CHRIS & JOE & LORRIE & SHELEANA'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE

OK, I haven’t learned yet. At the end of my previous 100 mile races (one DNF, one finish) for the past two years I have said “enough”. But I guess I have never really meant it – obviously. I can’t help myself. I find myself drawn to the challenge – and all that comes with it. But mostly I think it is the social aspect; spending time with friends and having a good time. So with that it was back for the tie-breaker run at the Vermont 100. Who would win – me or the mountains?

I have had many good trips with Lorrie and Joe and I knew that we would have a great time, no matter what the outcome on race day. But it was really exciting to have Lorrie’s daughter, Sheleana, joining us for her initiation into our kooky club. I have to wonder what her thoughts were when she attended the pre-race briefing on Friday night with us and got to witness the eccentricities of the runners. Outhouses? We don’t need them. Beer? Of course it’s normal to walk around a wide-open field drinking beer in the early afternoon. Dinner? Who knew that there were such precise decisions to be made?


After a dinner of pizza (OK, maybe five slices was a bit much), we all headed back to the hotel room to try to get some rest – the night would be way too short. Despite having a rough night of very little sleep and ridiculous GI upset, I awoke on Saturday morning at around 1:35am without the alarm. My gut was still in a bit of turmoil and I worried about what I could possibly eat that would not send me running to the bathroom. So I got up and dressed and made some coffee, hoping that the activity would soon let me know how my stomach was doing. Things seemed to settle and I was able to tolerate a couple of bites of pop tart and some liquid calories in the form of Hammer Perpetuem. Soon Joe, Lorrie, and I headed out to race headquarters and left Sheleana sleeping, to be picked-up and begin her crewing duties at a more civilized hour.

We arrived at the race site – it was clear and cool. It had been raining at our hotel and I was glad to find that the rain had stopped and the skies were clear. Some good chit-chat with friends – it’s amazing how you can find so many people that you know among such a large crowd, especially when you are barely awake – a couple of runs to the porta-potties, and it was time to start. A momentary downpour of rain subsided to a mere light mist and the mass of bodies and excited voices disappeared into the sea of darkness and bobbling lights.

Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Though the streams are swollen
Keep them dogies rollin'
Rawhide!
Rain and wind and weather
Hell-bent for leather
Wishin' my gal was by my side.
All the things I'm missin',
Good vittles, love, and kissin',
Are waiting at the end of my ride
- Frankie Laine

I ran with Charlie Leonard and John from State College, PA, who had recently run at the Finger Lakes Fifties, feeling relaxed and my stomach more at ease. Maybe things would be OK. Somewhere around nine miles into the race the horses started coming through. OK, I thought, this was about where they first caught me last year. Hopefully this was a good omen. And I jogged on. Unfortunately, that easy-stomach feeling didn’t last long and I was forced to make a pit stop among the trees. And then began the never-ending downhill. Going uphill seemed OK but the jarring of downhill running was just awful on my gut. I was so grateful when I got to some flat road, crossing through Taftsville covered bridge and seeing my friends Karen and Will. It was good to see familiar faces again and lamenting my stomach issues aloud seemed to be quite cathartic (pardon the pun). However, I still was not able to tolerate much in the line of caloric intake and I knew that even my dogged pace needed some sort of fuel to keep it happening. So I tried some melon and PB&J at the next station, listened to the grumbles of my gut attempting to revolt, ignored it, and walked on. At this point it seemed that sucking on gummy bears and sipping water would have to do; occasionally I would run along pretty strong – thinking that this had happened before and went away, so why would I think that it wouldn’t this time?

We the people, shedding skin
Age of reason lies within
Explanation, the club of Rome
Meditation and staying home
Moving forward, the chosen few
Teach your children what is new
Bang the table, beat the drum
New messiah, overcome
- Graham Russell

Pretty House – mile 21.1 – this was the first chance I would get to see my crew and I was so excited and hoped that just seeing them and getting their support would make me feel stronger. I could hear Joe’s cowbell LONG before I made the final turn down the road to the station. It just brought the hugest smile to my face and I started running a little faster and feeling better. Joe, Sheleana, and Lorrie helped me change my shirt and shoes and refilled my gummy bear supply and my bottles. I downed a bottle of gingerale and at that moment my stomach was feeling pretty not bad. I wasn’t too far off from the time that I had arrived at this station last year, so things were looking up. And then as I was making a quick stop in the porta-pottie I heard Joe yell out as he drove by “Way to go, Honey! Let it out, let it out, like a good girl scout!” I’m sure everyone thought that I must have the weirdest crew! But what awesome cheerleaders they were!

