On August 1st, I ran the Tushars 93k trail race in Utah, but I'm going to back up a little bit. I had been in Colorado for the month of July just running and exploring the area. Because I was camping in my car, I had the luxury of being able to drive to a bunch of different towns without having to plan on where to stay. I started the trip in Silverton, CO where I stayed for about 2 weeks and got to experience the Hardrock 100 trail run, including pacing a runner for 26 miles. It was an awesome experience, and the San Juan mountains are the most gorgeous, rugged mountains I have ever seen. Really, there is something magical about that place.
After my time in Silverton, I drove to Aspen where I was doing the Audi Power of Four 50k. The race was run on 3 different ski areas which meant all of the climbs consisted of going up ski lift lines. Straight up. The race had over 12,000ft of climbing all at an elevation between 9,000-12,500ft. As a whole, I had a disaster of a race. My Camelbak leaked immediately, and I had to ditch it and run with an 8 ounce handheld. I made the mistake of not taking the gels out of my pack though and had nothing with me for the remainder of the race. Aid stations had nothing but water and Clif gels. The course was not marked well, and I got lost for about 25 minutes. Don't get me wrong, some of the issues I brought on myself, but I felt like race organization was lacking at best. Nevertheless, I managed to finish and did enjoy running. It was a good test and helped prepare me for the Tushars race.
The day after racing in Aspen, I drove to Leadville, CO, where I spend about a week running in that area. Leadville was absolutely gorgeous and a close second to my favorite town of Silverton. I managed to climb several 14ers, including Mt. Elbert, Mt. Massive, and Mt. Belford. As with the Power of Four race, I really believe that these runs at altitude helped me acclimate and be ready to run in Utah. Grand Mesa, CO, was my next stop on the adventure. My friends Matt and Natalie were out there because Natalie was running the Grand Mesa 50 mile. I met up with them on the Friday before the race and stayed to crew for Natalie on Saturday. Natalie did awesome and was the 3rd female. It was fun to hang out and crew for her. That evening, I drove to Grand Junction, CO, before heading to Moab, Utah on Sunday.
Moab was a bit of a culture and climate shock after being in Colorado for over 3 weeks. It was pretty crowded with tourists and HOT, like Las Vegas hot. The temperature in Silverton and Leadville would be about 40 in the morning and maybe 65 in the heat of the day. Plus I was going up to 14,000ft most days on my runs, so the temperature at altitude was much cooler. Moab never got below 60 degrees, and daytime highs averaged 95. But it was a dry heat, so it didn't feel too bad compared to the humidity in Chattanooga. Thankfully I was able to camp in the LaSal mountains just outside of Moab. Because it was at 9,000 ft, the temperature was much cooler. I visited Arches and Canyonlands National Park, both of which were way more crowded than anywhere I had been in Colorado. I guess after being in the small towns for so long, I was kind of turned off by so many people. It was a unique landscape though, and I'm glad I got to see the area. The Tushars 93k race was on Saturday, August 1st near Beaver, Utah, so I headed there the Thursday before.
The race started at Eagle Point ski resort at the top of the Tushar mountains. I was lucky enough to get a cabin at the resort on Thursday night, but everything was full on Friday. Granted I had been sleeping in my car for close to a month, so an actual room wasn't that big of a deal, but it is nice to have a real bed and shower the night before a race. Thankfully, the man who runs the resort was kind enough to rent me his condo for Friday night. It was only 5 minutes from the start which worked out perfectly.
Fast forward to Friday evening. I went to packet pickup and the race briefing where race director Matt Gunn described the course as being technical, overgrown, and full of steep climbing. He said there were sections that weren't really a trail, but they were marked very well. As far as climbing goes, there was 17,000ft of elevation gain. That scared me a little bit. I had done 50k races with 12,00ft of gain, but the thought of 58 miles with 17,000ft of climbing on gnarly terrain had me at least a little anxious. It also made me excited though at the challenge of it, and Matt promised us it was a beautiful course. After hearing his briefing, I headed back to the condo to wind down and prepare for the early 5am race start.
The 4am alarm came way too early, but I was eager to get going. I tried to eat a little breakfast and then drove to the start located at the Skyline Lodge at the top of the mountain. It was still pitch black dark, so I had to have a headlamp for the beginning of the race. Unlike Colorado, temperatures here were quite a bit warmer, even at altitudes of 9,000+ft. I was thankful for this though because I don't particularly like running in the freezing cold. It was probably around 50 degrees at the start, so I just wore a t-shirt with a light wind breaker on top. They had a big campfire going that runners could huddle around until it was time to go. At about 4:58, I walked to the start line where we waited for Matt to send us off. Right at 5am, he said "Go," and about 80 brave/crazy/scared runners headed off in the dark on what promised to be an all day adventure.
We ran down a jeep road for about a 1/4 mile before turning left onto another jeep road and starting to climb. I was kind of glad that this first part was on a road rather than a trail because it was easier to navigate and run in the dark. I soon realized that my headlamp was a piece of crap, pitifully dull and providing little light to illuminate the ground in front of me. Luckily there was enough light from the other headlamps around me to provide plenty of light. We soon turned onto singletrack and continued climbing onto a ridge. At the top, you could see the sun just starting to rise over the mountains to the east. It painted the sky a beautiful pink/orange color that was spectacular. Unfortunately, this was a race, so I didn't have time to stop and take in the view. After running along the ridge for a short time, we descended on a rather technical, steep trail. Parts of it were nice and runnable but other parts were steep and loose dirt which provided no traction whatsoever. Add on the fact that it was still dark and it makes for some dicey running. Thankfully about 6:15ish, the sun was out enough to provide adequate light such that I was able to take off my headlamp. Somewhere in the first few miles, a runner named Emma, whom I had met Friday, ended up right behind me. We chatted as we made our way to the first aid station at mile 7.7.
One of the many things that stood out about this race was the awesomeness of aid stations and the volunteers. As soon as I arrived, a volunteer offered to help me refill my pack and asked what I wanted to eat. I still had plenty of fluid, so I just hurried over to the table to see what looked appealing. Keep in mind this was only mile 7.7, but the aid station had a huge assortment of food, anything from your typical snacks to homemade pumpkin pie, banana nut muffins, biscuits, and even bacon hot off the skillet! I grabbed a pb&j quarter and headed out as quickly as I could. It was a little over 8 miles to the next aid station, including a summit of Delano Peak, the highest point on the course at over 12,000ft. We followed a nice dirt road for a bit before getting back on the trail and starting to climb. It had warmed up just enough at this point that I was able to take my jacket off. Weather was just about perfect.
Soon after turning off the dirt road, the trail sort of disappeared, and I found myself in the middle of a mountain field without the slightest clue where to go. Thankfully I saw a small group of runners up ahead of me, so I ran in their direction. I couldn't see any markers but did eventually find a post that marked where the trail went. As a whole, the course was marked remarkably well, but because parts of it had to be marked several days in advance, there is always the chance that flags will get dislodged. Apparently, the pink and silver ribbons are also very attractive to deer and elk who like to eat them. When I caught up to the group ahead of me, we eventually located a marker and continued up until the trail was more defined. The climb wasn't so bad at first, but then it just got downright steep. Parts of it weren't on an actual trail, and the terrain was very rocky. Near the top, it the most difficult. Seeing the sign at the top which marked the summit was a relief as I knew that I was almost done climbing. There were several guys up here shooting video, and I just knew I was going to fall as they were recording me go by. Fortunately that didn't happen, but I did have a spectacular wipe out about 3 minutes later. The descent was equally as rock and technical as the ascent, making for some dicey running. Near the bottom, we popped out onto a dirt road and ran up to the aid station at mile 16ish. I quickly refilled my Camelbak, grabbed some food, and headed out on the next 7 mile stretch. So far, my notoriously finicky stomach was cooperating, and my legs felt good, both of which had me in good spirits.
