Wild Azalea Trail Marathon

Or also known by the more accurate name, the Wild Azalea Trail 27 Mile Race.  Neither quite fits, as my watch had 26.84 miles, but that isn’t always accurate either.  The race was held on Saturday January 4, 2025 in Woodworth, Louisiana on the Wild Azalea Trail.  We stayed at a house in Alexandria, about 15 minutes away from the start line.  The weather was just about perfect.  It was overcast in the morning, with the temperature in the mid-40s and no wind.  We drove to the trail head, but found no one there.  Then the shuttle bus drove by heading back into town, so we followed them.  The start was up the road in Woodworth.  We had under 2 miles of road at the beginning to spread out the crowd before hitting the trail.  There were about forty-two runners doing the 27 miler.  The start was low key and just after eight o'clock we hit the road.  The kids ran with me for a block and it made me smile. 

One of my goals for the race was to be as consistent as possible.  I made sure to not get caught up in someone else’s pace.  We were pretty spread out by the time we hit the trail.  The first stretch was through some pretty brushy woods.  Overall, the trail was a good surface.  It was never rocky, and was very rarely eroded, although it did have the standard hazard of tree roots.  Really good stretches had a smooth sand or dirt base with pine needles.  The worst stretches were really muddy with standing water.  I got a little muddy at times, but nothing was bad.  The trail often had some sort of base material in the really wet areas, such as blocks, geotextile mat, or planking. 

 One of the mental challenges of the race is that there weren’t any distinctive natural landmarks to hold in my mind.  There wasn’t really ever a vista, it was all forest with low ridges.  The course crossed several large streams that looked alike.  There were several road crossings, but most were just minor forest roads.  The race organizers really did a good job with aid stations.  I think there was almost an aid station at every road crossing.  I don’t think we had to go more than four miles between stations.  The aid stations were unstaffed, but that wasn’t any problem.  They were well stocked, with pickles, bananas, cookies, chips, water, Gatorade, etc.  I had my camelback, and partially filled it several times. 

 After the first aid station, the woods got nicer.  Some upland stretches were really open with a canopy of pines and a grassy understory.  Bottomlands were darker, especially under the southern magnolia.  It was fun to look at the different plant communities.  The swamps and bayous were fun, also.  I had a stanza of Bilbo’s poem in mind.  “For still there are so many things that I have never seen.  In every wood, in every spring, there is a different green.”  I kept a sustainable pace going, walking up hills and running everything else.  The trail had half mile posts, counting down from the trailhead.  It was clear from the start that we would have further to go than the posts (somewhere near a mile).  Markers like that have pros and cons.  Early on it is better to not think about how much further you have to go and just to lay back and chill. 

 I think I went through my lowest stretch early on in this race.  Miles 12 and 15 were my slowest, but that might be due to aid stations.  I passed the ten mile mark and felt happy to have that in the bank and to be moving on.  I set my mind on the halfway point (13.5 miles).  I wanted to get past that point and to start eating away at the dark miles between halfway and the 20 mile point.  My left knee started to minorly complain about big strides.  I shortened up my stride and felt better.  I think the aid station somewhere around 15 really helped, once the food/hydration/electrolytes hit my bloodstream.  I started running even more and kept a good rhythm.  I was alone most of this time.  I was starting to feel the pull of the finish line. 

 I was refilling my camelbak at the aid station at 17.1 when a couple of runners that I had been running with earlier showed up just as I was leaving.  I set off determined to run strong and put some distance behind me.  I could hear them occasionally behind me and I tried to hold them off.  They caught up to me somewhere around mile 22.  They were moving faster than me at this point.  We stayed together for a while, until we saw the sign for the 10k turn around.  They were encouraged to know we only had 5k to go.  I was encouraged to know more precisely how much further we had.  They took off faster and I let them go, while staying determined to keep up a strong pace.  I caught up to some half marathoners and passed them.  The trail made its way to the fire tower, which I knew was not far from the finish.  The course left the trail and turned onto a forest road.  I knew there couldn’t be more than a mile to go.  I ran solidly, albeit at a slow pace.  After a short climb and a final turn, I could see cars parked along the road up ahead, which seemed to be a good indication of the finish.  The road made a descent and then what appeared to be a steep ascent.  I determined not to walk.  I spotted Joy and the kids came out and ran with me as I finished.

I received my wooden medal and went over to the family.  The only thing that was lacking at the finish was a good spot to sit or flop on the ground.  Gloria got the picnic blanket and a towel for me to rest on.  A towel on gravel is not great, but still better than running or standing around.  They had a rice and chicken dish in warming trays.  I grabbed that, some beverages, and relaxed.  They had propane heaters, which were appreciated, as I am prone to severe body chills after running.  They had pizza delivered while I was sitting there, so I got my share of that, too.  I was happy to have my family there with me, especially as the boys probably hadn’t been to a race before.  If any readers are interested in a January trail race in Louisiana, I’d heartily recommend this one.  The course was beautiful, the race was well organized and well marked, and folks were friendly.  The trail wasn’t ever boring and pleasantly wound its way through the terrain. 

Video of the run

Point Mariah Trail Marathon

 

Saturday, August 3, 2024, was the Point Mariah Trail Marathon put on by the Donner Party Mountain Runners.  The race hadn’t been on my radar for long, but it looked fun and everything came together to make it happen.  The race was less than an hour from the Reno airport, which made travel easier.  Some friends were interested also, so I started to prepare for the race.  I wanted to build up my endurance, but I didn’t have the time or energy to really put in the big mileages like I used to.  I also had to make sure I was smart about my joints and feet.  Nothing in central Indiana can prepare you for mountains, so my plan was to get in good cardio shape.  I know I have the mental toughness down, and I have been learning about fueling and electrolyte levels through trial and error over the years. 

I really studied the race map.  The setup was interesting as it had only one aid station that you passed through four times.  You ran to the aid station from the start finish (the orange loop), did the blue loop to Point Mariah, the yellow loop up Rowton Peak, the pink loop up Rowton Peak, and then headed back to the start finish line on the orange loop.  The elevation gain was a healthy 4300’ with a max altitude of 7600’ on top of Rowton Peak.  The highlight was Point Mariah itself, with the picturesque swing on the end of the ridge. 

