running & cycling

Saturday, June 23, 2007

June 16-17, 2007
Mohican 100 Mile Run

This would be my second 100 miler in 30 days. I realized I hadn't given my body enough time to fully recover from Massanutten. I had tendonitis in my ankle and shin but figured I could run through the pain for however long it takes.

I felt fine for the first twenty yards and then the tendonitis started to kick in. I expected it to bother me but not quite that soon. The first ten miles were on a mix of dirt and paved roads. The hills were substantial but I didn't think too much of them in the morning. The return the following morning would be a completely different story.

I ran alongside four runners from Cincinnati. One guy had run Wasatch and six other 100's. We stayed together for most of the road section. I was known to them as either "Asheville" or "Massanutten" for the remainder of the race.

Ten miles in, the singletrack started. This was the Green loop and would be repeated later in the day. I'm always happier on the trails. I picked up the pace and enjoyed the gently rolling terrain. I thought much of the run would be like this. I made excellent time but had to get my feet wet on a stream crossing.

I made it to the third aid station at 14 miles in 2 1/2 hours. That was way ahead of the pace I'd expected. Amy Bly was working it and was filled with enthusiasm. It's always a boost to see someone you know and I didn't know a single runner in the race. She gave me some words of encouragement and I went on my way.

The rest of the Green loop went well. I ran with a couple of women from Michigan who'd never even tried a 50 miler but were trying to tackle a 100. I also ran with the Cincy runners but foolishly took the lead and really pushed the pace. We made outstanding time for the next mile but I knew I was overdoing it and had to drop back.

The covered bridge was the site of an aid station that would be passed five times. I crossed it and made the first big climb of the day. This was the only one with switchbacks and reminded me a bit of the Smoky Mountain trails. It was a bit steep, especially for Ohio. At the top was a road section and then it was back to the trail. On a slight downhill, I encoutered one of the best stretches of trail I'd ever seen. It was smooth and snaked around myriad twists and turns. Another guy took it at my pace and we put an incredible amount of space between us and the group we were with.

I continued on the Orange loop and was at a 20 hour pace at the 30 mile point. The temperature started to heat up and my tendonitis became very painful. I had to do a bit of walking, even on the easy parts. I came upon an out and back stretch and didn't recognize any of the runners who were passing me. That meant I still had a while before the aid station. When I got there, Amy was waiting for me. She had a break from her aid station since it was at 14 and 56 miles into the run. That was a major pick-me-up. I dropped my bag and did a short, steep loop and then it was back to the station again. Getting through the Orange loop took a while and I was glad to be done with that 17 mile stretch. At the covered bridge, we had to wade through the river. It was extremely refreshing and I took my time and soaked my ankle.

Next up was the Blue loop. Runners were coming back from it looking exhausted. I had another thing to contend with--crowds. Throngs of kids were out playing on this trail. It was quite rocky and had difficult footing. When I turned up to the left, the trail became a stream bed. It was nothing but boulder hopping until I reached the steep part. It was a climb on roots and rocks using all fours. It was short but was at a 75 degree angle. The trail climbed a bit more to the dam and then it was on the road and in the sun. The road climb was endless and led to a trail climb. It was then back down to another rocky trail and back to the covered bridge. The stated distance was four miles but it took about 1:40 to traverse it. I was glad that this loop would not be repeated.

The Red loop contained the two greatest climbs and the first started immediately. It was nothing next to the Massanutten climbs but it tested me a bit, especially with the heat. After a brief reprieve, another climb reared its ugly head. I was running with Suzanne, on her first hundred. We traded off position for the next twenty miles. A very exposed section of trail led to the bridle area and a rest stop. I was really feeling the heat after the sun had beat down.

Most of the Red loop was relatively flat but it went on for a good while. I had to rock hop a couple of streams and then wade through another. I was an enticing idea but one I simply could not entertain. I'd dragged a pacer up from Tennessee and couldn't let her down plus I'm not into giving up without a great struggle. A climb led to a road which went past a church and cemetary and then back to single track which took me to the Green loop again.