Because I had never been to the Tushar area before and didn't take much time to study the course map, I had no idea what to expect on each section as far as climbing goes. However, the overall theme seemed to be go up for a long way then go down and repeat. We were still pretty high up, so I figured there was some more downhill running before the next climb. This part of the course was on some amazing singletrack, smooth and offering sweet views of a turquoise lake way down below. I remember thinking to myself, "Man, I hope we go down there, so I can get an up close look at the lake." Sure enough, the trail wound around down the mountain before popping out right by the lake on a gravel road. It was a spectacular view. The only downside to being down at the lake was that we now had to climb right back up. At first, the gravel road was riddled with loose, chunky rocks that made any kind of forward progress difficult, but after a while, it got much smoother. Up, up, up I went until finally turning a corner and seeing the white tent that can only mean one thing...aid station. I again grabbed a handful of whatever food looked good and headed out down the dirt road that was also an ATV route called the Paiute Trail. This section was in great shape, smooth enough to drive any type of vehicle on, and was all downhill for the 3 miles to the next aid station. The combination of nontechnical terrain and downhill grade allowed me to make really good time on this segment, and before I knew it, I was at the 26ish mile Copper Belt aid station.
From Copper Belt, runners did a 6.5 mile out and back, so I would be returning to this aid station. Because I hadn't studied the course map, I knew nothing about this section until a guy I caught up to said that we would be climbing 3.000ft up to Copper Belt peak. Oh well. So much for completing the 6.5 miles in an hour like I had hoped. We began climbing up some switchbacks that were not too steep but very overgrown. I managed to miss the turn to start another switchback and soon found myself looking around for a trail or pink flag. Nothing. I knew we had to go up, so I bushwhacked up the mountain a little bit and headed back toward where I had come from, hoping to be able to spot the trail from a higher vantage point. After several minutes of scrambling, I spotted a runner on the switchback down below and followed the trail up to my level. I had to bushwhack a little more to get there, but I was able to get back on course without too much trouble and didn't lose much time during the little off trail ordeal. Once we finished with the switchbacks, the trail got much steeper. I saw the lead guys around here, and the top 3 were all still pretty close to each other, so it was anybody's race. We got to where the trail turned into scree and loose gravel like rock. This type of terrain is very difficult because you have minimal traction on steep uphills. Each step I took, my foot would slide back down. I kept looking up thinking I would see the summit, but the first few times, it turned out to be a soul crushing false summit. Finally, I got to the top where runners had to use a hole punch to mark their bib and prove that they had reached the turnaround point. I was relieved to be on my way back to the aid station and get some downhill.
One cool aspect of the out and back is that you get to see the runners who are both in front of and behind you. I had been running by myself for a large part of the day, so it was nice to see some people. I was also interested in how close the next few women were to me. I saw Emma coming up the mountain looking strong. This was her first ultra longer than a 50k. She sure picked a tough one! Coming in to the aid station at mile 33ish, I told the volunteers that I did not care for that section very much, and they said that the lead guys echoed this statement. I was encouraged when a volunteer told me that I had one of the fastest split times for this part. It sure didn't feel like I was moving very fast. From here, we climbed back up the dirt road called the Paiute Trail that we had descended earlier. Although it was a 3 mile uphill, this road was pretty runnable and not technical at all, so I was able to kind of zone out for a bit. The one downside was that there was a ton of ATV traffic by now. Every time a group would pass, I had to breath in exhaust fumes and dust for a few minutes. The ATVs were very courteous though and did slow down to go around us. Before too long, I came up on the aid station at mile 36. My stomach was rebelling at this point, making the food unappealing. I tried to grab a few things and nibble. If there was any consolation, the aid station captain told me that the next part was 7 miles of downhill singletrack. The thought of this made me happy because I hoped to be able to make up some time. It still would have been nice to feel better going in to this section though, but it is what it is.
I wouldn't say that it was all downhill, but the next 5 or so miles of singletrack were very runnable, and we were definitely descending. The last 2ish miles before the Miner's Park aid station were on a jeep road that was all downhill until the last little bit when we climbed up to the aid station. I was finally coming out of my rough patch and was happy to see the volunteers' friendly faces. They had homegrown cantaloupe and watermelon in addition to all of the other typical food. I grabbed a huge slice of watermelon and headed out. The next aid station at mile 50 would be the last before the finish.
Seeing as how we had basically been running downhill for 7 miles, I figured we had a beast of a climb coming up. Little did I know that was a huge understatement. The ascent started immediately but wasn't very steep at first. It was, however, on a totally overgrown trail with waist high grass. The only way I could see the way was from the guys in front of me who had knocked down the grass. Despite the lack of visible trail, it was marked well, and my mood was still good, so I didn't really mind. As I got higher up, the grass thinned out to the point that there was now a discernible trail. We climbed and climbed and climbed some more, switchback after switchback. Then it happened. I rounded a corner expecting to see another switchback, but instead, the trail just went straight up. It was so steep that I said out loud to myself, "You've got to be kidding me." With 46+ miles on my legs, it was just cruel. The level of suck definitely went up a few points here. Again, it is what it is, so I put my head down and tried not to look ahead as I made my way. Every once in a while I would let myself take a peek, but I swear it seemed to just keep going up and up. It turns out that this section was a 4,000+ft climb. At one point, I looked up and saw a gate ahead where the trail intersected. I made the turn and continued climbing on trail for a bit before it turned into that dreaded gravel/scree again. Remember that good mood I had leaving Miner's Park? Well it was long gone, and the rough patch had officially returned. If possible, the "trail" got even steeper. The worst part, though, was that every time I took a step, my foot slid back down. I couldn't even stop for a second because I would just start sliding down the mountain. There were numerous times when I found myself on all fours trying to scramble up to the next pink flag. And those damn pink flags kept going up and up. Every time I thought it was the top of the peak, it turned out to be a false summit. Then, by the grace of God, and I really mean that, I could see the actual summit ahead. It was still a little ways off, but at least I could see it. Two hours after leaving the previous aid station, I crested the summit and began the descent to the final aid station. I was cooked by now, so even the downhill was an effort, not to mention the fact that the first part was on the scree which offered no traction and was quite difficult to run. A couple miles of downhill later, I saw the glorious white tent of the Alunite aid station.
As I ran in to the aid station, a kind volunteer refilled my pack with water while I grabbed a little food. I knew I should probably get something because we still had 8ish miles to the finish including a fair amount of climbing. It was the same 8 miles that we did to start the race. Just before I left, I looked back and saw what appeared to be a girl coming up the road about 100 yards away. I asked the volunteer if it was indeed a girl, and he said he thought it was. "Crap," I thought, as I pictured myself losing in the last few miles. I was ticked at myself and blew out of there as fast as I could, determined to do everything in my power not to let the person catch me. I tried to stay as positive as I could and just tell myself that all I could do was work as hard as possible to the finish. If I got caught, then so be it, but I was not going to make it easy. If nothing else, I got a boost of energy from the adrenaline and forgot about how bad my legs hurt for few miles. The next little bit had more downhill than I remembered, technical, but still very runnable. The trail then rolled along before climbing up to the ridge. I swear I was pushing so hard that I alternated feeling like I was going to puke and pass out. That half of a nutella sandwich wasn't sitting very well. Whenever the trail turned a corner, I took a quick glance back to see if I could see anyone, but thankfully it was all clear for the moment. After cresting the ridge, we had a nice downhill portion on singletrack before hitting the road that we climbed near the beginning of the race. I knew that at the bottom of this, the course would turn right uphill for the final stretch to the finish line. Before long, I reached the turn and took one last look back, and it appeared that I was still ok. Going up this last hill, I thought about the day and race as a whole. I always experience a range of emotions coming in to the finish of an ultra. Part of me is so glad to be done while the other part is sad that the experience is over. Race director Matt Gunn was there to greet me as I finished. All I could do was say "Wow."
