It'd been raining for nearly 48 hours straight leading up to the start of the race. For now, it was a light mist, but there was no telling what would take place over the next SEVERAL hours of running. The only thing that was certain was that I was going to enjoy myself today. This was my first 50k ever. The course was said to be brutally difficult, which was probably what also peaked my interest to begin with. I had hoped for some gorgeous view of the gorge from the summit, but given the weather, I was satisfied with taking on the additional challenges that a soaking wet trail race would provide.
Maura and I mingled with some friends at the start line. It was a small race, maybe 100ppl or so running the 50K. It was still pretty dark out, but was slowly becoming light enough to see. A fairly informal start. "Ready, set, go" the race director announced over a small portable speaker. And just like that a small herd of adrenaline junkies set out into the woods clad in an assortment of hydration packs and colorful active wear.
I had no strategy for the day. I'd never run this distance before, and then factor in the terrain, creek crossings, elevation gain, and weather...... I figured it was best to run on instinct. I started out following a group of guys that were at a pace a bit slower than I would have preferred, which felt like a good place to be early on. Within a few miles though, I got too antsy and pulled away.
Fellow Maggot, Anne was just ahead and was keeping a good pace so I joined her. Considering she was first female last year, I was a little concerned that I was going too fast but having someone to run and chat with that also knew the course was helpful. The terrain was pretty treacherous. Single track with lots of mud, and several creek crossings that were up to thigh high in some areas. One creek crossing actually needed a rope across it to aid in stability since the steady rain had given the water a nice boost. It was at this time that Anne told me that we were 2nd male/female. I really didn't believe her, but the volunteers confirmed it. I wasn't sure what to do with this information. Not really sure I wanted to hear it. I slowly transitioned from "hey, I just want to finish, age group award would be cool if it happens" to "2nd male would be one hell of a story, and I don't want to go backwards now". As my new mindset started creeping in, we started a series of uphill switch backs and I turned things up a little, deciding to move ahead of Anne and go it alone.
This part of the trail was really gorgeous. Tough, but not too tough of a climb, lots of rhododendron overhanging, and a the sounds of various waterfalls and rushing water below me. Some newly fallen bright red leaves outlined the trail. It was at times like these I thought about the early Native Americans and settlers that took to these trails hundreds of years before me. For a brief moment I felt connected to them, sharing in the same beauty.
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"Surely this first place guy is a stud trail runner that does this all the time, so I'm 100% fine with 2nd"
"You're well ahead of the 3rd place guy now, so just relax and don't risk anything, be content"
(Internal monologue)
This was all well and good until I hit the fire roads and saw a black shirt just ahead rounding a corner. Sure enough, around mile 12 I had caught the first place guy. His name was John, from Raleigh, NC. First 50K, first time on this course, and he volunteered the fact that he had a tight achilles, and a sore knee. That's all it took for me to throw my previous expectations and contentment of 2nd place out the window. Now I wanted it all.....
I slowly pulled away and made the turn onto the 2.8mi of trail that led to the summit. This was not the winding switch backs I had been running previously......this was a trail that went up, and only up. Straight up. It seemed to go on forever. At this point, "running" doesn't do you any good. I power hiked the best I could, hands on my knees, cursing between breaths. "Holy shit, are you kidding me?" is what I recall being the thought I had most. Eventually I got to another fire road, crossed it, and got onto a very rocky single track that was the last stretch to the summit. This section was so rocky that any running I could do was done with focused, delicate, calculated steps. The rocks and roots were slick with wet fallen leaves on them. At one point I wasn't even sure if I was still on the trail as I had to scale up a bunch of rocks using my hands to pull myself up. The trail was marked with blue/white streamers.....which always seemed to show up just before I was sure that I was on the wrong trail, set to die alone in the wilderness. "Streamer, where is that damn streamer.....YES! Ok, I'm going to live"
The course was almost over marked at the top. At the split to the summit, there were two signs, one was directing me to the summit, one directing me to the aid station. After 19 miles I wasn't thinking clearly, but made the correct turn.....and then had a panic attack that I had actually misread the sign, and turned around!!! Just before I got back to the intersection I ran into John again and he confirmed I had been going the right way!! AH!! I had just given up all of my lead!
The summit was surreal. The couple volunteers stood there in the pouring rain, and I looked around briefly only to realize that we were totally engulfed in a dense cloud. You could see the rocks we were standing on, and nothing else. It was a really odd, but still beautiful, experience. So many have been on this summit on a nice day, how many can say they saw it like this?