The Green loop was my favorite. It was nice to be on such friendly stretches of trail. There was another stream crossing but I could change my socks and have dry feet again until mile 87. I struggled with the climbs that came so easily that morning. 52 miles take their toll on a set of legs. The tendonitis was holding steady since I adjusted my foot strikes to land a bit more on my heels. It was still a sweet stretch of dirt and I cruised into Amy's aid station again with a smile on my face.

I still had four miles until Amy could pace me. I headed toward the fire tower, where the largest crowd waited and cheered us on. This was another easy stretch but it took longer the second time through. When I saw singletrack, I knew I was close. I strolled in and loaded up on food, changed clothes and Amy was ready to go.

The remainder of the Green loop was a nice stretch to start on. It followed a stream and was mostly downhill. A few fallen trees presented hazards but we made it to the covered bridge quickly. The Orange loop was up next for the second time. It started with a switchback climb and then onto a road. We came upon an older runner who appeared to be struggling. It turned out he was 69 years old and had run eight previous hundreds. He asked if we were married and told us not to wait too long. He then offered up his 39 year old daughter to me if I'd move out to California. He said she was single and owned her own home. You can't blame him for trying but pimping out his daughter was a bit tacky, especially in front of a woman he thought I was married to.

We reached a grassy trail and headed downhill. It was starting to get dark but Amy insisted on running without a headlamp. I wussed out and switched mine on. I'd walked a fair amount during the hottest hours of the day. This had allowed me to run a fair amount at night. My pace was mostly slow but at least I was able to jog. This was the most scenic forest on the run. Unfortunately, this time it was dark so Amy couldn't see it. We followed a ridgeline and then switched back just below the ridge. The aid station had grilled cheese sandwiches so I filled up on them. The generator at the aid station went out just as we were leaving.

At around mile 70, we were on a mountain biking trail which curved all over a hill. We could see headlamps bobbing around in every direction. It was difficult to tell if someone was ahead of us or behind us. We closed in a number of runners, slowly passing them. Then all of a sudden, I got a burst of energy and speed and we took off. I had run this very slowly during the day but made up for it with an unprecedented surge in the forest. Amy did well to stay with me. She had little experience at night running. She encouraged me to keep it up and we blazed past over a dozen runners, sometimes going off trail rather than waiting for them to let us pass. The pace continued down the hill and onto a grassy section. I stopped running since we still had over 25 miles to go. We made it to the Grist mill aid stop and sat for a spell.

The short loop was up again but I hiked the entire thing rather than doing something stupid on the steep terrain. The steep drops were taking their toll on my ankle so I did some sidestepping down them. Heading back on the grass we were in good spirits but I opted to walk for a bit. Amy said that she'd done some singing at her aid station so she asked if I'd sing a bit. I broke into "Mr. Jones" and "Born to Run". I didn't sing quietly but rather very loudly. We got a few cheers from runners going the opposite direction on the out and back. Amy sang some "West Side Story" tunes and then we broke into "The Sound of Music". Singing takes the edge off of night hiking but it's quite difficult to climb a hill and sing at the top of your lungs simultaneously. We had a blast with it though.

After a steep drop, we had a level section back to the bridge again. We made good time, moving steadily. This time, we could actually cross the bridge rather than wade through the river. I took a load off my feet again. The stops were getting longer but really helped in the following stretches.

The Red loop's climbs concerned me a bit. Amy handled them with aplomb but I struggled and rested a couple of times at log crossings. She continued to encourage me with positive messages. At night, that truly makes a difference. The second Red climb was just as difficult as the first. It got continually steeper. I didn't remember it from the day time. We had some winged visitors swirl around our heads but the bats didn't bother us any. We made it to the bridle station again as I gingerly descended the singletrack. The volunteers at the bridle station were extremly friendly and we talked for a good while. I loaded up on food since it would be over seven miles to the next one.

Most of this section was easy but it still contained some climbing. The temperature was warm until we got near the river where it dropped dramatically. A rock hop led us to a nice climb and some more flats. The river popped up again later and we rock hopped again. I miscalculated where the stream crossing was and thought the trail had been changed for the night time. I was wrong and we did have to wade through. I thought the road was just a quarter mile further. We could hear traffic but didn't see the road. I kept saying it was right around the bend. I said this for two miles or more. Amy didn't believe me any more and doubted that there even was a road. Despite my delusion, she continued to encourage me.