As soon as I stopped, it was like my body knew the race was over, and my legs just shut down. I literally hobbled over to a chair by the roaring fire and collapsed. I chatted with other runners for a little while, waiting to see how far back the lady was who I thought I had seen. As it turns out, this "lady" was actually a man wearing similar colored clothing as the woman had been. He was just too far off to tell the difference. Awesome. I just spent the last 8 miles killing myself for no reason. Oh well. It got me to the finish a good bit quicker :). I hung out for a few more minutes before forcing myself to get up and head back to my cabin to shower and pack up since I had to leave that day. Walking to my car, I realized that I had developed a nasty blister on the bottom of my left heel and ball of my foot. And by nasty I mean that there was basically no skin on the bottom of my foot. Seriously. If I had crutches, I would have used them without a doubt. Getting into the shower was downright excruciating. That pain, however, was surpassed by the wonderful feeling of finishing such a rugged yet beautiful course in a part of the world I had never seen. My month long adventure out west was coming to a rapid end, and the real world would set in soon seeing as how school started back in 3 days. I am so thankful to have been able to have this experience and hope to do it all over again next year. Thanks to everyone who was involved with the race. It truly was a spectacular, although cruel at times, event. I am beyond blessed to have the opportunity to run in the mountains
Friday, August 14, 2015
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Chattanooga Mountains Stage Race
The Chattanooga stage race is a fun filled weekend of summer time running and trying not to have a heat stroke. It consists of 3 days totaling 60 miles. Friday is 18 miles on Raccoon Mountain, Saturday is 22 miles on Lookout Mountain, and Sunday is 20 miles on Signal Mountain. I had done the stage race one previous time about 5 years ago and wanted to give it another shot, so I signed up. As a bonus, this year's weather looked to be hot and humid with lows in the mid 70s and highs in the mid 90s. Just how I like it!
Day 1: Raccoon Mountain- 18 miles
The first day is my least favorite for several reasons. First, I run on Raccoon quite a bit, so the course is very familiar to me. While this is an advantage in some ways, it also means that the scenery is not new. Next, for some reason, the idea of the task ahead seems huge on that first day. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and anxiety all at the same time. Getting that first race out of the way helps to settle everything down a bit and give me some confidence going in to the next 2 days.
The start of the race is at Laurel Point with only about 100 feet of pavement before hitting single track. For this reason, I positioned myself near the front to avoid the conga line of about 200 runners behind me. We started out running a pace a bit faster than I wanted to, but it always feels like that at the beginning. Everyone's adrenaline is pumping which inevitably means that someone shoots out of the start like a rocket and lures several others into following suit. There were 2 women in this front pack, so I figured it was in my best interest to stay up there as long as I could. After a couple miles, the pack thinned out a little bit and allowed for a little easier running to the first aid station at the East Overlook around mile 4.5. At this point, I was running with a couple guys, and the conversation definitely made time pass quickly. We got to the second aid station and entrance of the small intestine in what seemed like no time at all. I had chosen to wear my Camelbak for the race to avoid having to fill up or stop at any of the aid stations, so I just ran on by and started this 3.5ish mile section. The intestines are kind of like a twilight zone because they wind around and around and around. You never really feel like you are getting anywhere and you can see other runners above and below you without knowing if they are in front of or behind you. After what seemed like way longer than 3.5 miles our little group of runners exited the intestines and began the longest climb of the day up to the visitor's center and last aid station. I pushed fairly hard on this part, mostly just wanting to get it over with and was very happy to reach the top.
The last section of the course from the visitor's center to Laurel Point is probably the most technical and features a "bonus section" that takes you up a super steep hill then right back down an equally steep descent. I focused on getting this part completed and then just hanging tough to the finish. Our little pack had split up at this point, so I was running by myself. It was also pretty hot with the sun out in full force. I was ready to be done for sure. With about a mile left, a guy who I later learned was John Bruno passed me looking strong. There wasn't much I could do about it, so I tried to just keep him in sight until the finish. When we popped out on the pavement for the last 200 meters I saw race director Randy Whorton who said that John was the leader and I was 2nd. After crossing the finish line, John and I congratulated each other and talked for a few minutes. Neither of us had any idea that he was the leader, so it was a nice surprise for him to get the win. Shortly after finishing, the sky opened up and it rained hard for at least 20 minutes. I took cover under the massage tent until the rain stopped before heading out to get lunch and rest up for day 2.
Day 2: Lookout Mountain- 22 miles
After a restless night of sleep, I woke up to the sound of rain on Saturday morning. Thankfully it was supposed to stop before race time, so I didn't worry too much about it. This stage is my favorite because Lula Lake is gorgeous, the trails are very runnable, and it is an area that I don't often run. I got there around 7:30 and chatted with Will Barnwell, Yong, John, and several others until it was time to make our way to the start line. Today's course consisted of a loop within Lula Lake followed by an out and back to Covenant College and then the first loop in reverse plus an extra section. After a lady sang a spectacular version of God Bless America, Randy said "GO" and sent runners on their way down a gravel road. Matt Sims took the lead, and we ran at a good pace for the first mile or so down the road before taking a right turn onto single track and the infamous rope climb. This section is very technical and steep, hence the need for a rope to assist you climb up to the ridge. Once at the top, the trail is again very runnable as you continue to climb along the ridge for a mile or so. Because what goes up must come down, we soon turned onto an awesome section of trail that wound its way back to the creek at the bottom. Runners followed the creek before crossing a little bridge that brings you back to the start and first aid station. That first 5 miles seemed to fly by, but I knew that this next bit up to Covenant College would be a challenge because it is almost all uphill. I had done my best to mentally prepare for this section and was glad that I knew what to expect from having run it before. That didn't make it any easier though, and it seemed to take forever to get up to the aid station. Just before reaching the aid station, you pop out on a power line and climb this horrendously steep hill. Like a hands on your knees, cussing under your breath kind of steep. It was a relief to see Ginny and the other volunteers. I grabbed a PB&J quarter and headed out, happy to have the worst of the climbing over with.
The course continues to some of the Covenant cross country trails which are very wide and smooth. We rolled along for a bit before again turning onto single track and making our way back toward Lula Lake. I got to see several runners who were making their way out which was nice because I had been running by myself for quite some time. I also saw Eunice and Curt who were sweeping the course. It was fun to really open up on the way back to Lula due to all the downhill. It felt like I was back at the start/finish in no time at all with just the last loop to go. Somewhere around here John ran up behind me and we ran together for the next few miles. He was moving really well and pushed me to keep up a solid pace, even on the climb back up to the ridge. Once at the top of the ridge, I knew that the climbing was essentially over. All that was left was the downhill to the gravel road, including climbing down the rope section we ascended at the beginning, followed by a short section of trail along the creek and the final .5 mile stretch of gravel road. I think descending the rope portion is equally as difficult as climbing, especially on tired legs, but I managed to make it without falling which would surely have resulted in knocking a tooth out on all the rocks. I hit the gravel road for maybe a quarter mile and turned left onto the trail that follows the creek. This trail is very narrow and windy, making it difficult to run quickly, but it was over pretty quick. You then cross the creek which was about knee deep in places before hitting the final stretch of gravel road. I was stoked to finish this day feeling good with just one more day left. However, that last day is a monster due to the extremely technical terrain and steep climbs. I still think that the Lookout stage is the hardest because the climbs are longer yet runnable so you end up running harder for the 22 miles whereas the 20 mile stage on Signal is slower because it is just so technical. After finishing, I soaked in the creek for a few minutes and headed out to rest up for the final stage.
