direction and I do have a tendency to get lost (reference Thunder Rock 100 race report).   As I ran down the road, I started to get this sinking feeling that I had missed a turn.   Visions of my extra 4.5 miles at Thunder Rock started playing in my head.   I just knew I had messed up again.   There were no runners behind me as far as I could see and no blinking lights ahead of me.  Not good.   However, instead of backtracking as I'd done at Thunder Rock, I decided to stick to my guns and just keep moving.   It paid off.   I came across a crew that had stopped short of the final water stop and I ran over to their truck.  The guys jumped out and said, "Hey man, can we help you?"   I said, "Am I on the right road?"  They said, "Absolutely!  You're doing great.  A few runners came through a few minutes ago.  Just keep going!"  They asked if I needed anything -- food or water?   I told them they gave me all I needed -- peace of mind.

I made the final water stop and didn't slow down that much.   I wish I would have had the sense to trade out my headlamp, because the batteries were just about shot, but all I could think about was pushing to the end.   

Finally, the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum came into view and I could see the finish line.   I made it across the finish line in 22:16:52, 24th overall, 20th male.   90 runners started and 66 finished.   For me, it was sweet, sweet, sweet, redemption.

    

 







        





        

Mountain Mist 50K Trail Run, January 24, 2015

The Thing that is Mountain Mist

Several years ago, David Horton was the guest speaker at the pre-race dinner for Mountain Mist.   For those that aren't familiar with David, he is one of the most accomplished ultrarunners around.  During the Q&A portion of his talk, he was asked of all of his accomplishments over the years, which one meant the most.   Without hesitation, he said completing the Barkley Marathons.  He elaborated by saying that in the ultrarunning community, we often point to the most sadistic thing we have ever accomplished as the race that means the most to us.   Now, to put that into context, David has won the Hardrock 100 twice; competed in the Race Across America and came in 3rd; and set speed records on the Appalachian Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail.

His talk really resonated with me, and as I have reflected on it over the years, I've come to the conclusion that the reason that Mountain Mist holds so much meaning for me is because it is the most sadistic race I run on a regular basis.   It is truly a beast.  In the Huntsville running community, we often say that if you can run the trails of Monte Sano Mountain, you can compete in any trail race out there.   Monte Sano has it all -- roots, rocks, mud, an awesome array of single track trails, combined with challenging climbs and water in all of its various forms.   This is the setting for the 31 mile Mountain Mist Trail Run.

A friend of mine jokingly asked me once if I fell on every run that I do; I laughed and said, yeah just about.   But the truth is, most of my falls have taken place on Monte Sano.   I ran Thunder Rock 100 without falling once; I've finished the Stump Jump 50K twice without face planting, and the same for the Cheaha 50K, and the Snakebite 50K, but Mountain Mist is a different animal.   There are tons of opportunities during this race to find yourself eye level with the trail.  It is technical with a capital "T."

So, Let's go for a Run through the Woods (Race Start through O'Shaughnessey Point Aid Station, 6.4 Miles)

The weather for Mountain Mist is always unpredictable.  Dink Taylor, the Race Director, says that the race controls the weather and that our local weathermen don't understand that fact.   He probably is right.  The 10 day forecast showed dry weather for the week.  However, as race day approached, things really started to change. It rained the day before the race, ensuring the trails would be a little extra sloppy and slick, and the night before the 7:30 a.m. start, the rain turned to snow on the top of Monte Sano, so we had a nice dusting to start the race.

My brother, Spurgeon, has made this an annual event and I always enjoy running this race with him.   I'm sure one of these days, when we are confined to rocking chairs (or wheelchairs, thanks to Mtn, Mist), we can share great stories.   Anyway, the gun went off and we started the race.  I was hanging just behind him as we headed out on a section of road, that quickly turned into a wide family bike trail.  He was chatting it up with one of his running buddies, and I took the opportunity to take a quick look at my Suunto watch, which showed that we were running at an 8:05 pace.   That was just crazy.  I believe in making hay while the sun is shining, but I didn't need to be heading out at that pace, so I dropped back to about 8:45.   I didn't say anything to him, but watched as he pulled away.   All the while I was thinking, "Okay, speedracer.  Head out at that pace and I am just going to reel you in, on the back half of this course when you blow up."   I was sure this was going to be the year I beat him.  Although, I was in the middle of an 85 mile training week, I had noticed on STRAVA that he was not clocking a ton of miles leading up to the race.  While I may have been running on overtrained, tired legs, I was sure he was running on undertrained legs.  But what can I say, this verse was the same as the first.  As I saw him disappear ahead of me, that was it.  I wouldn't see him again until I crossed the finish line.  He just keeps getting it done!   Oh well. There's always next year.

