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