Day 3: Signal Mountain- 20 miles
Another bad night of sleep and it was time to run the final day of the stage race. I'm not going to lie I was feeling it on Sunday morning. My legs were pretty heavy and quads had a bit of soreness, but I figured most everyone else was in the same boat. I got to the start at the soccer fields and took some time to doctor my feet up. After day one, my pinky toes had awful blisters on them and I lost both toenails. Lovely I know. It was so bad after that first day that I didn't know how I was going to run Saturday. Luckily, a shoe change and taping my feet fixed the problem. Before long, it was time to line up at the start. The same lady sang again and did an outstanding job. Randy had Matt lead everyone out through the parking lot to the trail head because he said the race didn't start until we hit the trail. The first 1.5ish miles to mushroom rock are on jeep road, so I ran pretty hard to get in the front of the pack before descending to the swinging bridge. Once at mushroom rock, the course drops down the gorge to the bridge, ascends the other side, and then descends once again down to Suck Creek Road. Runners then turn around and go back the way they came to mushroom rock. This section is very technical and a constant up or down. I tried to bomb the downhills as best I could and run/power hike the climbs. It was clear from the start of the first climb that my legs were feeling the previous 2 days and 40 miles. When I got to Suck Creek Road, Nathan Holland and Michael Green were there working the aid station. It's always nice to see familiar faces and seems to lift my spirits. I turned around to head back, eager to see the runners making their way down. Because there was two way traffic on this part of the course, things got a bit sketchy a few times just due to the fact that the trail is so narrow. Nevertheless, it was cool to see other runners I knew and cheer each other on. It was a relief to get back to mushroom rock and make the right turn heading towards Edward's Point knowing that the worst of the climbs were done.
This next section is not my favorite because it is very technical, tends to get overgrown, and seems to take forever. However, there was nothing I could do about any of that, so I tried to stay positive and focus on making it to Edward's Point at mile 9.5ish. My stomach had not been happy since the start of the race, and I hoped it would eventually settle down. Alas, that was not the case. At least it didn't seem to be getting worse. When I was close to the aid station at Edward's Point, I heard someone yell my name and realized it was UTC cross country coach Bill Gautier. Again my spirits were raised simply by seeing a familiar face and hearing some encouragement. Coach Gautier said that Will was in the lead looking strong, and I really got the feeling that this was his day and his race to win. I grabbed some orange slices and continued down the trail toward Signal Point. It is only about 2.5 miles from Edward's Point to Signal Point, but I swear it feels like 5. The trail turns into a rock garden that descends then climbs back up, and the constant boulder field makes it impossible to get in any kind of running rhythm. When you get close to Signal Point, there is a series of stairs to climb up to the overlook that will absolutely suck the life out of you. Or at least me. Ginny and a bunch of other volunteers were here cheering runners on. I slammed a couple little cups of Mountain Dew and made my way up the road.
We ran along the road for maybe a half mile before turning left onto a gravel path and re-entering the woods. This part was mostly downhill, so I did my best to make up some time. I was running with John and one other guy at the time, and it was nice to have some company. The gravel path soon came to an end, however, and we were once again greeted with technical, rock laden trail. I think this part is called the Julie Trail. We descended down to a creek where the trail becomes less rocky but is very narrow and windy. In years past, this section has really been a battle for me mentally because it is pretty slow going and difficult to get into a rhythm. Knowing what to expect this year, I tried to embrace it and accept it for what it was. Thankfully, that worked fairly well, and it wasn't too long before I came up on the last aid station where Kris, Cass, and several others were working. From this point, it is only 3.6 miles of dirt road, trail, and gravel to the finish. My legs were trashed but my mood was good and I finally allowed myself to think about actually finishing this thing. That first bit of dirt road has several steep hills that I had to jog/hike, but once it was over, the remaining part is very runnable. I pushed as hard as I could make myself and knew the finish was getting close when I hit the gravel path that circles the school and soccer fields. As I exited the woods to run the last 200m of road to the finish, I had a mix of emotions from elation to a bit of sadness that this awesome experience was coming to an end.
All in all, the stage race was a wonderful experience. Over the course of 3 days, I had the opportunity to meet a bunch of really neat folks taking part in this same journey of running 60 miles in 3 days on some of the prettiest trails in the area. I feel truly blessed to be able to run, especially considering that this time a year ago, I had just had hip surgery. God has given me the ability to run, and I hope that I never take that for granted. Wild Trails did a spectacular job of organizing the event, and I truly appreciate all the volunteers for their time and effort over the weekend. If you have never done a stage race, I would urge you to give it a try.
Here are some final takeaways from the race:
Day 1: Raccoon Mountain- 18 miles
The first day is my least favorite for several reasons. First, I run on Raccoon quite a bit, so the course is very familiar to me. While this is an advantage in some ways, it also means that the scenery is not new. Next, for some reason, the idea of the task ahead seems huge on that first day. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and anxiety all at the same time. Getting that first race out of the way helps to settle everything down a bit and give me some confidence going in to the next 2 days.
The start of the race is at Laurel Point with only about 100 feet of pavement before hitting single track. For this reason, I positioned myself near the front to avoid the conga line of about 200 runners behind me. We started out running a pace a bit faster than I wanted to, but it always feels like that at the beginning. Everyone's adrenaline is pumping which inevitably means that someone shoots out of the start like a rocket and lures several others into following suit. There were 2 women in this front pack, so I figured it was in my best interest to stay up there as long as I could. After a couple miles, the pack thinned out a little bit and allowed for a little easier running to the first aid station at the East Overlook around mile 4.5. At this point, I was running with a couple guys, and the conversation definitely made time pass quickly. We got to the second aid station and entrance of the small intestine in what seemed like no time at all. I had chosen to wear my Camelbak for the race to avoid having to fill up or stop at any of the aid stations, so I just ran on by and started this 3.5ish mile section. The intestines are kind of like a twilight zone because they wind around and around and around. You never really feel like you are getting anywhere and you can see other runners above and below you without knowing if they are in front of or behind you. After what seemed like way longer than 3.5 miles our little group of runners exited the intestines and began the longest climb of the day up to the visitor's center and last aid station. I pushed fairly hard on this part, mostly just wanting to get it over with and was very happy to reach the top.
The last section of the course from the visitor's center to Laurel Point is probably the most technical and features a "bonus section" that takes you up a super steep hill then right back down an equally steep descent. I focused on getting this part completed and then just hanging tough to the finish. Our little pack had split up at this point, so I was running by myself. It was also pretty hot with the sun out in full force. I was ready to be done for sure. With about a mile left, a guy who I later learned was John Bruno passed me looking strong. There wasn't much I could do about it, so I tried to just keep him in sight until the finish. When we popped out on the pavement for the last 200 meters I saw race director Randy Whorton who said that John was the leader and I was 2nd. After crossing the finish line, John and I congratulated each other and talked for a few minutes. Neither of us had any idea that he was the leader, so it was a nice surprise for him to get the win. Shortly after finishing, the sky opened up and it rained hard for at least 20 minutes. I took cover under the massage tent until the rain stopped before heading out to get lunch and rest up for day 2.
Day 2: Lookout Mountain- 22 miles
After a restless night of sleep, I woke up to the sound of rain on Saturday morning. Thankfully it was supposed to stop before race time, so I didn't worry too much about it. This stage is my favorite because Lula Lake is gorgeous, the trails are very runnable, and it is an area that I don't often run. I got there around 7:30 and chatted with Will Barnwell, Yong, John, and several others until it was time to make our way to the start line. Today's course consisted of a loop within Lula Lake followed by an out and back to Covenant College and then the first loop in reverse plus an extra section. After a lady sang a spectacular version of God Bless America, Randy said "GO" and sent runners on their way down a gravel road. Matt Sims took the lead, and we ran at a good pace for the first mile or so down the road before taking a right turn onto single track and the infamous rope climb. This section is very technical and steep, hence the need for a rope to assist you climb up to the ridge. Once at the top, the trail is again very runnable as you continue to climb along the ridge for a mile or so. Because what goes up must come down, we soon turned onto an awesome section of trail that wound its way back to the creek at the bottom. Runners followed the creek before crossing a little bridge that brings you back to the start and first aid station. That first 5 miles seemed to fly by, but I knew that this next bit up to Covenant College would be a challenge because it is almost all uphill. I had done my best to mentally prepare for this section and was glad that I knew what to expect from having run it before. That didn't make it any easier though, and it seemed to take forever to get up to the aid station. Just before reaching the aid station, you pop out on a power line and climb this horrendously steep hill. Like a hands on your knees, cussing under your breath kind of steep. It was a relief to see Ginny and the other volunteers. I grabbed a PB&J quarter and headed out, happy to have the worst of the climbing over with.