I still was not able to take much in the way of solids, but I made an attempt with a few potato chips and some melon, hoping that this would settle OK. It seemed to and I still felt pretty energetic, now renewed with new socks, shoes, a dry shirt, and the good spirits of my crew.

Hot sun as warm as the kissing of the wind
Footsteps in perfect time
Heartbeat as loud as the whisper in the wood
Hold me this dance is mine
The dance is mine
- Graham Russell

Stage Road – mile 30.1 – after running some beautiful open pastures, mountains, and trails, it was downhill on the road to the station. There was Will again, about ¼ mile before the station, making me feel right at home. Again, I hit this station at about the same time as last year and was now feeling great and looking forward to eating some PB&J. Joe rang me into the station with the cowbell and his own musical symphony, Lorrie filled my bottles and Sheleana got me food and worked as photographer. Karen was also there giving me words of wisdom. It was great to be surrounded by friends and even better that it seemed my stomach had finally calmed-down. The sun was out and it was getting hot, something that I had not been accustomed to over the last month. But I knew this next section was mostly uphill and that I would be walking quite a bit, so I felt that the heat shouldn’t affect me much. I was feeling strong again and felt physically and mentally ready to take-on this race.

A thousand years, a thousand more
A thousand times a million doors to eternity
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning stairway climbs
To a tower of souls
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars
The towers rise to numberless floors in space
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face
- Sting

Camp 10 Bear – mile 47.2 – the hills were just unrelenting leading up to this point. I remembered that there were hills here and that they were long climbs, but somehow today they seemed longer. And yet, through my struggling but having the good fortune of long legs, I was still able to pass a few people. By now the heat just seemed ridiculous and the nausea was starting to creep back, although sucking on gummy bears seemed to help limit the damage. The heat just seemed to be sucking the life out of me and when I finally reached the aid station and saw my crew, I only felt relief. It was so good to see them; I needed their mental boosts.

It was time to re-sole my feet with new moleskin (this early prevention seemed to be working as my feet, despite how they looked, actually felt good and there were very few hot spots). Time for a new pair of sneakers – switched from my Brooks Cascadias to my favorite Brooks Adrenaline ASRs, cushy but with good support. I stepped-up for my first weigh-in and surprisingly weighed exactly the same as my pre-race weight – 162 pounds. I can’t even lose weight after running over 47 miles! Now it was time to eat a bit before moving on. Problem was that solid foods still did not appeal to me. So I had some more gingerale, some melon, and walked-off with some chips, hoping that this would be enough to sustain me. As I was leaving the station one of the front-runners was coming back through (his 70-mile point). He looked great. I knew how far I still had to go to get where he was – and I was certain that I wouldn’t look nearly as good!

When we believe in our reality
In the words that we say
We’re all searching for sanity
Till it drives us away
To that place in the wilderness
In the deep of your mind
You remember that happiness
Wasn’t easy to find
- Graham Russell

Pinky’s – mile 51 – the heat was still out in full-force and now not only did I have rocky uphill trails to climb, but they were wet and muddy in spots, creating a tactical challenge! Nothing like the mud we had at the Fifties, but at this stage of the game any muddy, rocky sections just seemed overwhelming. And just when I thought my stomach issues had settled, the nausea rolled around again. I got to this aid station in the middle of nowhere, manned by three older women, who were just wonderful. They had melon cut-up and were making fresh sandwiches. I tried some melon and that seemed to stay down. I grabbed a sandwich and started walking, but quickly found that this was not going to stay down, so I tossed it aside and tried to jog a little. I really needed to see my crew and hoped that they would know how to fix me.

Your own worst enemy has come to town
Your own worst enemy has come
Everything is falling down
Your own worst enemy has come to town
- Bruce Springsteen

Birmingham’s – mile 54.1 – the nausea was just overwhelming now. Liquid nutrition didn’t even seem appealing and I couldn’t even begin to make a decision of what to try to do about it. Fortunately, I caught-up to my friend Jim Lampman here. Unfortunately for him, he was also having stomach issues. So we just stood there talking to the volunteers and trying to sample a few things to see what would stay down. Jim suggested some ice tea (sweetened). Wow, that really tasted good. Maybe this was my new magic elixir. I drank more and tried a bit of turkey sandwich. OK, good for the moment, but my energy stores were pretty zapped from lack of decent nutrition for so long, so Jim and I just walked and talked and headed for the next station where we would meet our crews. The company was really great and this mentally helped me, but my “stomach-ease” didn’t last long and soon the nausea was back. What the hell?! This was ridiculous and I was getting really tired of it. Heading into Tracer Brook I thought that if I looked pitiful enough my crew would let me stop.