The road did appear, but after daylight approached. I'd hoped to be nearing the finish by daybreak but it was not meant to be. We passed the church and the "Enter at own risk" sign at the cemetary. The singletrack was a godsend since it was all down hill. It was just another mile of trail and then on to the ten mile road finish. I was actually looking forward to some road running. I changed my mind after a couple of miles.

The hills on the roads seemed endless. They didn't bother me at all on Saturday morning. Sunday morning, however, was a different story. I kept jogging as much as I could. It was comical because Amy was walking at the pace I was jogging. I think she was a bit frustrated but certainly understood that I didn't have much left. She kept saying how proud she was of me for making it over 90 miles.
A guy named Jeff had tried Mohican the last two years and dropped out each time. He bumped into us at aid stations and we passed each other on the course. A guy in blue had been doing the same thing until his body crashed and could no longer run.

The aid station at mile 95 took an eternity to reach. There was much relief and rejoicing when we made it there. The home stretch was now within reach. The last five went slowly as well. We passed a couple of more runners and Jeff caught up with us. The third try would be the charm for him. I maged to run a good bit on the roads but walked with Jeff for a while. On the last climb he went ahead and I just let him go. I wasn't sure how much further we had to go and we still had a good bit left. The last downhill was incredibly steep. One guy was sidestepping at a snail's pace. I took it easy on the descent and we came to a level stretch. The camp wasn't in sight yet so we plugged on and came upon a few runners. We passed them easily and then we could see the finish. Two more runners were passed and we entered the camp.

I thought about sprinting across the finish but since I was in enough pain already, I decided against it. When we reached the last two turns, my body made its own decision and it kicked into high gear. I felt no pain and sprinted across the finish. I was seen as a bit of a badass for being able to run a full sprint after 100 miles.

I received congratulations from many people. Amy completed her first 40 miler. I wasn't able to push her too much as far as speed but she still spent 13 1/2 hours on her feet. I completed the run in 27:49:37. That was four hours less than Massanutten. It was a much easier course but there is no such thing as an easy 100 miler.

Raging Bull

June 1-2, 2007
Pingman's Run

We met up and went to Marco's Pizza for the prerun feast. We had to carb up with a couple of brews and throw down enormous quantities of za. This was certainly a task for which I was down. Adam, Todd and I then headed up to Mt. Pisgah to camp out and head out for an adventure in the morning. Adam was attempting to run from Mt. Pisgah to Clingman's Dome in the Smokies. Todd and I would run support and then I would pace him, while Matt Johson and Sarah Almodovar would pace him toward the end.

In my infinite wisdom, I left the sleeping bag and pad in the car and we hiked up to the summit. It's just 1 1/2 miles, but it climbs 700 feet and is extremely rocky. We made it up and set up camp on the lookout platform. After turning in for the night, we were awakened by a dog sticking its nose in the tent. A guy had hiked up at midnight with his three dogs. Not surprisingly, I didn't sleep well.

Morning broke and we made breakfast, broke camp and headed down the mountain. Todd and I filled up on supplies at the camping store and set out down the Blue Ridge Parkway to meet up with Adam a bit later. While waiting, I was doing yoga in tights while Todd was strumming his guitar and singing. It had to have looked comical. Adam arrived quickly and we moved on.

Adam cruised right along and we met him on the trail at Skinny Dip falls. It has a rep for nude bathing. We were all topless but kept our business covered. They both jumped from an 8 foot high rock. I'm a bit of a wuss with jumping into shallow pools so I just jumped/got pushed off a 3 footer.

On the way to next meeting point, the skies became dark and we heard numerous thunderous clangs. The trail would become soup in short order. I wasn't looking forward to starting out in the rain but this is an adventure run so it was time to suck it up.

I started running at mile 24. It was pouring down rain and we were going through a wilderness area. The trail is not marked so we had to guess a bit. We made some wrong turns and had to backtrack several times. It was a challenge getting through that but the worst was yet to come.