The course continues to some of the Covenant cross country trails which are very wide and smooth. We rolled along for a bit before again turning onto single track and making our way back toward Lula Lake. I got to see several runners who were making their way out which was nice because I had been running by myself for quite some time. I also saw Eunice and Curt who were sweeping the course. It was fun to really open up on the way back to Lula due to all the downhill. It felt like I was back at the start/finish in no time at all with just the last loop to go. Somewhere around here John ran up behind me and we ran together for the next few miles. He was moving really well and pushed me to keep up a solid pace, even on the climb back up to the ridge. Once at the top of the ridge, I knew that the climbing was essentially over. All that was left was the downhill to the gravel road, including climbing down the rope section we ascended at the beginning, followed by a short section of trail along the creek and the final .5 mile stretch of gravel road. I think descending the rope portion is equally as difficult as climbing, especially on tired legs, but I managed to make it without falling which would surely have resulted in knocking a tooth out on all the rocks. I hit the gravel road for maybe a quarter mile and turned left onto the trail that follows the creek. This trail is very narrow and windy, making it difficult to run quickly, but it was over pretty quick. You then cross the creek which was about knee deep in places before hitting the final stretch of gravel road. I was stoked to finish this day feeling good with just one more day left. However, that last day is a monster due to the extremely technical terrain and steep climbs. I still think that the Lookout stage is the hardest because the climbs are longer yet runnable so you end up running harder for the 22 miles whereas the 20 mile stage on Signal is slower because it is just so technical. After finishing, I soaked in the creek for a few minutes and headed out to rest up for the final stage.
Day 3: Signal Mountain- 20 miles
Another bad night of sleep and it was time to run the final day of the stage race. I'm not going to lie I was feeling it on Sunday morning. My legs were pretty heavy and quads had a bit of soreness, but I figured most everyone else was in the same boat. I got to the start at the soccer fields and took some time to doctor my feet up. After day one, my pinky toes had awful blisters on them and I lost both toenails. Lovely I know. It was so bad after that first day that I didn't know how I was going to run Saturday. Luckily, a shoe change and taping my feet fixed the problem. Before long, it was time to line up at the start. The same lady sang again and did an outstanding job. Randy had Matt lead everyone out through the parking lot to the trail head because he said the race didn't start until we hit the trail. The first 1.5ish miles to mushroom rock are on jeep road, so I ran pretty hard to get in the front of the pack before descending to the swinging bridge. Once at mushroom rock, the course drops down the gorge to the bridge, ascends the other side, and then descends once again down to Suck Creek Road. Runners then turn around and go back the way they came to mushroom rock. This section is very technical and a constant up or down. I tried to bomb the downhills as best I could and run/power hike the climbs. It was clear from the start of the first climb that my legs were feeling the previous 2 days and 40 miles. When I got to Suck Creek Road, Nathan Holland and Michael Green were there working the aid station. It's always nice to see familiar faces and seems to lift my spirits. I turned around to head back, eager to see the runners making their way down. Because there was two way traffic on this part of the course, things got a bit sketchy a few times just due to the fact that the trail is so narrow. Nevertheless, it was cool to see other runners I knew and cheer each other on. It was a relief to get back to mushroom rock and make the right turn heading towards Edward's Point knowing that the worst of the climbs were done.
This next section is not my favorite because it is very technical, tends to get overgrown, and seems to take forever. However, there was nothing I could do about any of that, so I tried to stay positive and focus on making it to Edward's Point at mile 9.5ish. My stomach had not been happy since the start of the race, and I hoped it would eventually settle down. Alas, that was not the case. At least it didn't seem to be getting worse. When I was close to the aid station at Edward's Point, I heard someone yell my name and realized it was UTC cross country coach Bill Gautier. Again my spirits were raised simply by seeing a familiar face and hearing some encouragement. Coach Gautier said that Will was in the lead looking strong, and I really got the feeling that this was his day and his race to win. I grabbed some orange slices and continued down the trail toward Signal Point. It is only about 2.5 miles from Edward's Point to Signal Point, but I swear it feels like 5. The trail turns into a rock garden that descends then climbs back up, and the constant boulder field makes it impossible to get in any kind of running rhythm. When you get close to Signal Point, there is a series of stairs to climb up to the overlook that will absolutely suck the life out of you. Or at least me. Ginny and a bunch of other volunteers were here cheering runners on. I slammed a couple little cups of Mountain Dew and made my way up the road.
We ran along the road for maybe a half mile before turning left onto a gravel path and re-entering the woods. This part was mostly downhill, so I did my best to make up some time. I was running with John and one other guy at the time, and it was nice to have some company. The gravel path soon came to an end, however, and we were once again greeted with technical, rock laden trail. I think this part is called the Julie Trail. We descended down to a creek where the trail becomes less rocky but is very narrow and windy. In years past, this section has really been a battle for me mentally because it is pretty slow going and difficult to get into a rhythm. Knowing what to expect this year, I tried to embrace it and accept it for what it was. Thankfully, that worked fairly well, and it wasn't too long before I came up on the last aid station where Kris, Cass, and several others were working. From this point, it is only 3.6 miles of dirt road, trail, and gravel to the finish. My legs were trashed but my mood was good and I finally allowed myself to think about actually finishing this thing. That first bit of dirt road has several steep hills that I had to jog/hike, but once it was over, the remaining part is very runnable. I pushed as hard as I could make myself and knew the finish was getting close when I hit the gravel path that circles the school and soccer fields. As I exited the woods to run the last 200m of road to the finish, I had a mix of emotions from elation to a bit of sadness that this awesome experience was coming to an end.
All in all, the stage race was a wonderful experience. Over the course of 3 days, I had the opportunity to meet a bunch of really neat folks taking part in this same journey of running 60 miles in 3 days on some of the prettiest trails in the area. I feel truly blessed to be able to run, especially considering that this time a year ago, I had just had hip surgery. God has given me the ability to run, and I hope that I never take that for granted. Wild Trails did a spectacular job of organizing the event, and I truly appreciate all the volunteers for their time and effort over the weekend. If you have never done a stage race, I would urge you to give it a try.
Here are some final takeaways from the race:
- It's summer time in Chattanooga...it's going to be hot and humid so get over it
- That being said, hydration is critical both during and after each run. I sipped on Powerade Zero all day after every stage. Drinking something with electrolytes is important, not just water.
- It is possible to run fairly hard on all 3 days, but be smart about it. Going out too fast on day one can wreck your weekend.
- Never underestimate the benefits of a post race nap. I took one each day, and I think it really helped.
- Eating well after each day is also crucial if you want to recover. I made it a point to eat a solid lunch and dinner each day.
- My Camelbak rubbed my collarbone and neck raw after one day. I should have used body glide. Lesson learned.
- The friendships formed in just 3 days of running together turned the stage race into something like a family. Watching other finishers and hanging out after each race was just as fun as actually racing.
Link to results:
http://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=31356
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Quest for the Crest 50k
Wow. Where to begin? On May 31st, I ran the Crest for the Quest 50k. . The race was advertised as the hardest 50k out there with close to 12,000 feet of elevation gain, not change, but gain! It was easily the hardest 50k I have ever run and the hardest race mile for mile I have ever done. Like not even remotely close to anything else. Quest was also my first ultra after having hip surgery last June. I signed up several months ago with the idea that it would give me a long term goal to train for. Although my recovery went well, I had zero runs of 4 hours or more, so I really didn't know how my body would respond to running past this mark. Thankfully, I live by the motto of "just wing it" and tried not to doubt myself. Fast forward to race weekend and I was ready to run.