I spent the night camping at the start finish line (a ski resort) to save some money.  I had a good hammock spot set up, but midnight rain encouraged me to move under the awning of the ski resort.  It rained off an on from midnight until morning, which was good to put a damper on the dust.  The earth was so dry and dusty that the rain didn’t ever puddle or runoff.  I helped the crew setting up in the morning and evening to pass time.  It was fun to get to talk to the staff.  Trail runners are good people. 

In the morning, I had plenty of time to get myself ready.  My friends showed up about a half hour before the race and I stored my camping gear and luggage in the car.  I was determined to take things easy from the start (photographer Riley Bathurst) and not to get caught up in the rush of the start.  Heading straight up Soda Spring hill would help me accomplish that.  The hill didn’t look too big, but the trail went pretty close to straight up the ski runs and took about a mile to summit.  This section of “trail” was very loose rock and dust.  The top was bare rock.  Despite starting in the back and walking, I lost my friend Pamela.  I walked for a while after the summit waiting for her to catch up.  I never caught sight of her.  The south side of Soda Springs hill was a beautifully runnable trail, with smooth pine needle cushioned downhill trail through deep shady forest.  The kind of trail that begs you to run.  Looking at my watch, I knew I had to get running to achieve my goal of finishing before the eight hour cutoff.  I reluctantly settled into a groove, but I kept watching for Pamela.  This first leg, the orange loop, was fairly easy after Soda Springs hill.  The race course eventually left the trail and cut off through a meadow towards some cross-country ski trails through the forest around the Ice Lakes.  There were up and downs, but over all it was decent running with a good surface and shade.  Right before the aid station, the trail headed down the hill to the dam across Serena Creek.  The small dam was about a foot wide with a big drop on the downstream side, but luckily the water wasn’t flowing over the dam.  A race staffer was there to make sure made it across safely.  Once across the dam, there was a gravel road that took you to the aid station.

Having just one aid station allowed the organizers to put all of their resources into making it an amazing aid station.  They had everything I could want.  Watermelon, orange slices, pickles, pickle juice, water, pb&j sandwich quarters, and boiled potato chunks with salt to dip them in.  I filled up my camelbak every time I came to the aid station.  I ate as much as I could and headed out on the blue loop to Point Mariah.  I had to head back up the road a little ways before a trail cut down to Serena Creek.  The loop started on a wide level bridal or ski trail, but pretty quickly left the broad trail and started switching back and forth as it climbed the ridge.  It started raining pretty steadily at this point.  I walked until the trail climbed out of the scrub and crested the ridge.  The ridge top was bare rock and dust except for scattered low growing flowers like buckwheat.  The views were incredible with low clouds blowing through the mountains.  The trail worked back down the far side of the ridge before making its way along to the point.  The inbound runners and the outbound runners to Point Mariah shared the trail for a while.  At the end of the point was the famous swing (photographer Riley Bathurst).  I took some time to swing there and enjoyed the view out over the royal gorge.  There was a whiskey aid station there, but I decided to pass on that.  The trail back from the point took the broad trail back that was fairly runnable.  I kept my eyes open for Pamela, but never saw her.  The trail went through a patch of thimble berries.  It snacked on a couple and noticed that a large mammal had been doing the same. 

After refueling at the aid station, I headed off on the third loop.  This was the first ascent of Rowton Peak.  The trail left from the aid station and started climbing a mountain bike trail going up the mountain.  It was winding and worked back and forth across the mountain as it climbed.  I walked most of this and this loop felt the longest to me.  Actually, according to my watch, it was the longest.  The sun came out and felt pretty intense.  Eventually I got to Lola’s lookout, which was where the loop turned around and took another trail back down the mountain.  In general, the downhill was less winding and narrow.  I wouldn’t say I ever hit the wall on this race, but this loop was the hardest mentally.  I was alone most of it, the sun was bright, and there weren’t many landmarks to set your mind on.  I tried to focus on being present in the moment and enjoying where I was and what I was experiencing.  I made it down to the aid station ready for the challenge of the fourth loop, which had the steepest climb.  The aid station had made quesadillas, which were amazing. 

This was probably the warmest part of the day.  The pink loop didn’t beat around the bush, it just headed up the mountain.  It wasn’t in the forest long, but was in more open, sunny brush.  As I climbed up the dusty trail, I noticed the sky getting darker.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds gave me occasional shade, but I felt more vulnerable without any trees around and being on the edge of the mountain.  The trail made it up over Lola’s lookout and continued along the steep drop off.  The views were incredible, but I kept hustling along to get down off the ridgeline.  The storm never broke on me and I made it down off the ridgeline.  The rest of this loop was a fairly decent run through quiet woods.  The race was all down hill from here mentally and I was feeling pumped to finish. 

Pamela was waiting for me at the aid station.  She had finished loop three and had dropped out.  I topped off my pack.  One of the volunteers told me about a concoctions that other racers were trying.  Half pickle juice, half ginger ale.  I made a glass and it was amazing.  I even made another glass.  The race director and Pamela were pumping me up and cheering for me as I headed out on the last loop back to the finish.  I felt fairly good about my chances to finish before the eight hour cutoff.  After crossing the dam and climbing up to the trail, I kept calculating my pace to finish in time.  I knew the last stretch was about 5.5 miles and I had 96 minutes to complete it.  That worked out to around 17 minutes a mile.  With 4.5 miles to go, I had 77 minutes to complete.  I knew I still had Soda Springs hill to climb.  3.5 miles to go, I had an hour left.  I was running most of the time now.  2.5 miles to go, I had 44 minutes left.  Now I was climbing Soda Springs hill.  My walking was as fast as I could go.  I had 25 minutes for my last 1.5 miles and I was still climbing the hill.  It got steeper and the footing was getting bad.  It was loose dust and rock now on the steepest stretch.  After climbing to the top, I could see the finish down at the bottom.  The descent was going to be treacherous, but I had to run as much as I could.  I was not experiencing Charlie horses in my quads (like many other races), but I knew that they had put in serious work and I had to be careful.  I ran across the finish line (photographer Riley Bathurst), crossing at 7:58 elapsed time.  I was overwhelmed and sat down in the shade to recover.  Another finisher must have felt compassion, because she went and got me some food and drink.  I eventually got a burger and picked up my race shirt.  The race director gave me a cool print of Point Mariah.  The race was a blast and I’d recommend it to anyone interested. 