The next section was 25 miles without aid. It started out climbing and then we hit a forest road stretch. I don't generally like forest roads but this was soft, with no gravel. We hammered it, probably setting personal best 10k times. The trail stayed on the forest road for a good while until an old growth singletrack section. That 1 1/2 mile stretch took about 45 minutes. The footing was insane, and loaded with posthole opportunities. It definitely was a not a place we wanted to be after dark. We stumbled constantly and hoped for easier trail.

We did encounter more forest road. At 8:00, I looked up the ridge and saw a mama bear, followed by two tiny cubs. She climbed a boulder and turned and looked at us. She didn't feel threatened, so she went on her way. She looked more like a male bear in size.

It was a slow go after dark. The trail went on forever. We though we'd pop out between 10:30 and 11:00. Those times came and went. We moved on. The trail just got rockier and rockier. We were banging our feet and ankles constantly. Mentally, it was taking it's toll on us. It was if the trail was trying to spite us. We had entered a Bermuda triangle of dirt and rock. Another bear took off running. We caught a deer in our headlamps.

After midnight, we were still going. We saw lights down below and thought we were just about there. The trail took us within earshot of traffic and then out of earshot. It did it to us several more times. It just would not end.

We finally made it to the rendezvous point after 1:30, three hours later than we'd anticipated. The 25 mile section took over 8 hours! Only, in actuality, it was at least 35, perhaps more. The guide book was way off. He decided this would be the end of the line. He did 65 miles and I did 45. It took 17 hours. The entire trek would have likely taken 33 hours or more. Sarah and Matthew greeted us with pizza and we headed home.
Raging Bull

Sunday, June 10, 2007

May 19-20, 2007
Massanutten 100 Mile Run

I'd been forewarned about the nature of MMT. This isn't the one for the first time 100 miler. It's the race that eats its young.

Mohammed and I met up and drove up to northern Virginia. After the dinner, we hooked up with some Charlotte runners and Dave Snipes. Dave went over what we could expect tomorrow.

My 13 pound pack didn't sit well with many other runners. I was told it would really weigh me down later in the run. The one time I went light on a long run I struggled mightily. I wasn't going to let that happen again.

At 5am, we set out down the road. I lost everybody and headed up the trail by myself. On the first climb, I was stuck behind a logjam. I tried to pass one at a time but it proved futile. I had to go off trail to get around the group with a burst of speed. I heard somebody say that wasn't something you do a 100 miler but that's how I roll. I met up with John and Bedford near the top of the mountain. The rocks jutted out of the mountain. I love running on that type of rock. They're stable and I wouldn't see too many more stable rocks for the rest of the run.

I took off like a mountain goat. Rocky trails give me an adrenaline rush but sometimes I get carried away. The previous night's rain soaked the trail. I saw three boulders well spaced and took a flying leap between each one. While landing on the third one, my foot slipped and I fell into a pushup position, banging my elbow against a rock. I got my first fall out of the way early and drew blood. That was a stupid move but it settled me down and I chose the route of caution the rest of the way. I enjoyed the rest of the downhill but took it a bit easier.

John and Bedford caught up to me on a dirt road and we ran together for a good while. This led to a regular country road for two miles. The smell of breakfast permeated the air well in advance of the aid station. I loaded up on some pancakes and started another climb. The route came back down toward the road again and I finally caught up to Dave Snipes on Indian Grave Ridge. This was a fast, easy downhill and one on the few that wasn't entirely strewn with rocks.

As we pulled into the aid station, DC was ready for us, having everything laid out. He was Dave's crew, along with John, his pacer. All of us took advantage since we were pretty close together on the course. We refueled and headed up to Habron Gap, along with a triathlete named Kari. It was a slow go to the top but I recovered during the climb and ran ahead on the ridge and then the descent. I caught Bedford and John and then Mohammed. I ran with him briefly and then went ahead to Gary Knipling, a ten time finisher.

DC was surprised to see me come through before the others. I headed up Duncan Hollow and ran into Kari again. She passed me on the flat section, which led to another climb. This climb was amongst the toughest of the day/night/day. It became progressively steeper toward the top. The descent into Jawbone was very mucky and would be revisited at night. I was able to avoid a good portion of the mud during the day but the night time would be a different scenario.