Pre-race:
My dad and I drove to Burnsville on Friday afternoon because he was running the 10k vertical kilometer on Saturday. We had previewed this part of the course back in March which proved to be very helpful in that he knew what to expect for his entire race, and I at least knew what the first part of the 50k was like. Dad and I stayed at Albert's Inn, an awesome little motel only 5 minutes from the race finish and also the site of packet pick up. After getting dinner on Friday, we went back to the motel to rest up. I was thankful to have another day before the 50k to chill.
On Saturday morning, I drove my dad to the shuttle pick up for the 10k where he loaded the bus to the start. The trail head is literally in the middle of nowhere with only 2 parking spots, so you were not allowed to park at the start. The finish is very similar meaning that the shuttles also had to take runners back to where they originally parked. I just went for a shake out run and waited for dad to get back. Weather was awesome, overcast and not too hot. I hoped that it would stay like that for the 50k Sunday despite the fact that there was a 90% chance of rain. Before too long, the shuttles returned, and dad hopped out looking pleased. He said he had a good race but felt like he had run 50k. The 10k course consisted of about a 2.5 mile climb where you gain over 3,000 ft of elevation followed by about 4.5 miles of downhill. The climb is brutal in every sense of the word. Nonstop climbing from the start, the kind of climbing where you are bent over, hands on your knees sucking air. And the last mile requires you to use your hands to pull yourself up because it is so steep. Fortunately, the downhill is much more runnable and allows you to make up quite a bit of time if you don't mind risking a nasty fall while bombing the somewhat technical downhill.
After chatting for a bit with other runners, we headed to lunch and then up to Mt. Mitchell to scout out a trail that dad would need to take to meet me at a crew access point on Sunday. The rest of Sunday was spent relaxing at Albert's and listening to race director Sean Blanton's pre race briefing at packet pickup. Runner's had to board the shuttle at 4:30a.m., so dad and I ate an early dinner and tried to get some rest.
About the Quest for the Crest 50k:
This race is unlike any other in the East in that it has over 11,000 feet of elevation gain. Most of that comes from 3 separate climbs of over 3,000 feet each. The first climb is at the very beginning of the race and is by far the steepest and most technical. You ascend 3,000+ ft in about 2.5 miles and then descend in about 4.5 miles. Runners then go right back up what they just came down to make the second climb of the race. Once at the top, the course follows the Crest Trail for several very technical, rolling miles until you descend 3,000ft down Colbert's Creek Trail. The final climb is on the Buncombe Horse Trail and is the longest of the 3. Oh and Sean, the RD, decided to make things even harder by having runners do an out and back up Big Tom Gap once at the top of Buncombe. This .4 mile spur trail is basically like rock climbing it's so steep. You then have the pleasure of climbing down before continuing on the Buncombe trail for 2.7 miles before making the final descent into Black Mountain campground, the finish line of the race.
Race day:
I won't lie, the 3:40a.m. wake up call was less than desirable, but I was excited about the day ahead. After drinking a cup of coffee and getting my gear ready, dad drove me to the shuttle pick up area which was also the finish of the race. I loaded the bus and rode the 20 or so minutes to the start. The race started at 6a.m., so the sun was just coming up. It was a bit chilly, but I knew that it would feel good once we started running. Sean had us start .7 miles down the road from the trailhead to allow everyone to spread out before hitting the trail. After some final instructions, we gathered at the start and waited for Sean to say "GO". I tried to settle into a steady pace. The road was a constant uphill, so it wasn't exactly an easy warmup. I was thankful when we hit the trail, but that only meant that things got a whole lot steeper! The first mile is old road bed that is somewhat runnable depending on the grade. I alternated running and walking on this section trying to go hard but not completely red line in the early stages of the race. After that first mile, it turns into single track, crazy technical oh my gosh steep single track. At this point, I gave up on trying to run and focused on power hiking as fast as I could. I was thankful that I had done this climb before when my dad and I visited back in March because I at least knew what to expect. Before too long, I reached the top where you intersect with the Crest Trail, take a right, and begin the descent to Bowlen's Creek. It was around this point that I caught up to the 2 women who were in front of me on the climb. We ran most of the downhill together and talked a bit which made the time go much faster.
After descending the 3,000 feet to Bowlen's Creek, runners hit the first aid station. Since it was only mile 7.5 and I was running with Hillary and Rebecca, I decided not to stop at this aid station. I started the race with 40 ounces of fluid in my Camelbak and figured I could make it to the next aid station before needing to refill. Mistake number 1. Hillary, Rebecca, and I turned around the way we came and began climbing the mountain we just descended. After about 2 minutes, Hillary took off and left me in the dust. There was absolutely nothing I could do about it, so I just hoped to make up some time later in the race (that didn't happen). Rebecca and I stayed close for a while before spreading out. I still felt pretty good on this climb and did my best to run most of it. Because this part of the course was an out and back, you got to see all the runners who were either on your way down if they were ahead of you or on your way back if the were behind. It was cool to se the lead guys crushing the climb. The top is the steepest and most technical, so I found myself power hiking the last mile or so. About a mile from the top, a guy was stationed with water for people who needed to fill up, but I again passed on this opportunity. Mistake number 2. Once at the top, we continued on the Crest Trail for 3ish miles to Colbert's Ridge. It was at the top of the climb that I realized I was completely out of water. The next aid station was 8 miles away. I reflected on my decision to skip refilling despite only carrying 40 ounces of fluid. I realized that I was pretty stupid for thinking I could go 18 miles on this much to drink. Nothing I could do about it now, so I just focused on trying to make good time to the next aid station. That 3 miles of Crest Trail was less than easy. The grass was overgrown on both sides of the trail which was more like a 6 inch wide ditch full of big rocks hidden by the grass. Needless to say, you couldn't exactly fly on this part. When it wasn't a grassy ditch, the trail was super rocky like the first climb and had a lot of up and down. This section was also very exposed, and the sun was out which made it pretty hot. I could tell that I was dehydrated as my mouth was completely dry and my legs felt like they were on the verge of cramping. All I could think about was getting got the bottom of Colbert's Creek where there was an aid station. After what seemed like forever, I reached the intersection with Colbert's Ridge which is where runners descend for the second time. Thankfully, there was an EMT stationed there who was kind enough to give me several sips of his water. It tasted like heaven. I turned down the trail with my spirits lifted now that my mouth wasn't so dry that it stuck together. I had run this section when dad and I visited so I again knew what to expect. The first mile or so is like a rock garden, super technical and slick. I went as fast as I could without being totally reckless and made it through to the less rocky part of the trail. From here, you can run fairly consistently at a good clip to the bottom. It seemed longer than when I had done it before, but then again, I was feeling the miles and was very thirsty. I could tell that my quads were already semi-trashed from the 6,000 feet of downhill running we had done thus far.