Nipmuck Trail Marathon

Last Sunday (10/6/2019) was the 36^th running of the Nipmuck Trail Marathon near Ashford, in rural northeast Connecticut.  The marathon follows the Nipmuck Trail for the whole race, starting and finishing in the middle at Perry Hill Road, and hitting the southern turn around at US44, and then heading north to Boston Hollow Road for the northern turn around.  The timing was near perfect.  The leaves were turning, and the weather was dry and cool.  The morning started out at 38 degrees, and the afternoon topped out at 61 degrees, with a light breeze and overcast skies.  The parking was roadside on Perry Hill, which sounds like a pain, but actually was nice and convenient.  After checking in I could just stay warm in my car.  There was no check in before the morning of the race.  Plus, I could drop or pickup whatever I wanted from the car at the midpoint of the race, since I was parked pretty close.  I only ended up dropping off my gloves, but that was still nice.  I wore my camelbak and took my trekking poles.  I debated the merits of both before, during, and after the race.  I still think I made the best decision.  I didn’t use the poles that much, as I only really like them for uphills and ridiculously steep downhills.  There weren’t any real long uphill climbs on the course, and no really steep downhills.  I used the poles and appreciated them when I used them, but I mostly just carried them.  It doesn’t bother me much to carry them, since they are light.  The camelback probably was worth it.  There four staffed and stocked aid stations, plus a couple water drops.  It is a pain to carry poles and a water bottle, though, so choosing the poles pretty much made the camelbak necessary.  One decent option would have been no poles or camelbak for the southern half, but that was only visible in hindsight. 

The race started with very little fanfare on the road right at eight o’clock.  I made my way to the back of the pack to stay out of everyone’s way and to make sure I didn’t get caught up in an unsustainable pace.  I tucked in at the back of a conga line and stayed with them until the southern turn around.  This first stretch wound through sugar maple forest that were just starting to turn golden and was filled with old stone fences marking the boundaries of old fields and farmsteads.  The path was pretty well defined, but narrow and rocky.  Further south, there were hemlock woods along a river valley. 

I ate a half of a peanut butter sandwich, an orange slice, and some chips at the turn around.  Everyone in that group I had been following was gone, except for a runner named Jennifer.  We stayed together for most of the way back to Perry Hill Road.  I was a little worried when I got to the turn around that way back to Perry Hill would be difficult, because it felt like it was all downhill for the first section.  Strangely, it felt like it was all downhill back to Perry Hill Road, also.  My time was almost the same coming back as it was going out. 

There was a nice staffed/stocked aid station at Perry Hill Road.  I ate about the same amount, refilled again, and headed out.  I also had taken my salt tablet, which I did at each aid station.  Leaving the aid station the same time as another runner named Chelsea, we started chatting.  I had met her the night before and knew she had done many other trail races in her quest for 50 states.  We talked races for a long time, giving recommendations and telling war stories.  The conversation went from there, and I had a great time.  The miles in the second half flew by.  There was a stocked and staffed aid station about halfway to the north turn around, which we went by twice, and one at the north turn around.  The northern portion of the race, which was slightly more than half, was more scenic and rugged, but still not terrible for running.  There was a steep descent into and climb out of Boston Hollow, the north turn around, but there were stairs. 

I stayed on top of fueling and hydration, being consistent with my salt tablets, drinking, and eating.  I didn’t push the pace and took it pretty easy.  I’d walk up hills for the most part, and stretches that were too rocky to easily run.  The rocky stretches has high risk and low reward, were it would have been fairly easy to bash an ankle or trip.  I kept running the level and downhills, and didn’t cramp up or hit the wall.  I might have been able to push a little faster, but sometimes that works against me and I’m better off relaxing and staying loose.  We ran through the finish line and I took a seat on the road.  I finished in 6:22:58, coming in 65^th place.  There were 95 who started the race and 87 who finished the race.  There were three cutoff points during the race, with the final cutoff of eight hours to finish.  I was happy to not be in danger of getting stopped.  They had a big pot of chili for the finishers.  I ate, talked, and then headed to the campgrounds to shower and warm up. 

The course is beautiful, with a rolling profile that wasn’t too challenging.  The race is cheap and well run by experienced runners.  I am glad I got a chance to experience it. 

Westmore Mountain Challenge

(https://youtu.be/Kkuq8ZJgC9o)