(My brother and I during happier times -- before he left me in the dust) 

(A little snow on the Mountain)

About 5 miles into the race, I see Kathy Youngren just ahead of me.   I pick up my pace to catch her.  Unfortunately, it was only a Kathy look-a-like, but then I see Christy Scott and it turns out to be the real Christy Scott.  At this point, I'm thinking I am having the race of my life.  I mean Christy Scott is the real deal.  (A little Ultra Signup stalking proves my point:  Christy finished Mtn. Mist last year in 5:48:36 and Strolling Jim 40 Miler in 6:50)  I fell in behind Christy and hung with her as we approached the first aid station.

O'Shaughnessy Point to Goat Trail Aid Station (11.9 miles)

I stopped at the aid station and Christy and a few others raced through it.   I figured that would be the last I would see her, but I topped my bottle off, grabbed some pretzels and kept moving.  I passed a few people dropping down a rocky piece of trail towards Warpath and much to my surprise, I caught up with Christy again.  So, we started chatting a bit.   She and her husband Tony were the RD's for the Recover from the Holidays 50K and I was telling her how I got my 50K PR at RFH this year and I really appreciated her effort.   As we came out of the woods and onto Power Line, I pulled even with Christy and she said she was battling a tightening muscle/hamstring issue and it was slowing her down.   Well, there it was!  I knew I shouldn't be on a "Christy Scott pace," but today Christy Scott wasn't on a "Christy Scott pace."  I wound up passing Christy but figured she would be just behind me for the rest of the race, so I continued to push it.  Later, I found out Christy had to drop because her calf muscle continued to get tighter. (Good update:  Christy posted on Facebook this week that with the help of a foam roller and some rest, she has had a couple of good runs.)

I felt pretty good going up K2 and was able to power hike most of it.  As the trail leveled off at the top, I resumed a decent pace through Goat trail and the aid station.  From there, the course takes a loop over through Stone Cuts.  Somewhere along the way, I ran into David Holliday.  I thought he was still behind me as we started pounding down Sinks, but it turned out to be Jon Elmore, who had to give a shout out to me as I nearly missed a turn.  David passed me heading over to the Fearn Drive Aid Station and said something about us passing each other over the next few miles, as we often go back and forth for a while during races, but not today.  David was gone, gone, gone.

Fearn Drive (mile 17.1) to the LandTrust Aid Station (mile 21.1)

By this point, I knew I was having a good day, but a few people were passing me here and there, but not entire trains of people as I've had in the past.  Michael Scott came up behind me on  on High Trail and we encouraged each other a bit.  Michael Scott is a big part of the Chattanooga running scene and I was glad to see him.   He played a big part in my Thunder Rock 100 story, and he is just an all around good guy -- he passed me, but other than that, he's a good guy.

But things started looking up when I passed Clay Self on Bluff Line, so that kind of evened things out.   He said he was hanging back to wait on Loren Traylor who was gingerly making her way down a rocky section of trail ;)   In the end, Loren had a great day and won her age group.

As I am about a quarter of a mile away from the Land Trust Aid Station, it happens --- a root or rock or something grabs my foot and I go down hard.  I landed on my left side, but it wasn't a fall into pine needles or a soft bed of leaves.  It was a fall onto a bunch of Bluff Line rocks.  I got up slowly and kept moving, but I could feel it in my left shoulder, left knee, and a couple of fingers on my left hand were numb.  I was really ticked at myself, but was able to get back into a decent pace pretty quickly.  It was HTFU time (See Chopper HTFU on YouTube).   I made it into the LandTrust Aid Station and grabbed some pretzels, and a Mountain Dew.  It's funny, I'm not normally a Mountain Dew drinker, but I crave the stuff on long trail runs.

LandTrust Aid to Monte Sano Boulevard Aid Station (25.1 miles)

As I headed down the Old Railroad Bed Trail, all I could think of is Thank you, Thank you, Thank you,  Grandpa Hoka, or whoever invented Hoka running shoes.   Those oversized clown shoes make running over rocks as easy as running from my couch to the refrigerator during a commercial break -- Too easy.

A couple I dubbed the Tourism Board Tandem fell in behind me during this section.  That name popped into my head because they kept asking me about Waterline and where Natural Well was.  I told them Natural Well was on the other side of the next Aid Station, and Waterline was just ahead.   More to come on these two.

I realized when I got to the bottom of Waterline that I must have hit my watch with my hand or water bottle or something when I fell.   In any event, it had been paused since then.   That ticked me off, but I punched the button and got it going again.   I took my time getting up Waterline, and climbing up the side of the waterfall knowing that I had banked plenty of time and I wanted to have some left in the tank for the "other side of Monte Sano Boulevard."