Coming in to that aid station was a relief. My dad was there, and I immediately told him that I needed to fill up with Gatorade which is what I had been drinking. He went to work refilling my Camelbak while I looked at the food at the aid station table. My stomach had been jacked since the start, so I had not eaten anything in the first 18 miles. Mistake number 3 (they are adding up quickly). I grabbed a PB&J quarter and a cookie and took off down the road. Runners had to run on the pavement for maybe 3/4 of a mile to the Bumcombe trailhead. Shortly after heading down the road, I realized how shot my legs already were. I was definitely at a low point, and it was all I could do to maintain a slow jog. It was somewhat of a relief to hit the trail again, but that relief soon faded when the trail became a rocky creek bed that was very difficult to run on. The first 2 or so miles were a gentle uphill grade, but the technicality made it tough to keep a good pace. Plus I was feeling awful, so this section was more of a jog/hike. Unfortunately, it would only get worse. After the first few miles, the Buncombe trail got steeper and steeper. And steeper. Sean had referred to this part as "switchback hell," which was definitely appropriate. I swear it seemed like they went on forever. I was cussing the Buncombe trail at this point and praying to get to the top. Finally the trail opened up to a grassy area similar to the Crest Trail. It flattened out and was much more runnable. This was a relief, but I knew that I still had the climb up Big Tom Gap. I was still smack dab in the middle of my bonk which lasted the better part of 2 hours. A short time after running along the flat portion of Buncombe, I reached a group of several EMTs who were set up at the intersection of the Big Tom Gap trail. They were extremely kind and offered to get me something to eat and/or drink. However, all I could think about was getting that climb out of the way, so I declined and made the right hand turn to go up. This out and back section was .4 miles one way, and runners were supposed to stamp their bib at the turn around. The way out is straight up, like rock climbing straight up. It was here where I hit the low point of the race. I honestly felt like I was going to pass out and felt very wobbly. My stomach was still jacked, but I knew I needed to take in some sugar, so I forced a GU in, and it actually tasted pretty good. The salted caramel flavor is my new favorite because it tastes like dessert, has elevated electrolytes, and 40mg of caffeine. When I reached top, there was a photographer there who said I looked pretty rough to which I replied "I feel pretty rough". I stamped my bib and turned around to head back down. Several minutes after beginning the descent, I saw Rebecca on her way up. She couldn't have been more than 5 minutes behind me at this point. Seeing her was probably a good thing because it lit a fire in me to get my butt moving. Also, the GU was kicking in, and I was finally coming out of my bonk.
Running along a flat stretch of the Buncombe Trail just before the final descent
When I got back down to the intersection with the Buncombe trail, the EMTs again offered to get me some food or water which I again declined because I didn't want to take the time. Mistake number 4. I knew I had 2.3 miles left until I made the turn down the final descent into Black Mountain campground and the finish line. All in all it was about 6.5-7 more miles. However, about 1/2 mile after heading down the trail, I once again ran out of Gatorade. Fortunately, I was feeling a million times better, and the trail was very runnable, so I maintained a solid pace on this part. Before long, I saw my dad who had hiked in from Mt. Mitchell. He gave me all the Gatorade he had left which was about 4 ounces and told me that I was close to the trail that runners took to descend off the mountain. All I had to do was make it 4.5 miles down a rocky descent, and I would be home free. The top portion of the trail was the most technical, but not too bad, and I was smelling the barn big time, so I took some chances and went as fast as I could. As you got further down the trail, it was less technical but still quite rocky in places. My quads were absolutely shot at this point, making my run more like a free fall because I was limited in my ability to slow myself down very quickly. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the bottom of the mountain, but I eventually popped out an a gravel path in the campground. I ran along this for maybe 1/2 mile before seeing a field and the finish line. Words cannot describe how happy I was just to be done running. Sean was there to shake my hand and his incredibly sweet mother saw to it that I got something to drink seeing as how I had been out of Gatorade for the last 5 miles. My legs were already painfully sore, but it was that satisfying sore that comes from knowing you worked hard. My dad had not made it back to the finish yet from Mt. Mitchell, so I plopped my butt down in the field to watch other runners finish.
Post race thoughts:
1. This was the hardest race I have ever done. Period. I have run other 50k races more than 3 hours faster and a 50 mile race in only 10 more minutes than it took to run Quest for the Crest.
2. The climbing was insane, but the downhill is what trashed my quads. I should have practiced running downhill for an extended time.
3. The technicality of the course was also insane. Even on the flatter sections, which were few and far between, it was very technical.
4. The difficulty of the Quest was matched by its beauty. Views on top of the mountain were spectacular. It made it all worthwhile.
5. I absolutely, without a doubt, dropped the ball when it comes to my hydration and nutrition for this race. Simply put, I was careless to the point of stupid regarding hydration. Yes the aid stations were spread out, but there was no excuse for me to run completely out of fluid TWICE for extended periods of time. This was due to my failure to take the time to fill up when I had the opportunity. It definitely came back to haunt me as I believe it contributed to the 2+hour long bonk and thus slowed me down considerably. In a race where I should have consumed at least 4 liters of fluid, I had 2.5. My nutrition was practically nonexistent. Some of this was due to an unhappy stomach the whole time, but I should have just forced myself to try to eat more than I did. For the duration, I consumed one GU, a quarter of a PB&J, and several orange slices. Yes, I know thats bad.
6. The Quest for the Crest was incredibly well put on from start to finish. The logistics of this race were super difficult given the fact that it was so remote and required shuttles to the start. Aid station workers had to hike supplies in over 4 miles and up a mountain on several occasions. Water had to be purified from a mountain spring. You get the idea. Nevertheless, Sean "Run Bum" Blanton did an outstanding job as RD. I have never run a race with better course markings. The finish line was great with plenty of food, and you even had access to showers in the campground.
7. It took me 3 days to be able to walk normally. My quads and calves were very sore, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I look forward to next year and trying to improve upon some of the mistakes I made this year.
8. Thanks to Sean, his parents, all the volunteers, the EMTs, and my dad for being there to crew. Most importantly, I thank God for giving me the opportunity to spend a day in woods exploring the beautiful mountains he created.
Results: http://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=30866
http://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=30866
Pre-race:
My dad and I drove to Burnsville on Friday afternoon because he was running the 10k vertical kilometer on Saturday. We had previewed this part of the course back in March which proved to be very helpful in that he knew what to expect for his entire race, and I at least knew what the first part of the 50k was like. Dad and I stayed at Albert's Inn, an awesome little motel only 5 minutes from the race finish and also the site of packet pick up. After getting dinner on Friday, we went back to the motel to rest up. I was thankful to have another day before the 50k to chill.
On Saturday morning, I drove my dad to the shuttle pick up for the 10k where he loaded the bus to the start. The trail head is literally in the middle of nowhere with only 2 parking spots, so you were not allowed to park at the start. The finish is very similar meaning that the shuttles also had to take runners back to where they originally parked. I just went for a shake out run and waited for dad to get back. Weather was awesome, overcast and not too hot. I hoped that it would stay like that for the 50k Sunday despite the fact that there was a 90% chance of rain. Before too long, the shuttles returned, and dad hopped out looking pleased. He said he had a good race but felt like he had run 50k. The 10k course consisted of about a 2.5 mile climb where you gain over 3,000 ft of elevation followed by about 4.5 miles of downhill. The climb is brutal in every sense of the word. Nonstop climbing from the start, the kind of climbing where you are bent over, hands on your knees sucking air. And the last mile requires you to use your hands to pull yourself up because it is so steep. Fortunately, the downhill is much more runnable and allows you to make up quite a bit of time if you don't mind risking a nasty fall while bombing the somewhat technical downhill.
After chatting for a bit with other runners, we headed to lunch and then up to Mt. Mitchell to scout out a trail that dad would need to take to meet me at a crew access point on Sunday. The rest of Sunday was spent relaxing at Albert's and listening to race director Sean Blanton's pre race briefing at packet pickup. Runner's had to board the shuttle at 4:30a.m., so dad and I ate an early dinner and tried to get some rest.
About the Quest for the Crest 50k:
This race is unlike any other in the East in that it has over 11,000 feet of elevation gain. Most of that comes from 3 separate climbs of over 3,000 feet each. The first climb is at the very beginning of the race and is by far the steepest and most technical. You ascend 3,000+ ft in about 2.5 miles and then descend in about 4.5 miles. Runners then go right back up what they just came down to make the second climb of the race. Once at the top, the course follows the Crest Trail for several very technical, rolling miles until you descend 3,000ft down Colbert's Creek Trail. The final climb is on the Buncombe Horse Trail and is the longest of the 3. Oh and Sean, the RD, decided to make things even harder by having runners do an out and back up Big Tom Gap once at the top of Buncombe. This .4 mile spur trail is basically like rock climbing it's so steep. You then have the pleasure of climbing down before continuing on the Buncombe trail for 2.7 miles before making the final descent into Black Mountain campground, the finish line of the race.