Tracer Brook – mile 57 – I walked into the station with Joe who had come out to meet me. I was crying, wasted, and nauseous. I had had it! I plopped into a chair and nearly fell over backwards! Despite my pleas to stop, Lorrie and Joe bitched me up, force-fed me, and changed my mole skin and socks. Lorrie walked me out, I whined, she would not play the game and participate in my pity-party. Eventually I felt like I could be left alone and not harm myself, so Lorrie left me and it was onward and upward for me. And just like that . . . BAM! . . . I felt GREAT! WOW! Back in the game! Again, this was a long and unrelenting uphill but the uphills are my strength and I was flying!

I’m a shooting star leaping through the sky
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity
I’m a racing car passing by like lady Godiva
I’m gonna go go go
There’s no stopping me
- Queen

Margaritaville – mile 62.1 - eventually I caught back up with Jim and we ran into Margaritaville together, surprising Joe that I had made it there that fast (remember, Joe made this same mistake in judgment last year and missed me at this station, so I was really grateful to see that he made it here this time!). I tried some more of my Hammer Perpetuem, which worked wonders at Tracer Brook. I still could not tolerate anything solid, which really sucked because there were some really great looking cookies there.

I grabbed a flashlight and Jim and I left Margaritaville. I was feeling OK but about ½ mile later the nausea returned. I tried sucking on some crystallized ginger, which has worked for me in the past, but even this didn’t help. I was totally at a loss of what to do. So Jim and I just kept moving forward at a pretty brisk walk, talking and trying to distract my mind from my body. Although, mind and body were rapidly becoming two separate entities without a whole lot of help from me.

The night getting darker
Baby the darker it got
Struggled with why and what
But I could not fight what I knew was true
I was not gonna get through the night
Without the power of two
Me and you
- Neil Diamond

Camp 10 bear – mile 70 – I was still fighting the nausea but it seemed that soon I would be stronger because now I would have my better half to lead me; someone who could make me get over myself. Lorrie knew what her job was and I was confident that she knew what to do, but did she know how really bad I had gotten? I arrived at the aid station and was directed immediately to the scale for weight-in #2. Crap . . . 164 pounds. Weight gain is not good. It should have occurred to me that maybe I was over-electrolyted, but my logical thoughts were few and far between. Unfortunately, even if it had occurred to me, the answer to solving this problem would have been to decrease my intake of electrolytes and I had no caloric reserves to pull from so I needed to continue to eat or drink whatever I could tolerate, high in additional electrolytes or not, and hope that I would sweat or pee out the additional unnecessary electrolytes. Anyhow, I still felt boosted by seeing my crew and having them help me make some food and clothing choices (my brain was not functioning well enough for me to remember everything that I wanted all at one time, so Joe got a wonderful sprint workout running from where I was to the car, as I recalled each thing I needed, one at a time, only after he had returned from getting the first item!). After a brief reprieve in the chair, it was time for Lorrie and me to venture off into the darkness.

Who’ll be the last to die for a mistake
The last to die for a mistake
Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break
Who’ll be the last to die, for a mistake
- Bruce Springsteen

West Winds – mile 77 – initially I felt great and having Lorrie there to guide me and give me some distraction seemed to be working. We jogged and walked on and off. The stars were amazing. Lorrie pointed out that she saw the Big Dipper; I tipped my head skyward and - big mistake - the nausea hit me like a cinder block and I nearly fell-over. Won’t do that again, I thought. I sipped on Gatorade and thought I was turning the nausea corner. But it was not to be. By the time we reached Joe and Sheleana at mile 77 I was crying and sick of being sick to my stomach. My energy stores were limited, at best. I tried some soup which made me dry-heave. I cried some more and considered ending it all here. But Lorrie and Joe were great and made me realize that this could pass. I had bad spells last year and they passed, so why not this time? So I downed some tummy pills and No-Doz. Just walk, they said. Go easy. It will get better.