Westmore Mountain Challenge 2018 The Northwoods Stewardship Center put on this point-to-point trail marathon in Vermont’s beautiful Northeast Kingdom. The route would take us to the peaks of five mountains, in order are Moose Mountain, Mount Hor, Mount Pisgah, Haystack Mountain, and Bald Mountain. Total elevation ascended (by my calculations) was 5600’ and descended was 5800’. After destroying my quads in Tennessee last year, I was determined to be smarter, even if it meant a slower time. I also hadn’t been feeling particularly strong on climbs, and I hadn’t done any trail running since Tennessee in November, which were other factors weighing on my mind. The course leant itself (in my mind) to taking it easy. Many of the climbs were fairly steep and technical. Much of the week leading up to the race had been rainy, so the trails were fairly wet and were covered in wet leaves, which hid the rocks and roots. The weather during the race only added to the challenge, as it was below freezing on the mountains, adding an occasional icy layer to surfaces, and it was misting and raining most of the day. The finish line was at the Northwoods Stewardship Center, so the plan was for the shuttle bus to depart for the start at 5:30. The buses didn’t show up until after six, much to the race director’s chagrin. It probably worked out for the best, saving me from having to use a headlamp. The start was very informal. There was a check-in at the trail head, and they wrote your start time on your bib and sent you off. I got started right before seven. The four or five people ahead of me headed off down the wrong trail. I wasn’t going to follow them mindlessly, and struck out up the ascent to Moose Mountain. The first two mountains were not separated by a major descent. I took it very easy until after the second peak. Here the trail hit a decent gravel road that had a nice downhill grade. I ran most of that road down to the bottom of the valley. Mount Pisgah was fairly intimidating visually. I decided to eat the tuna from my pack on the climb. I first met Tim on the climb and spent some time talking with him. The lunch/snack spot was in the valley after Mount Pisgah. I ate up. It might have been the eating, the stopping, or the weather, but I got very cold heading out for Haystack Mountain, and put on my windbreaker. I warmed right up once I started climbing. Haystack was the steepest mountain, both going up and coming down. It was snowing pretty heavily on the summit, limiting the views. There were some nice runnable dirt roads after coming down from Haystack, leading back to the lunch/snack station. Now was the climb for Bald Mountain. Since it was the last mountain, I felt like once I made it up to the top, I’d be practically done. The climb was long, but not that bad. It was cold and snowy at the top. I was preoccupied with getting my windbreaker back on and hand warmers in my gloves, so I neglected to take a picture of the top or fire tower. The climb up the fire tower was cool, but I really couldn’t see much except snow from the top. Only once I started to think about coming down did I realize how challenging it would be. My legs had done a lot of hard work up to that point, and heights can make my legs shake a little. The steps were narrow and icy. The wind was blowing hard. There was a cold metal railing along the stairs, but not at the landings. The only way I could see to proceed was to sit down on the steps and scoot down like a toddler (and pray). I made it fine. Tim was waiting at the bottom, and we headed off down the trail. The descent had lots of slick, bare rock that was very wet, but overall there were good running stretches. I felt good and ran most of the way down the mountain to the paved roads in the valley. I didn’t run much at all for the last two miles, which is something I could improve upon, but I didn’t feel like it at the time. If I had been running, or even walking up mountains on a regular basis, I am sure I could have been stronger on the climbs, but I was very proud of how I managed the race. Even with the fog, snow, and rain, the scenery was amazing. The leaves were a couple days past peak, but still stunning. I’d recommend the race to anyone who wants a fun atmosphere, friendly staff and racers, a good challenge, and gorgeous scenery.

Fiery Gizzard Trail Marathon

Foster Falls from the far side

One of the many little streams going over the edge of the gorge

Little waterfall

Almost to AS1

The jumbled rocks below AS1

The descent on the Dog Hole trail

Little falls just before AS2

Photo at Raven's Rock

The waterfall right before AS3 (after AS1)

View from the rim after Laurel Gorge

Foster Falls at the end of the day

Saturday (11/25) was the Fiery Gizzard trail marathon near Tracy City, Tennessee, southeast of Nashville.  The race course was an out-and-back trail along the Fiery Gizzard Gorge, in the South Cumberland State Park, starting near Foster Falls, and heading north to the Grundy day use area.  I drove down on Friday and camped at the campground right by the race start.  The weather was close to perfect for the race, starting out at about 40 and getting up to about 60.  I was cautiously optimistic that it would be a good race, since I had a good training routine during the fall, and had done well at the Stone Steps 27k trail race. 

Only 24 of us started the race.  I made my way to the very back of the pack to avoid starting too fast.  The first stretch of the course followed the rim of the gorge and was very runnable.  I chatted with the other runners and relaxed.  The first major obstacle was Laurel Gorge.  The pre-race meeting had stressed that we were responsible for knowing the course, and had warned us about several potential problem areas where we could get lost.  The trail was supposed to be tricky coming out of Laurel Gorge.  We knew we were at the gorge when the trail just dropped over the rim, making two and three feet drops a step down loose rocks.  Everyone slowed way down.  The trail was harder to see on the other side because it was just a jumble of boulders, but the blazes nicely indicated the trail.  The climb out was steep and rocky.  The trail after the Laurel Gorge crossed through rolling upland.  There wasn’t too much memorable about this stretch.  I hung out with small groups of runners, trying to conserve energy, and eat miles.  As we got closer to Aid Station 1 (AS1), once again the trail dropped into a gorge and curved around the head of the cove.  Here, the trail went behind a waterfall that continued down off another drop off.  I really enjoyed that section, which was new to the trail from last year.  We climbed back up to the top for a short stretch .  AS1 was right below the top of the gorge, on the descent into McAlloyd gorge.  This was the steepest and most rugged descent.  Loose rock was positioned in the fashion of steps.  Just below the aid station, the upper branches of a fallen tree covered the steps, requiring careful foot placement.  This was where we started to see the half-marathoners coming through.  They had started on the north end about a half hour after we did.  At the bottom of the gorge, McAlloyd Branch went over a waterfall, and we started back to the top.  The climb up was just as steep, but it had handrails and wooden steps in places. 

Shortly after topping out on the ridge was the spur trail to Raven’s Rock.  This was a dramatic overlook over the gorge.  The trail out to the point was probably the smoothest, flattest, and best trail for running in the park.  I took some pictures from the overlook and then headed on.  This marked what felt like the halfway point between the start and the turn around on the north end.  Through this point I had been running well, staying with other runners, and relaxing.  Coming out of Raven’s Rock, we got on the Dog Hole trail.  This trail ran along the ridge for most of its length before descending into the gorge.  I ran the ridge top stretch well.  The descent was a jumble of jagged rocks.  There wasn’t much running here, or at the bottom of the gorge.  The trail followed the Fiery Gizzard Creek up until there was a fork in the creek and trail.  This was the Grundy Day Use Area.  More day hikers were along these trails, but it was not too crowded.  We followed the creek up past some waterfalls, until the trail curved away and came to the trailhead.  This was the turn around and aid station #2.  I ate a bit, filled up the camelbak, took some snacks, and headed out.  It was fun to see where everyone was as we passed coming into or out of the turn around.  I ran what I could on the downhill sections, but overall, it was too rocky to do much running in the gorge. 