The Jawbone aid station had quesadillas. I loaded up on a few and started yet another climb. This one was smooth and grassy, a welcome relief from the countless rocks. At the top of the climb was Kern's mountain. This stretch almost broke me. I stumbled about the rocks and stepped on a large one which shifted and squashed my left foot. This was easily the most painful moment of the entire run. I feared a couple of toes were broken. Much limping ensued.

The trail kept crossing over the ridge with no end in sight. I don't know if it was tougher mentally or physically. My toes hurt profusely and I had to tell myself to keep going. Other runners obviously had issues as well since nobody caught up to me. I just felt like I was getting nowhere.

The trail finally changed and I caught up to several runners. The footing became comfortable and flat for a bit. This wouldn't last as the Waterfall trail was coming up. Waterfall doesn't use switchbacks in its ridiculous descent. It's straight down, an express elevator to hell. I curled my toes to prevent banging in the toe box and took very fast baby steps due to the coverage of leaves. There weren't too many rocks but really opening up the speed could be hazardous. I cruised right past a couple of runners and was soon on an easier trail, leading to a dirt road which took me to the aid station.

My pacer, Sarah, was waiting there at 211. Since I made it well before 6:00, I continued on to Bird Knob and she'd join me on the return. The Bird Knob section was the one section I had run before. It involves an easy climb which gets progressively more difficult. The trail becomes solid rock and gets to be a crawl. At the top it levels out and stays fairly flat. I ran past enormous anthills, almost African sized. The aid station had soup so I kicked back for a spell. On the return to 211, I passed by Mohammed, Bedford, John and Dave. They were closer to me than I thought they were. I ascended Bird Knob slowly but made up for it on the return.

The second time at 211 was at mile 58. It was time to change clothes and prepare for nightfall. DC took care of my feet. This was the last time I would see him since I got a little too far in front of the others. Sarah informed me that any use of expletives would be totally acceptable. I didn't know anything about having a pacer and didn't realize just how important it would be, especially on this very slow, tedious course.

We started up the road and onto singletrack, where headlamps were necessary. Two 20 year olds were hiking behind us. Making it this far was pretty unbelievable for such young runners. Older runners tend to do much better at really long distances. Both mentally and physiologically, young runners are at a disadvantage.

We ascended the ridge and ran a bit downhill. This led to the sloppy downhill I'd done earlier. This time it was in much worse shape. Nearly every step was in water, muck or both. We tried to avoid the worst of it but it was futile. I ran off trail once. All of the muck looked the same on trail and off trail. After an eternity making sure we didn't lose our shoes in the mud, we came upon the aid station. They had quesadillas, soup and all sorts of baked goods. We loaded up and went on to one of the shortest sections.

I'd climbed this mountain earlier and remembered it fondly for being one of the least challenging. I still rested at a rock shaped like a bench as I had earlier in the day. At the top, we went straight across rather than taking the godforsaken Kerns mountain again. The next aid station came up quickly. We filled up and went on our way toward the infamous Short mountain. Coming at 70 miles in, it is a misnomer as we had to go over 8 miles to the next stop. The trail is amongst the easiest of the run for the first mile. It then leads to a substantial climb but much easier than several others. On the ridge, the views of the lights from town were spectacular. The trail runs back and forth over the ridge but it is easier than Kerns mountain.

We were approached by a group of four runners while I rested. We hiked with them for a short bit and then went on ahead. They were struggling with their footing and were going too slowly for us. Sarah and I talked frequently to help pass the time. It was too dangerous to run so we just kept up a solid hiking pace. Eventually, we started to descend. The trail was just teasing us. We climbed back up, dropped down and climbed again. It seemed as if we were about through and the trail would climb yet again. By this time I had lost some of my mental faculties. I missed four glowsticks and white flour arrows on the road and tried to take a wrong turn. Sarah corrected me and I was in disbelief at how I could have missed such obvious markings. The trail can do that to you at night. It was just about time for the hallucinations to really set in.