Save, save, save me
I can't face this life alone
Save, save, save me ...
I'm naked and I'm far from home

The slate will soon be clean
I'll erase the memories
To start again with somebody new
Was it all wasted,
All that love?
I hang my head and I'll advertise
A soul for sale or rent
I have no heart I'm cold inside
I have no real intent
Save, save, save me
I can't face this life alone
Save, save, ooooohhhhh ...
I'm naked and I'm far from home
- Queen

Cow Shed – mile 83.6– although Lorrie and I were still passing other bodies in motion in the night, I was moving on auto-pilot. My mind now seemed to be completely dissociated from my body. What my body knew was that the nausea and lack of caloric intake was killing me. My brain kept screaming “you can’t quit!” Lorrie tried to distract me but my mind couldn’t register the words and my stomach couldn’t be made to be rational. It was time. Time to end the suffering. No regrets. I had done my best. It was then that I was able to make the mental connection enough to know that I had other races ahead of me that I really wanted to tackle and was killing myself in this one shot really worth it? I thought of the recovery time that it would take me after this was all said and done, considering that I didn’t die trying, and made the conscious decision that I wanted more out of my racing. Finishing this race at this physical cost would cost me more in the end. And there it was – before I knew it, the words “how do I get a ride out of here?” escaped my lips. The aid station personnel radioed ahead to the next station where Joe and Sheleana were waiting, covered me in a blanket to calm my shivering, and I came to terms with my decision.

I did my best; it wasn’t much.
I couldn’t feel, so I learned to touch.
I’ve told the truth,
I didn’t come to fool you.
And even though it all went wrong,
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my lips but Hallelujah!
- Leonard Cohen

Taking from my two previous attempts at the 100-mile distance, I have discovered a few things that it takes to go the distance. Of course, you have to have the physical preparedness. I believe I had that; I had put in more weekly miles since January than I ever had before. But physical preparedness is not enough; your head and your heart are the soul that you need to get you through. Unfortunately, it took 83.6 miles for me to discover that I really didn’t have the latter two. Despite how much I wanted to convince myself that my head and my heart were into this race, multiple distractions over the previous months had dictated otherwise.

Regrets – do I have any? Absolutely not. I had a wonderful trip with wonderfully supportive friends and we had a blast. Lorrie got to experience running at night with a headlamp and experience the awakening of the senses that comes with night running. She got to see me at my worst and I got to witness, once again, the very heart of a friend who will try to pull you through that crap. Sheleana got to babysit Joe and drive all over the woods in the dark. Joe got to do what he loves – hang out with friends and support every runner. And ring his cowbell. I really do have the best of friends.

This defeating run made me come to some big realizations about my running and what I want out of the rest of my races this year. I want to run some good, strong races. I want to not just finish. I want to get some competitive spirit back. So, that said, I forced myself to make a big alteration to my Fall racing schedule. I had signed-up for the Iroquois Trail 100 in September and feel that I have the capabilities to complete it. But I know that, although a huge accomplishment, this would turn out to be another just finish run for me and likely have a longer recovery time, limiting some of the other races that I want to do after that. So I have decided to change my focus to running a strong Iroquois 50. And I am totally excited about this – it’s time to get in some quality rather than quantity miles and get my race nutrition figured out. And I will also get to do what I am really excited about – hang out with good friends, have fun, feel good about what I have done, and help out others where I can.

Notice that I have not included any times throughout this report. Time is irrelevant; it’s the journey that counts. It’s good to have a bad run once in a while; it’s good to have to re-examine yourself and your goals. And what I found through this self-exploration is that I didn’t DNF at the Vermont 100 . . . I am the official winner of the unofficial Vermont 83.6 mile race!

Vermont 100 Pictures

OK, many of you know how my run at the 2009 Vermont 100 came out. I am still working on the report and will post it soon, but until then . . . enjoy some pictures of the journey (CLICK HERE).

3 Days, 14 Hours, 40 Minutes To Go!!!!!

WOW . . . only 3 days, 14 hours, 40 minutes until until the running of the 2009 Vermont 100 Mile Endurance run! The weather is looking cool - projected for highs in the 70s, lows at night in the 50s, and of course, something like a 30% chance of rain in the afternoon. My living room looks like a warehouse again as I try to organize my drop bags, food, and gear. Of course, my little Yip has found her way into my boxes and I think that she would be happy to stow-away in a drop bag - she hates being left home!

I had to work this weekend and today is my day to get my crap together, but it's so hard to concentrate! I made my visit to the chiropractor yesterday and got my neck & back back into shape, had a nice easy run of 6-7 miles on the trails at the Finger Lakes National Forest with Joe, and now it's time to relax with The Tour.

"Stadiums are for spectators. We runners have nature and that is much better." Julia Vaatainen, Finland

THE BIG ULTRA IS DONE!