Monte Sano Boulevard to Rest Shelter Aid Station (29.2 miles)

After making it up to the top of Waterline, I made it over Monte Sano Blvd. to the Aid Station.  I had a cup full of Coke -- I didn't see any Mountain Dew, and a salt covered, boiled red potato -- so good!  I made it down to the trail and started over to Natural Well through the new section of trail, which replaced the Son of a Bitch Ditch section which was completely washed out a few years ago.

The Tourism Board Tandem caught up with me and asked if we were getting close to Natural Well.  I said we were, and as we eventually approached it, I pointed to the little stone structure and said, "We're here!"   I made the turn and headed down the stone covered trail that descends into McKay Hollow, but I heard them say, "That's not a well."   Then, they ran 10 feet further and saw the fence and together said, "Ooooooohhhhh."

I was making my way down the rocky part of Arrowhead a little more slowly than I would have liked and they passed me.   I was not happy.  The trail soon transitioned from ankle twisting rocks, to sheets of mud.    It was at this point, that I ran into photographer extraordinaire, Gregg Gelmis, who was documenting my slide into McKay Hollow.   Gregg summed it up perfectly.  He said, "It's as slick as owl shit down here."  No truer words were ever spoken.

(Mud Surfing)

I finally gained my footing and made it through slush mile at a good clip.  This section of trail derives its name from the fact that it is not much more than funky mud and water that will suck a running shoe right off your foot.   Anyway, I got through it in good shape.  

A few days earlier, I had been reading old race reports from Mountain Mist that folks had been posting on FaceBook.  When I saw that Rob Youngren had posted one, I knew I had to read it.   Long story short, I was approaching the section of the race that climbs out of McKay Hollow up to the South Plateau Loop.   It is a pretty steep climb and in his report, Rob mentioned that his wife Kathy, said that you can walk up the Rest Shelter Trail until you get to a certain bench and then you've got to run the rest of the way.  Since then, that bench has been called, "Kathy's Bench."

That image was stuck in my mind and so when I came to a bench, I thought it's time to dig deep and start "running."   I started chugging up the climb to Rest Shelter as best I could.  At one point, I had to stop and so I started some seriously profane self talk to get me started again.  Now, as I continued up the trail, I came across another bench that is much closer to the top.   Now, I'm thinking, wait a minute.  Is this Kathy's Bench?!?   Did I start "running" at the wrong bench?  I still don't know the answer, I only know at that point, I was about to cough up a lung.

I must have looked like death warmed over because when I made it to the Rest Shelter Aid Station Mona Parker asked me if I was okay?   She said, "Can I get you some sugar or salt?"  She said I looked really pale.  She was nice enough to get me some Mountain Dew and some pretzels and walked me out of the Aid Station until I could start running again.

Rest Shelter to the Finish Line (31.13 miles)

The course from Rest Shelter over to the finish line is run on the South Plateau of Monte Sano -- a very flat and fast section.  I got my second wind, and started flying.....Looking back, I was actually running at a 10:03 pace, but at the time, it felt like I was flying, so stick with me here.

As I rounded a turn, I saw them!  The Tourism Board Tandem -- and they were walking!   I knew I had to pass them for a moral victory.   As I got closer, they started running, and I fell a little flat, until I noticed them take another walk break.   That's when I knew I had them.   They were going to walk/run the last two miles to the finish line and I was going to flat out FLY!!!!! (at a 10 minute pace).

I finally caught up with them and they moved over to the side of the trail and said something super snide like, "Congratulations!  You're looking strong!"  Oh, they were very nice, with those big smiles and kind words, but I knew what they were really thinking.  Okay, okay, they were nice people, but every good story needs a villain or two.   So, for our purposes, we will assume they wished me ill.

I crossed the finish line at 6:43:39, a 33 minute improvement over my previous PR at Mountain Mist.
So, I was very happy.

Parting Thoughts

I joined a larger group of runners for the Huntsville Track Club/Fleet Feet Grand Slam.   The Grand Slam consisted of the Dizzy 50K in November, the Rocket City Marathon in December, Recover from the Holidays 50K on the morning of New Year's Eve, and finally the Mountain Mist 50K.   A few of those that signed up made it through all of the runs, only to DNF (Did Not Finish) Mountain Mist.   I know that was a terrible disappointment, but know this:  Mountain Mist can humble the most experienced trail runner.   It is not your garden variety 50K.  I've DNF'd Mountain Mist twice.  It happened the first time I tried, because I didn't know what I was getting into, and it happened the third time I tried because after one finish, I thought I had it nailed down and didn't properly train.  It was so bad at that point, that my brother gave me some tough love and told me if I didn't pull it together, at the pace I was on, it would take me 20 years to get my 10 year jacket.

That was the motivation I needed.  For those in the Grand Slam group and others that didn't finish this year, you will conquer this race if you set your mind to it, and find the thing that will motivate you.  I've now finished my 6th Mountain Mist, but I will never take this course, these trails, or this race for granted.  Happy running!