Climbing back out on the ridge on the Dog Hole Trail, I ran a bit of the small downhills, but I could feel my energy draining.  I was alone for this stretch, and it felt like a long time.  I kept watching for Raven’s Rock, but it took a while to come.  The sun was out, and it was bright heading south.  It was warm, but not too unpleasant.  I got to the turn for Raven’s Rock, and decided to take one of the gels I had stashed.  It was called ‘wholesome peanut butter’ and tasted like anything but.  I gagged a little, but followed it with a lot of water and a pretzel to get rid of the taste.  I knew I should be feeling better and should be running the stretch out to Raven’s Rock, but I didn’t have much in me.  I chatted with the hikers enjoying the view, had someone take my picture, and then trudged back up the point.  The anticipation of climbing down and up McAlloyd gorge took out any motivation to run now.  I got to the descent, and actually took that really well, moving fast on the stairs and rock with the use of my poles.  The poles were a big help on the climb, but the loose rocks made it challenging to find a good spot to plant them.  I climbed up to Aid Station 3 on the rocky steps and through the downed branches.  I took almost three minutes at the aid station to fill my camelbak and eat.  I drank too much Gatorade too quickly, but it tasted so good and necessary.  I probably had three or so large cups. 

A runner that I had talked to earlier caught up to me at the aid station, and we headed out together.  It was very nice to run with someone, and to have someone in sight.  We passed behind the waterfall, climbed out onto the ridgetop, and set our sights on the Laurel Branch gorge.  There were a couple other minor landmarks (a fence crossing, a small waterfall) in my mind before there, but that was the giant looming in my mind.  The other runner walked faster than me.  I would gain on her slightly when I would run the downs, but overall, she pulled away and I ran less and less.  I was getting to the point where it was work, and it took mental focus to keep my attitude up.  It got to where even keeping up a fast walk was getting to be taxing.  The sun was mostly in my face, making long shadows, as it crept down towards the horizon.  The race took place on Central Time, which meant that sunset was at 4:30.  The race cutoff was supposed to be at 4:00 pm, which was eight hours.  (They let three people finish after 4:00 pm.)  I didn’t want to be out on the rugged trails around or after sunset.  Finally, I came to the descent into Laurel Gorge.  I always do downhills well, but I was getting a little clumsy by this point and had to focus on foot placement.  The climb out was the steepest part yet.  I kept climbing, but at a slow pace.  This took up much of the reserves left. 

The trail on the ridge top was pretty flat and runnable, but I barely made an attempt to run.  The overlooks, however, were amazing, and the trail kept crossing little creeks that had to have made amazing waterfalls over the precipice.  Up until this point, the way back had been the same as the way out.  The race director had one little deviation planned for us, though.  Instead of staying on the ridge, we were to descend again, taking climbers access #1 down into the gorge, along the base of the cliffs to Foster Falls, and then climb back out.  This path was very rugged, littered with large rocks from the cliffs above.  There were many rock climbers here, as well.  Two other runners caught up to me at this point and followed me until Foster Falls.  It was nice to talk to someone.  When I got to the falls, I turned aside to check them out, letting them pass me.  The climb out was steep and rugged, but knowing that it was the end made it better.  It was a short run from the top to the finish line, and I managed to run that whole way.  Several of the runners I had been running with were still there.  I put on my sweatshirt that I left at the shelter, sat down, refueled, and discussed the day’s work.  They had chips and salsa, and quesadillas.  Instead of a finishers medal, they had pint glasses with the race name on them.

Looking back at the run, of course I am proud that I finished.  It was my slowest marathon finish, which I am not happy with.  I also came to a point where the trail had beaten me down, where I wasn’t running when I should have been.  That sticks in the mind.  I felt like my endurance, strength, or energy level wasn’t where I wanted it to be.  Maybe it was a combination of all three.  I think I would have benefited from some protein between AS3 and the Finish, but I didn’t take time to get it, and just kept pushing through instead.  I did stay up on the electrolyte tablets, and I think that helped.  Even with the crazy climbs, I never Charlie-horsed.  I did have some minor cramp twinges, but those are nothing, relatively.  Looking at the results, though, helped me to feel somewhat better.  I finished 19^th out of 24 racers.  The winner finished right at four hours and 30 minutes, which is an indication of the challenges of this race.  My time was 161% longer than the winner, which is very average for me in my other marathons. 

This run was another example in how different races can be, even if they have the same elevation gain/loss.  This race had most of the elevation gain/loss in big, steep climbs, and then just rolling trail the rest of the time.  South Mountains had long, long climbs and long, long descents.  Other races have constant down and ups, but nothing too long.  Each race presents its own challenges.  Each race is unique.

You can watch my video of the day here.