HONESTLY . . . I have been running. Now that the biggest ultra of the year - the work that goes into trying to pull-off a successful Finger Lakes Fifties for other runners - is now in the books. The deed is done. Check all how everything went - from pictures to results to reports from the runners - on my race blog (CLICK HERE). Now I can finally focus my efforts on getting ready for my race - the Vermont 100, which is now less than two weeks away!

As usual, I am overwhelmed . . . the Tour de France has started and Lance is really mixing things up, now riding in 3rd place overall! And best of all is that the team time trial, which has been out of the competition since 2005, is back and Lance's team, Astana, should really make a showing! And then there is my usual rugby addicition . . . the British & Irish Lions are still battling it out in South Africa - missed the second half of last night's game because I had to get back to The Tour! Right now I am in need of two TVs side-by-side.

Well, it's time to finally get in the last few miles before the big one next week. I will write more later and have made a promise to myself to get back on track with the blogging.

Until later -
Happy Trails!

Life Goes On . . .

It has been some time - too long - since I have written. Somehow, life has gotten in the way - again - of running and writing. I have been running, but certainly not to the extent that I would have liked. But that's OK; sometimes life takes a turn and you just have to go with it. I hate to admit it, but there are things that have to take precendence over running.

All of us in the running community are mourning the loss of a good friend. Last Saturday Diane Sherrer died after a long, tough battle with cancer. The two weeks preceeding her death many of us were spending all of our free time supporting her. It is a sad time for all of us who loved Diane, but good for Diane, as she is now at peace. We will all miss her greatly. Diane had been one of the first people I would call after completing a race, giving her all of the details and answering her many questions. And she was always a staple at the finish line of the Finger Lakes Fifties (click HERE) and it just won't be the same without her there this year. This year's Finger Lakes Fifties will be dedicated to Diane, and I know that she will be there in spirit.

I have been running . . . it's just that right now it's hard to think about what I have been doing and even harder to concentrate on writing about it. But that is one of the things that Diane really liked about her friends' running . . . the stories that they could tell. So I will be back with more details soon.

Round and Round

After Bull Run Run last week I decided to take it easy for the week in order to be ready for the BPAC 6-Hour Distance Classic, which was held on Sunday, May 26 in Amherst. This race is the first race of our Western NY Ultra Series. The event is held on a paved bike path which is 3.25 miles in distance and the object is to run as far as you can in six hours. For me, the bike path is TORTURE. It is flat (OK, maybe there are some grades, but it is essentially flat) and it is hard on my knees and hips. And I feel like I am running on the track – around in circles! This is the one race that I do have to listen to my MP3 player while I run (I only wear one earphone so as to hear the bikers and rollerbladers) to maintain my sanity! But I do this race because I want to support the WNY Ultra Series and the race director and mostly because my friends are doing it and I hate to be left out. And it is nice to see everyone out there as the day progresses and how they are dealing with it.

What I do like about this race is that you can be completely self-supported. They do offer two aid stations on the course, but we parked our car at the turn-around, put-up a canopy over the back end, set-up a table with all of our needs, and WA-LA, our own personal-needs aid station was born. The other nice thing is that this type of event gives you a chance to try-out new things and if you find that they don’t work for you, you can change it on the next time around. For example, I was able to change shirts on several occasions as I drenched one shirt in sweat, became too hot in the next one, and finally felt just right in my last choice. I started out drinking just plain water and added ice as I warmed-up. I have used NUUN tabs (click here) on a few occasions during my training, but had not yet used them during an ultra. This was the perfect opportunity to try them out and I found that they work excellent. Just drop one tab in your water bottle and you get a complement of electrolytes and flavor. I fuelled myself with Pringles cheese potato chips and chocolate covered espresso beans.

After having run a 50-miler the week before, I had decided that I would be happy to just get in 10 laps (32.5 miles) at BPAC. So as I started loop 10, it all seemed to become very easy. I think it is amazing how easy things can become when you know that it will be over soon. I finished lap 10 in 5 hours, 14 minutes, 1 second. I definitely had time to do another lap. But it was getting warm and my attitude was waning, my feet hurt and I knew that I had a blister developing. Honestly, I know that I should have had a better attitude about it and kept on going and overcome my mentalness. But what I really wanted was a chair and a cold beer. So before I could talk myself into going out just one more time, I cut the chip off of my shoe and made it final. And with that I sat down and kicked back with a cold Moo Thunder and cheered on the rest of the runners . . . especially those who had the guts to go out on another loop, knowing that they would not complete the entire loop within the six-hour limit (runners did receive partial-loop credit which was calculated when they finished the loop).