The first hallucination of the day came just 35 miles in. A mysterious man in a gray shirt appeared up the trail. He made several appearances then went away. I didn't notice anything else until after dark. At night, I mostly heard voices. Often it was just the wind as Sarah pointed out. More came after daybreak. I saw a guy planing wood in a sawmill. A very large bus appeared ahead of us on the trail. Several phantom aid stations made themselves known to me. A fallen tree became a bus stop with several large individuals waiting to get on. The most interesting hallucination was an eight foot tall ostrich with clydesdale feet. The feet were piles of rocks and the body was a huge knob on a fallen tree with a short branch sticking up for the neck and head. Sarah didn't see it. It was there as plain as day.

More delicious food was consumed and we were on our way to Powell mountain. I struggled on the climb, although it wasn't one of the toughest ones. I needed to rest a fair amount. Along the ridge, daylight was creeping in. We were now 25 hours into the run. This was a new high for me in time on my feet. The ridge went on for an eternity. The trail didn't change much but my hallucinations kicked into high gear. Neither of us had coke at the last stop so we both became quite tired. I thought we were to the aid stop but it was an illusion. This happened several more times. A sign told us we still had two more miles to go. That was disheartening but we trodded on. We passed a beautiful overlook and two guys were walking toward us. Thinking it was still over a half mile to the aid station, we were informed it was only 200 yards. That was good news and I'd resigned myself to expect every aid stop be even further than I thought. They said there were grilled cheese sandwiches ahead. I quickly broke into a sprint to the aid station.

The grilled cheese sandwiches were heaven to our stomachs. I loaded up on Coke this time. Caffeine is a must after so many hours. At mile 85, I got an energy burst and broke into a near sprint. My legs hadn't been pushed throughout the night and they were ready to roll. I slowed down before I wore myself out since we still had 17 miles to go. The terrain became a little rockier. Sarah banged her knee against a rock. I did that at Pitchell and let out a loud yell and had to sit down to avaid passing out. She trekked onward but by the time we made it to the aid station, it had swelled considerably.

While I enjoyed pancakes, she iced her knee and it worked well enough that she was able to continue. She held tough the rest of the way. The climb toward Elizabeth Furnace was moderate. We made good time and on the downside, we moved very quickly. The temperature rose considerably and I was glad we were nearing the finish. The descent was completely exposed to the sun. The trail was parched, a perfect habitat for rattlers. I hadn't given any thought to rattlesnakes but a runner was standing in the trail telling us to stop. He had been warned by a three footer. We waited as the snake made its way off the trail. I always tend to be overly cautious after seeing a snake. Every step was made gingerly for the next few minutes.

We rolled into the final aid atation and enjoyed pizza and popsicles. Leaving the station, I made a wrong turn and had to be corrected again. The last climb had quite a reputation for being excessively difficult. It started out innocuously enough. We passed up a runner and kept a solid pace. I didn't wear a watch but Sarah informed me that we still had a chance at making 32 hours. I sped things up a bit and motored past a few more runners. The rocks became larger and steeper toward the top but it didn't slow us down much. I wanted to prevent anyone from catching us. I figured the top 50 was within reach.

On the descent, we moved very quickly through the leaves. The trail remained wide and led to another very exposed section. After a couple of more turns, to our surprise, several more runners came into view. We blew past them and hit a large gravel road. I was surprised at the amount of energy I had and we ran virtually all of the last three miles. We hiked up a paved road but ran as soon as it flattened out. A short jaunt through the woods led us to the wide open expanse of the finish lawn. I saw the clock and we were about to come in well ahead of 32 hours. The final tally was 31:49:57. I finished 43rd, much better than anticipated.

Having a pacer was paramount. It took much of the mental stress off, especially on the long, nighttime stretches. Physically, despite the myriad ailments, the run was easier than expected. With so much hiking, my muscles fared well. Mentally, I just had to take it one section at a time and not be concerned about doing 100 miles.

The ride back was difficult after being awake for so long. Mohammed started driving and I took over after a while. I did well getting back to Statesville to my car. After dark, it was a different story. I drove a good bit without turning on my headlights. I suddenly noticed that I couldn't see very well and had been concentrating on cloud formations out the side of my window. The hallucinations were back and I still had a half hour to go. I was up for a total of 44 hours straight. It's good practice for an attempt at the Barkley 100 miler, with a course record of 56 hours.

Raging Bull