Berryman Trail Marathon

Today was the Berryman Trail Marathon near Potosi, Missouri.  The course is a multi-use loop in the Mark Twain National Forest.  All week the forecast predicted thunderstorms during the morning.  For the most part, the rain had quit before the race started.  The trails were still wet, muddy, and often flowing.  The numerous small creek crossing were wet.  Sometimes you could step on rocks to get across, sometimes you didn’t bother.  There was one big creek crossing, but that was just fun.  It was probably only a foot deep.  Although the course was located along the Ozark Trail, it didn’t have too much elevation change.  Only approximately 2500’ of climb and 2500’ of descent.  Nothing too crazy. There were some longer, gradual climbs and descents, but nothing steep.  The trail was extremely rocky, and not with flat rocks, but with pointy and knobby rocks.  I caught one and took a spill, cutting my knee, but nothing too bad.  The morning started out cooler than predicted, with a starting temperature of 58.  It eventually got up into the mid-70’s.  I felt decent starting out.  I carried my camelbak and my trekking poles.  If I was more serious about time, I might have left both behind, but the camelbak really helps me stay hydrated and the poles are nice on the climbs.  I think both ended up helping me in the long run.  I settled in with some folks that were doing a nice pace.  The course had six aid stations, and I just focused on the up-coming aid station.  I ran all of the first leg, to the aid station at mile 5.5.  I was shocked when I looked at the time, and I was over eleven and a half minutes a mile by the time I left the aid station.  That was the first clue that today wasn’t going to be fast.  I also knew I wasn’t going to significantly get faster.  The funny thing was, I felt like I was doing well.  I was really stretching out my stride on the down hills.  I was powerwalking up the hills.  I wasn’t delaying too much at the aid stations.  I ended up with a time just over 6:16 (unofficial).  That was just over a fourteen minute mile pace, including aid station stops.  Other than being slow, I did everything else right.  I did not get chafing, muscle cramping, or gut issues.  I took my salt tablets, in addition to dipping boil potatoes in salt at the aid stations.  I drank constantly.  I was mostly alone after the first half hour.  I saw an occasional person for the rest of the race.  But then, somewhere between aid stations four and five, I caught up with another runner.  I would catch up to him on the down hills, and then let him pull away on the climbs.  We didn’t talk too much, but it was nice to see another person.  I eventually passed him before aid station six, then he caught me at the aid station, then I repassed him on the last leg.  I finished the race strong.  It was fun to see Joy, Laney, and Gloria at the finish line. I don’t know why my time was slow.  It was humid and warm, but not that bad.  The trail was very rocky and muddy, but that doesn’t affect me that much.  The hills were really pretty gradual.  I never hit the wall.  I suppose the most logical explanation is that I am just slow.  ;)  I had a fun time, enjoyed the course, and felt strong, so I’ll take it.  Stay posted for video.

The guy in the center with the green hat and blue pack was the guy I  finished with

South Mountains Trail Marathon

The rescheduled race was held March 4 at South Mountain State Park, North Carolina, just south of Morganton.  The original race date in January was snowed out.  Since I was going to the race by myself, I decided to camp at the park.  The temperature for the lows were fore-casted to be in the upper 20’s, but the weather was looking dry.  The campgrounds were very nice, with good facilities, nice tree cover, and were not very full.  I decided to buy firewood and have a campfire.  I enjoyed sitting by the fire under the stars.  I slept well Friday night, got up early and got ready, and walked to the start, which was about a half mile away.  It seems like I have accumulated a lot of accessories, and had a lot to prepare, but each race I refine what I like to have with me.  This was my first race with hiking poles.  I had not tried them out before, but thought that I might appreciate them on the climbs.  I was right.  I brought my jacket and gloves with me, but these were not necessary after the first hour.  I maybe should have left them behind to start, but I hate cold hands.  I wore my camelbak, also.  It occasionally swings some when I am running, but it is nice to not have to ration water.  I think I would rather by better hydrated and slow than faster and dehydrated.  The race start was right by a shelter that had a good fireplace.  They were keeping a great fire going, so I stayed by that and chatted with the runners.  I do not have a problem enjoying warmth on cold days, like many other runners seem to.  I hear statements such as “I don’t want to get too used to it.”  But maybe other runners are somewhat masochistic. 

After some instructions, the race director played the banjo to start the race.  (Right on time, which is nice.)  I dropped to the back of the pack.  I realized that I didn’t want the jacket on after the first incline, and stopped to take it off.  That put me last.  I caught up with a pair of runners, and stayed with them for a mile or so, until they dropped back to heed nature’s call.  The first 5 or so miles of the race were essentially all up hill.  I gave myself complete permission to walk whenever I wanted, and especially on the uphills.  The poles were great, but due to unfamiliarity, I didn’t manage to lock them in place.  This would result in them coming apart occasionally.  That was annoying, but not enough to offset how great it was to have poles.  I was with the same group of people, and we would pass each other back and forth.  Some were faster up hills or through aid stations.  I was faster downhills and slow through aid stations.  The first aid station was supposed to be water only, but they had a full spread.  I ate a bit and headed off down the trail.  I was happy that even though I had been slow, I had still added buffer time above the cutoff. 

From the first aid station, the course went steadily downhill to mile nine.  I like running downhill, and took advantage, passing most in my group.  Four miles is a long time to go down a steep grade, though.  The aid station at mile nine (AS2) was near the start finish.  I dropped off my jacket with one of the volunteers.  I should have dropped off my gloves, too, but I didn’t think about it.  They just stayed tucked in my belt for the rest of the run.  I refilled my water, ate, and headed out.

The trail out of AS2 went through the most popular section of the park, going up the cove to High Shoals Falls.  I was looking forward to seeing the falls.  Even though it was still pretty early in the morning, there were a number of day hikers on this stretch.  When I got my first look at the falls, I was surprised at how high up it was.  I knew the falls were 80’ high, but the cascades below the falls went down much further.  The trail up to the falls became steep stairs.  I stopped at the overlook to see the falls better before moving on.  Topping out over the falls, I knew I still had a bit to climb, so I ate my tuna from a pouch.  This was a new test.  I wanted to get more protein, and this seemed to go down easier than jerky.  The next aid station (AS3) was around mile 15.  The trail did a couple “small” drops and climbs.  From mile 12 it went down for about two miles, and then climbed steeply up for three.  I kept thinking that surely I was getting to the top, but each bend would reveal more climbing.  AS3 was at the top of the climb.  I was feeling pretty good.  I hadn’t cramped or hit a wall.  I had been taking salt tablets at the hour, and that was going well.  I walked for a bit to digest food.  The trail dipped and then peaked at mile 16.  This started a steady four mile descent of about twelve hundred feet.  I like down hills in general.  The trails weren’t that technical, and we started seeing groups of horseback riders.  (We would stop and step aside for them, of course.)  But after about three miles of downhill, I was looking for a break.  I walked to the last aid station (AS4) at mile 20.  I was well ahead of cutoff pace, so I wasn’t stressed about getting cutoff.  I knew that there were some big climbs before the end, so I didn’t want to use up any extra energy before tackling those.  I ate a bit at the aid station and headed out, psyching myself up for the last 10K.