So I did completed my goal 32.5 miles as did Joe. Lorrie completed 35.75 miles, and our new ultra rookie recruit, Tamara, won the women’s race overall with 38.32 miles! Joe took me to see a real live rugby game in Syracuse, which was really really cool. Munster beat the Scarlets to keep their Heineken Cup dreams alive and one of my favorite players to watch, Peter Stringer, may now see some starting time, as Munster starting Scrum Half, Tomas O’Leary, suffered a broken ankle in the last match.

So, all in all, it was a great weekend. Next up . . . Highland 1-2-3 on May 23 – race #2 in the WNY Ultra Series.

“Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired. When you were younger the mind could make you dance all night, and the body was never tired . . . You’ve always got to make the mind take over and keep going.” - George S. Patton, U.S. Army General and 1912 Olympian

Diane Does Bull Run Run

(Diane's Team members pre-race - L to R - Will Danecki, Karen McWhirt, Chris Reynolds, Rob Scott, Ultra Joe Crew Reynolds, & Barbara Sorrell)


OK, I’m a freak. I like to run long distances. Running 50 miles at a time doesn’t scare me. Ask me to run a 5K and I will likely spend all of my pre-race time worrying about how much to eat and when and you will likely find me in the bathroom with anxiety diarrhea. I never have to worry about any of this stuff with an ultra trail runs. I know that I have plenty of time to eat on the run and that there is a bathroom behind every tree. I know a lot of people who wouldn’t drive 50 miles to run a race. I like being a freak. And I am lucky to have freaks for friends, too.

That brings me to the 2009 edition of the Bull Run Run 50-Miler and an opportunity for the members of the original “Diane’s Team” (circa 2007 Vermont 100) to come together and put our running shoes on in support of our running guru, Diane Sherrer. She has been our tough-love running motivator for so many years and it was again our privilege to be able to do for her something she loves. So it was with great spirits and a renewed sense of purpose that we headed to Virginia with our team of me, Barbara Sorrell, Karen McWhirt, Rob Scott, and Will Danecki, along with our non-competing-but-ever-important-support-crew-cowbell-ringing Joe.

I had heard a lot about this great race but have not ever run it, since it is usually on the same weekend as the Boston Marathon. I have mad love for the Boston Marathon and it was a long struggle for me to qualify for it, so some time ago I made the commitment to keep running Boston as long as I kept on qualifying. Well, I qualified this year but I decided that maybe it was time to try something new. I found myself bored in my last road marathon and realized that I craved the energy and attentiveness that trail running requires of me. So I put my name in the BRR lottery as soon as it opened and crossed my fingers and hoped that I would get in. Fortunately, there was no need for a lottery this year and everyone who registered gained entry.

After a dreary New York winter it was so great to get to Virginia and actually feel HOT – I was sweating from the moment I stepped out of the car. Since we would only be staying in Virginia for one night, Joe and I decided to forgo the cost of a hotel and the driving back and forth from the race site and we stayed in the bunks where we would wake up just yards from the starting line. It had everything we needed . . . hot showers, clean bathrooms, pre-race pasta dinner, and clean beds. We sat through the first pre-race briefing and as the race director described a couple of potential trouble spots on the course. I suddenly felt a bit overwhelmed as it sounded like I could easily get lost, but Charlie Leonard, who has run this race before, assured me that when I got out on the course I would realize what the RD was saying and it would make sense. My only hope was that I would remember to remember the spots and recognize them! The rest of our team showed-up for the second briefing and die-hards that we are (and not wanting to miss out on any potential fun), Joe and I sat through the briefing again. And I started to feel less nervous. Highlight of the night . . . I got to meet Gary Knipling who is one of the stars of the Massanutten Mountain 100 DVD (which I bought “for Joe” for Christmas – he has watched it once, me about 30 times). What a super nice guy.

Race morning came and it quickly started to warm-up and become even a bit humid. I quickly shed the long-sleeve shirt that I had on, donned some sunscreen and bug spray, and headed to the start. As I chatted with old friends and new, I knew that it would be a good day in the woods, no matter what happened.

Start to Centerville Rd AS (7.2 miles) I was immediately impressed – it was like a highway of trails! Clean and very runnable with some ups and downs. Everyone was still closely packed and it was very relaxing. Questionable mistake #1 – did I start out too fast? I did start out faster than I would have liked but this was a necessity to avoid congestion of slower runners once we hit the single track. Despite wheezing from the humidity, I realized that my legs felt like I was handling the pace OK.