Race day:
I won't lie, the 3:40a.m. wake up call was less than desirable, but I was excited about the day ahead. After drinking a cup of coffee and getting my gear ready, dad drove me to the shuttle pick up area which was also the finish of the race. I loaded the bus and rode the 20 or so minutes to the start. The race started at 6a.m., so the sun was just coming up. It was a bit chilly, but I knew that it would feel good once we started running. Sean had us start .7 miles down the road from the trailhead to allow everyone to spread out before hitting the trail. After some final instructions, we gathered at the start and waited for Sean to say "GO". I tried to settle into a steady pace. The road was a constant uphill, so it wasn't exactly an easy warmup. I was thankful when we hit the trail, but that only meant that things got a whole lot steeper! The first mile is old road bed that is somewhat runnable depending on the grade. I alternated running and walking on this section trying to go hard but not completely red line in the early stages of the race. After that first mile, it turns into single track, crazy technical oh my gosh steep single track. At this point, I gave up on trying to run and focused on power hiking as fast as I could. I was thankful that I had done this climb before when my dad and I visited back in March because I at least knew what to expect. Before too long, I reached the top where you intersect with the Crest Trail, take a right, and begin the descent to Bowlen's Creek. It was around this point that I caught up to the 2 women who were in front of me on the climb. We ran most of the downhill together and talked a bit which made the time go much faster.
This gives you an idea of the steepness of the climb
Views at the top of the climb were spectacular
Coming in to that aid station was a relief. My dad was there, and I immediately told him that I needed to fill up with Gatorade which is what I had been drinking. He went to work refilling my Camelbak while I looked at the food at the aid station table. My stomach had been jacked since the start, so I had not eaten anything in the first 18 miles. Mistake number 3 (they are adding up quickly). I grabbed a PB&J quarter and a cookie and took off down the road. Runners had to run on the pavement for maybe 3/4 of a mile to the Bumcombe trailhead. Shortly after heading down the road, I realized how shot my legs already were. I was definitely at a low point, and it was all I could do to maintain a slow jog. It was somewhat of a relief to hit the trail again, but that relief soon faded when the trail became a rocky creek bed that was very difficult to run on. The first 2 or so miles were a gentle uphill grade, but the technicality made it tough to keep a good pace. Plus I was feeling awful, so this section was more of a jog/hike. Unfortunately, it would only get worse. After the first few miles, the Buncombe trail got steeper and steeper. And steeper. Sean had referred to this part as "switchback hell," which was definitely appropriate. I swear it seemed like they went on forever. I was cussing the Buncombe trail at this point and praying to get to the top. Finally the trail opened up to a grassy area similar to the Crest Trail. It flattened out and was much more runnable. This was a relief, but I knew that I still had the climb up Big Tom Gap. I was still smack dab in the middle of my bonk which lasted the better part of 2 hours. A short time after running along the flat portion of Buncombe, I reached a group of several EMTs who were set up at the intersection of the Big Tom Gap trail. They were extremely kind and offered to get me something to eat and/or drink. However, all I could think about was getting that climb out of the way, so I declined and made the right hand turn to go up. This out and back section was .4 miles one way, and runners were supposed to stamp their bib at the turn around. The way out is straight up, like rock climbing straight up. It was here where I hit the low point of the race. I honestly felt like I was going to pass out and felt very wobbly. My stomach was still jacked, but I knew I needed to take in some sugar, so I forced a GU in, and it actually tasted pretty good. The salted caramel flavor is my new favorite because it tastes like dessert, has elevated electrolytes, and 40mg of caffeine. When I reached top, there was a photographer there who said I looked pretty rough to which I replied "I feel pretty rough". I stamped my bib and turned around to head back down. Several minutes after beginning the descent, I saw Rebecca on her way up. She couldn't have been more than 5 minutes behind me at this point. Seeing her was probably a good thing because it lit a fire in me to get my butt moving. Also, the GU was kicking in, and I was finally coming out of my bonk.
When I got back down to the intersection with the Buncombe trail, the EMTs again offered to get me some food or water which I again declined because I didn't want to take the time. Mistake number 4. I knew I had 2.3 miles left until I made the turn down the final descent into Black Mountain campground and the finish line. All in all it was about 6.5-7 more miles. However, about 1/2 mile after heading down the trail, I once again ran out of Gatorade. Fortunately, I was feeling a million times better, and the trail was very runnable, so I maintained a solid pace on this part. Before long, I saw my dad who had hiked in from Mt. Mitchell. He gave me all the Gatorade he had left which was about 4 ounces and told me that I was close to the trail that runners took to descend off the mountain. All I had to do was make it 4.5 miles down a rocky descent, and I would be home free. The top portion of the trail was the most technical, but not too bad, and I was smelling the barn big time, so I took some chances and went as fast as I could. As you got further down the trail, it was less technical but still quite rocky in places. My quads were absolutely shot at this point, making my run more like a free fall because I was limited in my ability to slow myself down very quickly. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the bottom of the mountain, but I eventually popped out an a gravel path in the campground. I ran along this for maybe 1/2 mile before seeing a field and the finish line. Words cannot describe how happy I was just to be done running. Sean was there to shake my hand and his incredibly sweet mother saw to it that I got something to drink seeing as how I had been out of Gatorade for the last 5 miles. My legs were already painfully sore, but it was that satisfying sore that comes from knowing you worked hard. My dad had not made it back to the finish yet from Mt. Mitchell, so I plopped my butt down in the field to watch other runners finish.
Post race thoughts:
1. This was the hardest race I have ever done. Period. I have run other 50k races more than 3 hours faster and a 50 mile race in only 10 more minutes than it took to run Quest for the Crest.
2. The climbing was insane, but the downhill is what trashed my quads. I should have practiced running downhill for an extended time.
3. The technicality of the course was also insane. Even on the flatter sections, which were few and far between, it was very technical.
4. The difficulty of the Quest was matched by its beauty. Views on top of the mountain were spectacular. It made it all worthwhile.
5. I absolutely, without a doubt, dropped the ball when it comes to my hydration and nutrition for this race. Simply put, I was careless to the point of stupid regarding hydration. Yes the aid stations were spread out, but there was no excuse for me to run completely out of fluid TWICE for extended periods of time. This was due to my failure to take the time to fill up when I had the opportunity. It definitely came back to haunt me as I believe it contributed to the 2+hour long bonk and thus slowed me down considerably. In a race where I should have consumed at least 4 liters of fluid, I had 2.5. My nutrition was practically nonexistent. Some of this was due to an unhappy stomach the whole time, but I should have just forced myself to try to eat more than I did. For the duration, I consumed one GU, a quarter of a PB&J, and several orange slices. Yes, I know thats bad.
6. The Quest for the Crest was incredibly well put on from start to finish. The logistics of this race were super difficult given the fact that it was so remote and required shuttles to the start. Aid station workers had to hike supplies in over 4 miles and up a mountain on several occasions. Water had to be purified from a mountain spring. You get the idea. Nevertheless, Sean "Run Bum" Blanton did an outstanding job as RD. I have never run a race with better course markings. The finish line was great with plenty of food, and you even had access to showers in the campground.
7. It took me 3 days to be able to walk normally. My quads and calves were very sore, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I look forward to next year and trying to improve upon some of the mistakes I made this year.
8. Thanks to Sean, his parents, all the volunteers, the EMTs, and my dad for being there to crew. Most importantly, I thank God for giving me the opportunity to spend a day in woods exploring the beautiful mountains he created.
Results: http://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=30866
http://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=30866
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