I only had a vague idea that there were two big hills between me and the finish line.  I started climbing, and kept on climbing.  The first hill was a 500 foot climb.  It seemed to go on forever, and I used my poles to pull myself up.  I wasn’t able to run too much coming down the 500 feet as I would have liked.  The biggest challenge lay ahead of me.  The trail went steadily up from mile 23, climbing 800 feet of elevation.  I never stopped moving forward, but I was walking slowly.  Two of the racers passed me walking up the trail, putting me last.  My focus was on getting to the top.  The final two miles were downhill, very steeply so.  I ran occasionally, and walked more.  With about a mile to go, a fresh runner caught up to me.  It was the sweeper, who was friendly and stopped to talk to me.  (His name was Johnny.)  He was more than an hour ahead of the cutoff time, but he was just getting a jump on sweeping the trail and pulling flags.  We talked for a bit and he stayed with me to the end.  It was nice to have someone to talk to in this final stretch.  I didn’t push too much harder with his company, but I probably ran faster than I would have alone.

I finished under 6:45. I was happy with my race strategy, and happy to finish.  Six thousand feet of climb and six thousand feet of descent are nothing to dismiss.  The cutoff time was eight hours, so I was glad to be very safely under that.  They took down the finish line right behind me.  I sat there in the grass, happy to be not moving.  I didn’t see the recovery area or other runners, and I was half expecting everything to be gone.  Luckily, there was food in the shelter across the parking lot.  The race director gave me a prize for being last.  It was made out to “DFL”.  I knew it meant the last place finisher, but I wasn’t aware of the acronym at the time.  Some people seemed worried that I would be offended by being “DFL”, but I told them that I didn’t mind being last.  As several of the race staff pointed out, it was a fairly fast group.  I went over to the shelter and ate some pizza and talked with other runners.  I hadn’t been too far behind a couple of the folks I was running with, although not close enough that I could have caught them.  The only area that I felt that I need to improve was being stronger going up hills.  After looking up the acronym, and laughing heartily, I decided that DFL for me stood for “Da Flat-Lander”.  I was the only one not from the Appalachian states, and it showed.  Well, I still don’t have a great plan for getting stronger up hills, but the more I face, the better I will get.  The race was well-run, the trails were mostly pretty non-technical, and the scenery was good.  I’d recommend the race to anyone looking for a solid run in the mountains.

I managed to get a ride back to the campground from a couple of runners heading out.  The race staff were packing up, and gave me all of the open food, like bags of chips, and fig newtons that I wanted.  Since I didn’t really want to drive the 40 minutes into town, this served as my supper.  I stopped by the nature center to get more wood and to chat with the naturalist.  She had worked on the fire crew for the November fire, and had a lot of stories.  I went back to the camp and relaxed by the fire, enjoying the time to myself.  As a comic end to the night, a spark from my campfire landed on the hammock, starting a small hole, which resulted in the hammock splitting in half at 3 am.  There is nothing like dropping more than a foot onto the ground when you are dead asleep.  I just recomposed myself, made a mental note to hang my next hammock further from the campfire, and fell back asleep until morning.

Deadman Peaks Trail Marathon

I didn’t take time (make time) to write about the Deadman Peaks Trail Marathon (DPTM) right away, but sometimes that helps to clarify thoughts. Overall, I was very proud of my performance during the race. Such a large part of racing a trail marathon is managing your mind and body and getting the most out of yourself on a given day on a given trail. The biggest changes about this race was the use of salt tablets and taking my camelback. After my experience of blacking out during the Rugged Red in Kentucky on a ninety degree day and then reviving with salt tablets, I bought some and took one an hour during Deadman Peaks. This seemed to make a difference, as I didn’t cramp up at all during the race, which was warm and very dry, very sunny, very windy, at a relatively high altitude, and with a respectable vertical gain and loss. The camelback worked out well, too. Granted, I would never say I was running fast, but I didn’t have any issues with it shifting or bouncing on rugged descents, or any abdominal cramping from carrying it. I felt like I drank constantly, having a sip of water at least once every five minutes. I refilled it at each aid station.

Right after the start, heading into the sun.

Race day, I woke up at five am to see the 53ers off at six am and to get ready. (The ultra runners started at our finish line on the north end, ran to the south end, and back to the start finish. We were driven to the south side, and just ran north to the finish line.) I almost underestimated how long I would take to get ready, with all my gear. (I took a hat, bandana, sunglasses, compression sleeves, shirt, running underwear, shorts, compression tights, socks, shoes, belt with camera and food bag, and camelback. Pretty high maintenance.) The shuttle busses left at 6:45 (there were only two). I had a nice talk with my bus mates on the 45 minute drive. The sunrise was very pretty driving out. The temperature was something under 40 degrees (some reports said 39, or 37, and the bus thermometers said 32), but I decided not to bring anything warm. (I didn’t want to have to drop any gear, plus I knew I would be fine once I started running.) I stayed on the bus until five minutes until the start to stay warm. Most people did not.

Cholla, juniper, and an old windmill

The race start was pretty low-key. I waited until almost everyone was past, and then fell in line. I counted 17 people, but I think I heard that about 20 started. I really wanted to run my own race and not get caught up in anyone else’s adrenaline. That wasn’t too hard with only 20 people. I just let people go on by if they wanted to. I wasn’t sure how the altitude would affect me. The race elevation varied from about 6300’ to 7400’ above sea level. The only thing I noticed was that it took a little more energy on the ascents. From the start, I was in love with the trail and scenery. The trail didn’t just skirt interesting terrain, it dove right in, crossing gullies, climbing through draws, up onto promontories, and along ledges. I took hundreds of pictures, and over 15 minutes of video. The trail was rugged and remote. There were signs of abandoned ranching operations, and some old dirt ‘roads’, but no real signs of civilization. Occasionally, we would catch sight of the big highway far across the Rio Puerco valley to the east, but that was it. I ran with a guy named Bill from Kalamazoo for a while at the start, and then with a guy named Glen and a lady named Stacy. I was generally with someone until the first aid station (AS1), but afterwards, it was rare to see someone. I wanted to make sure I took advantage of the aid stations. I timed myself at one and had a stop of three minutes. I tried to eat and drink as much as my body would allow, especially salty snacks. The temperature from the start to the first aid station was very comfortably cool with a bright sun. I was happy for the sunglasses then, and all day.