Centerville Rd to Turnaround and Turnaround to Centerville Rd (11.6 miles) What an extremely beautiful area with bluebells in full bloom and trail that was flat and smooth. Downside . . . it was very flat and I therefore felt compelled to run fast. There was no excuse to be walking in this area. The upside? Seeing all of the other runners as we passed each other going in opposite directions, getting and giving encouragement. My teammates were all looking really good.

Centerville Rd to Hemlock AS (16.6 miles) Back to where we started from on the same trail we came out on. I started feeling a little whippy, grabbed more Gatorade and Pringles and walked and ate breakfast. Now runners started to spread out and I took a minute for a bathroom break. Whoa . . . who lit that firecracker in Will’s pants? When I came out of the trees I saw my teammate, Will, was now running ahead of me . . . and looking really strong. I watched him on some switchback sections ahead and he was quickly distancing himself from me. Note mistake #2 . . . taste the Gatorade before diluting it. Mixing Gatorade really can be an inexact science . . . a little too much water in one of those large containers makes a huge difference. I had filled my bottle with 50% Gatorade/50% water and found myself drinking either very weak Gatorade or strong, bad-tasting water. Either way, it didn’t work for me.

Hemlock AS to Marina AS (21.1 miles) I was so grateful to get back to Hemlock where I immediately downed two cups of Coke, some just plain water, ate a PB&J sandwich, salted potatoes, and chips before continuing. And I filled my bottle with full-strength Gatorade. I was struggling with a slight headache that I had since the start and attributed to the heat. But I had teammates in front and behind me and Joe waiting for me at the 28.1 mile aid station, so I had plenty of motivation to keep on moving. I ran for a bit with a guy who was running his first 50-miler. He looked good and was in good spirits and it was nice to take my mind off of myself for awhile. Despite still following the blue ribbon trail markers, I couldn’t kick the feeling that I had no idea where I was going and just hoped that I was headed in the right direction.

Marina AS to Wolf Run Shoals AS (26.1 miles) I briefly questioned myself, wondering if this course would turn out to be all that I had heard that it was and all that I hoped it would be. It seemed like I was having to do an awful lot of running on relatively flat sections. I like hills; I like to power hike them and stretch my legs and utilize different muscles. It seemed that I wasn’t getting enough of a chance to do this. And then there was this phantom stone in my left shoe. I had already taken the shoe off once and shook it out, but somehow that damn microscopic pebble was still floating around under my foot. So this time I took the shoe and sock off and shook them both out. Problem solved. I started running and the pebble seemed to be gone. For like 15 seconds. And then it was back. I just ran and tried to ignore it and focus on something different. Like the insufferable heat. And then came the gunshots . . . lots of them. OK, yes, we were running Bull Run (as in the battle of Bull Run), and now I really felt like I was in the middle of battling gunfire. Somehow it seemed almost surreal . . . at first . . . and then it started to annoy me. The heat and the phantom pebble started to take their toll on my brain and it didn’t take much to set me off at that point. Fortunately, another runner caught up to me and we talked for a bit and this took my mind off from my misery. I was getting a bit tired of the taste of warm Gatorade, but at least I finally got what I bargained for . . . some real hills.

Wolf Run Shoals AS to Fountainhead AS (28.1 miles) Just when I started to feel a little grumpy, some signs started to appear along the trail. I really hoped this meant that the aid station was nearby. And I was right and it couldn’t have come at a better time. The heat was really draining me and all I wanted was some cold Coke and water, which I downed a few cups of right away. After some salty potatoes and more Coke, I took a lime popsicle and left the aid station with my newbie-50 running buddy. We talked and savored our popsicles. Nothing ever tasted so good after running 26 miles in 80-degree heat than that lime green popsicle did right at that moment. And with that I was again renewed. No sooner did I start a pathetic little jog than I saw a runner coming at me. Here was Leigh Schmitt, now in the lead and heading for home! And he looked so smooth and effortless. We were definitely the polar opposites . . . his smooth gait and my lumbering with a popsicle in my mouth. Little did I know just how far ahead of me he was and how much I still really had to go.

Fountainhead AS to Do Loop – In (32.5 miles) I had in my mind what I was going to need from Joe when I would see him, so it was a great relief when I finally heard it . . . THE cowbell. Joe’s cowbell. There is no other like it. And then I heard Joe and I knew that I would be renewed again. Enter mistake #3 . . . in my excitement I forgot absolutely everything that I had wanted to ask Joe to help me with – the biggie being cutting the sleeves off of my shirt. I was basting! I got some ice cold Gatorade and headed out, just wanting to get this over with! I struggled with a little nausea as the hills just rolled up and down, mixing walking and running. It would be just 4.4 miles to the entrance of the Do Loop, but here is where I really noticed that trail miles are just way longer than road miles.