With John close on my heels, we started down the mountain. The downhill was just as tough as the uphill climbing. We started passing the other runners as we went down, giving each other words of encouragement, and sharing a sympathetic smile. I saw my wife with a group of people about half way up their climb. It was comforting to me to see her in good spirits, since just two days prior she was taking two IV's for a really bad stomach bug that had me worried she'd have a tough day. Seeing her smile gave me a nice boost that carried me back down to the trail head.
John stopped for longer than I did at the aid station and said "go get it, man" which I secretly hoped meant he was giving up on the chase, but there was no way I was going to let myself get too comfortable. We still had 10 miles left, and truth be told, I was enjoying being pushed and loved the close competition. (I wasn't catching the 1st OA runner, Lorraine....she was in total beast mode, so 1st male was good enough for me....for real this time)
The trail down was very runnable except for the fact I had 20 miles on my legs already. Some sections were so steep I had to walk slowly for fear of the mud giving way and me sliding off the side of the mountain, but a lot of it was wider, rolling, and debris free. Just some nice, soft, pine needles on the ground and some shallow puddles. It was nice to not have to concentrate on every step placement for a change. I passed a lot of 50 milers on this section. I did NOT envy them one bit. Most of them walking, I think they were only 20 miles in!! That makes for a long day! Once I connected back onto some fire roads again I realized my legs were fading and fading fast. I was starting to walk a little on every uphill section, using it as an opportunity to try and stretch out my hardening calf muscles. Knowing that I was running faster than John on these roads before, I felt like as long as I was running, I was pulling away, so a little walking here and there, especially if it meant warding off cramps, was allowable.
"Just a Wedge Run to go"
"Just a 10K left, you got this"
The last few miles seemed to drag on forever........
Coming into the last aid station. I'd decided that "ultra-trail-Andy" runs with a backwards hat...
The final aid station was 4.8 miles from the finish. I took a handful of gummy bears and crammed them down my cram hole. I was looking for anything I could do to keep my energy up. I was now back on the grassy two-track that we started on, and had one final creek crossing. The cold water was nice on my calves, but as I attempted to get up and over the downed tree at the other side, a sharp, fiery cramp shot down my left inner-hammy and locked me up. I screamed in pain as I got over the tree and tried to straighten my leg. "No F-ing way" I thought to myself. "You're 27 miles in, 4 from the finish and in first place, you're not going to let this happen to you right now".
I did the only thing I thought might help; and through some raw salt under my tongue with a splash of water, and started to walk myself into a run and willed things away. I wasn't going to acknowledge the cramp, I wasn't going to allow it to set in. I wasn't going to let this steal a win from me that I had worked so hard for to this point.
I ran, then I walked, then I ran and walked the last few miles until I reached the final stretch. Once back into the big field, I could look back far enough to know that John was no where to be seen, however, I did see a yellow shirt come out of the woods......it was Anne!! She had passed John and was just a min or so behind me. From here I could see the finish line on the other side of the river, but still had to run "past" it before hitting the bridge and making the turn back in. I was tempted to just cross the river and B-line it in, what was one more water crossing?
Fists pumped, and hydration pack now unbuckled, I found enough leg strength left to cross the barren finish line relatively upright. Immediately thereafter I collapsed to the ground and rolled onto my back, arms and legs outstretched like I was going to make a mud angel. I laid there and let the rain wash away the pain of 31 miles. I smiled and chuckled to myself "holy shit that was hard". I slowly sat upright and cheered on Anne as she came in. She too collapsed to the ground next to me and there we sat, sharing tales of the day as the race director presented us with our trophies and finishers sweatshirts. "Hey, nice job today" I told her, and we fist-bumped before finally attempting to stand up so we could get a picture taken.
Dry clothes, beers and a camping chair under the pavilion. That's how I spent the next couple hours, cheering on the other finishing runners. Maura came in a couple hours later, and did a nice "airplane" impression? as she ran through the finish area. Clearly she was delirious :) She ended up 2nd place in her age group though, so we both had some sweet hardware to go home with.
It was a hell of a day for us, and all the other runners. I felt like the weather really upped the camaraderie amongst everyone. We all had some great stories to share, and some battle scars to show off. Very grateful for this experience, and for post race beers, and for ibuprofen.
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