Working my way up Deadman Peaks

From the first aid station, the trail climbed up the Deadman Peaks. (I didn’t realize that was what they were at the time). It was a good climb, but it had a nice view. It was completely open here, and must have been quite different in the intense afternoon sun. It wasn’t too long into the second leg (AS1 to AS2) when the first south-bound 53er passed me. He was looking awesome, and had only had a two hour head start on us marathoners. A second guy was only two minutes behind him. After leaving the Deadman Peaks, the trail followed the west side of a canyon north. In general, I could usually see Bill from Kalamazoo up ahead, and sometimes Stacy. I even passed them once, with them repassing me eventually. (There is absolutely no competitive nature to this at this point of a race. In general, you keep track of where everyone is, in case of emergencies.) I felt like I was in a good groove on the second leg, running a bit of level and the down hills.

The view off of the side of Deadman Peaks

The second aid station came up quickly. The first two were pretty close together and close to the start, with a big gap between AS2 and AS3. Again I really refueled here. I had passed most of the south-bound 53ers by this time. (Only 20 or so started, and only 13 finished.) The super-friendly aid station volunteers told me that the most scenic section was up-coming, up on La Ventana Mesa. Most of them seemed like pretty avid hikers, which was essentially what I was. (I felt like a hiker who occasionally ran.) The volunteers were right, this second section was spectacular. Dramatic overlooks, slick rock, the trail twisting around hoodoos, and through ravines. The trail was very well marked. (Too well marked according to Stacy, who knocked down some cairns that seemed extraneous to her.) Cairns (piles of rocks) marked the trail wherever it was rocky enough to make them. Fence posts with white tops marked them in the few miles on the northern half where it wasn’t rocky enough. I didn’t have much trouble seeing the trail. I did have to stop and look a couple times, when the rock piles blended in, or when the trail made a sudden bend on bare rock. The day started heating up on section three. There were times when the rocks sheltered from the breeze that it was positively warm. Up on the mesa tops, there was a wonderful breeze that kept it from getting too hot. (Drying out was a different matter. I had to drink frequently.) Coming down from the mesa, I caught sight of tents and cars in the distance. Not sure how far I was seeing, I thought it might be the finish line. It wasn’t. It was AS3. Aid Station 3 was in the center and bottom of a wide, dusty, sagebrush-filled valley, very different than the rocky mesa. In general, the trail ran straight as an arrow here, following fence posts, and with little of interest.

Scenic canyons

Aid Station 3 was the last ‘full’ aid station. There was one more aid station, but that was only a water container on the mesa. Cuba, the name we gave to the little stray dog who hung around the camp, was there to greet me. He had run to the aid station with the 30k racers, and then stayed at the tent, getting himself into mischief. (He stole some ham from a sandwich while I was there. The night before, he had shredded my handkerchief and ran off with my sandal.) Again, I ate a bit, hitting the pickles and oranges hard. The next mesa, Mesa Portales, loomed over the aid station. Feeling good, I headed off up the trail. I had heard that the climb up onto Mesa Portales was the biggest and most impressive climb. Indeed, I could believe it, as I watched it grow as I approached. About 24 minutes out from the aid station, I passed a marathoner heading back to the aid station. He was not feeling good, and was heading back to be safe. I understood how he felt, from previous races. The trail didn’t immediately climb the mesa, but started bending around it to the east and gradually climbing. Then it made the steep ascent. It wasn’t that bad, though. Or at least, it wasn’t too me, since I was feeling decent. I passed one 30k racer, and caught sight of Stacy in the distance, briefly. The mesa top was a wonderful place. It was breezy, with the wonderful scent of pinon pine, juniper, and sage. It was an island in the sun that felt somehow very cozy. The trail on the top was comfortably sandy, and mostly sloped downhill very gently, perfect for a loping jog. I filled up at the water stop, and started on the last leg. It was not long after the water stop that the 53 mile winner passed me. I congratulated him. He looked amazing, running with energy. He ended up finishing with a course record 8:35 for 53 miles. (The next finisher was more than an hour and a half behind him! 8:35 comes out to about 9:43 minutes per mile.) The trail started to descend more rapidly from the mesa. I caught up with Stacy and we chatted for a while. We knew that after the trail came off the mesa, it hit a dirt road for the last two miles. I left Stacy shortly before the dirt road, and tried to keep up a decent pace. I could see another runner far in the distance, and tried to reel him in. Those last two miles took a while, but I kept running in spurts, which is one of my gauges of a good marathon. I never caught the other runner, but I did manage to get in under seven hours, and never hit a wall.

Heading north along a canyon edge towards AS2 with Bill in the distance.

Mom and Dad were waiting for me at the finish line. I had been able to see their trailer parked there for a good while. They congratulated me, and then headed out. I was looking forward to sitting, eating, and drinking. Stacy finished right after me. I love hearing everyone’s stories and seeing people finish. The second 53er finished a little after me. 6:57:56 sounds pretty slow, and it is. That is roughly a 15:45 minute per mile. But I was happy with how I handled the altitude, trail, my muscles, my energy, and mental attitude. I walked whenever I wanted to, and I stopped to take pictures or video whenever I wanted to. I made sure not to pressure myself with any time expectations early. At least until the end, I didn’t even have any stomach issues, and those were minor. It was also very encouraging to get the monkey of Breakneck Ridge off my back. It was also fun to camp in the desert with everyone before and after the race. I might have been able to push a little more, but often pushing a little bit can cost you more than you gain in the long run. Plus, I had a good time.

Looking east off La Ventana Mesa

Looking northeast off La Ventana Mesa

Looking southeast off La Ventana Mesa

Running on the slickrock

One of the little draws on section 3

More slickrock

Everywhere looked like the set of a western

A cool hoodoo

Looking down from Mesa Portales

Nice fall color on the scrub oaks

More fall color along the sandy road

I liked the bands on the hillside

Here is the compilation of the videos I took during the race.  It is over 15 minutes.  Sometimes it is shaky, so be forewarned.

Here are the results.