Do Loop – In to Do Loop – Out (35.5 miles) FINALLY, I was at the infamous Do Loop – and I hadn’t gotten lost yet. I grabbed more ice cold Gatorade and icy Coke. And then I noticed the freshly-cooked cheese quesadillas. I grabbed three of them and started out. After eating two I started to feel a bit bloated. Remembering my huge mistake of eating too many grilled cheese sandwiches at my last 50-miler, I put the third quesadilla in my pocket for later use. I found the level of difficulty compacted into these three miles to be much more difficult than the level of difficulty spread out over the last 32 miles.

Do Loop – Out to Fountainhead AS (37.9 miles) My legs were getting heavier, my body cooking, my stomach nauseous. The best thing that I did was dump that damn warm Gatorade and fill my bottle with ice water. Chafing started and I give myself props for carrying that pocket-sized tube of Sportslick, which literally saved my butt. As I headed back home, I saw Rob and Barbara heading to the Do Loop and they were looking strong. No sign of Karen, which worried me.

Fountainhead AS to Wolf Run Shoals AS (39.9 miles) Finally, I got back to Joe, where I found out that Karen had missed the 28.1-mile cut-off by five minutes. Her spirits were good and she had a good run and was so very gracious to offer her support to help the rest of the team to finish their races. And this time I remembered the sleeves. Joe asked what I wanted and I did not hesitate to say “cut these damn sleeves off”. It was immediate relief as the wind blew through my shirt. I felt yet another life come back to me and I left the station with my ice water and Endurolytes, not eating as I was certain that my stomach was full enough.

Wolf Run Shoals AS to Marina AS (44.9 miles) My stomach was still feeling quite full when I pulled into the station, so I just grabbed a Coke, refilled my water bottle, and left eating a root beer popsicle. Whoever thought of those popsicles for this hot day was a lifesaver! But remember that full stomach I had? Now it was time for BIG mistake #4. It didn’t take long after finishing the popsicle that my tank hit empty in a big way. I was wishing I still had that quesadilla in my pocket. Then the grumpiness hit hard. I saw a volunteer who had hiked in from the next station and he said it was still about two miles to the station. I really did not think I would make it; I felt totally drained. I wanted to cry but didn’t have the energy or the tears.

I kept seeing the water off in the distance and told myself that it was promising that I would soon be at the Marina. “Soon” is a relative term . . . more like not soon enough. When I finally got to the parking lot there were a bunch of people hanging around, cheering me in, like I was winning or something. What a boost that was. I looked like hell and they cheered and told me how awesome I was. I had already decided that I would sit down and eat and drink when I got to the station – I had a lot of catching-up to do. And lucky for me, Karen and her son, Eric, were there and pep-talked me as I ate. I got the update on the rest of the team, who were putting in tremendous efforts. I tried not to waste too much time and I would not have had to had I been smarter earlier. I am a great learn-from-your-mistakes-person but usually it’s at a great cost. After some melon, chips, potatoes, Coke, electrolyte caps, and Motrin, it was time to finish this thing off.

Marina AS to FINISH (50.4 miles) OK, it so way seemed like way more than 5.5 miles to the finish. I had a couple of people to go back and forth with on the trail and fortunately I got the inside scoop that I had needed earlier. A guy who had run this before told me how the last few miles to the finish would go, so when I started heading up the steps, I knew I was there. And when I saw Joe I was renewed again and was able to pick-up the pace and actually look like a runner as I came into the finish. 10 hours, 26 minutes, and 3 seconds. Not bad for someone who made some bad choices and who was certainly not accustomed to running in 80-degree weather in April!

Our Northern Army won the North-South competition – good for a really cool red bandana. I got my finisher’s shirt to prove that I survived the battle. And after three hamburgers, some chips, and soda, I was able to stumble up the hill to the showers. Showering after an ultra is a kind-of love-hate relationship. I really stunk and I was caked in salt, so I knew that the shower was necessary – a necessary evil. I did not relish the idea of that water hitting the chafed areas. But it was a small price to pay.

And how did Diane’s Team do? Well, since not every member finished we did not count in the team standings. However, it was the greatest team effort I have been a part of. Will ran strong, finishing sub-10 hours. Karen turned her efforts into keeping the rest of us sane and moving. Rob and Barbara finished strong. It is amazing what friendship and tough-love can get you through. I thought of Diane often as I was struggling, knowing exactly what she would be saying about my whining. Diane, you’re tougher than all of us.