I don’t remember how I first discovered this race.  I do remember my first reaction.  “That’s impossible!”  The best I recall those were my words the first time I heard about the Highland Sky 40.  There were two reasons for my reaction.  First, I’m not a runner.  I still don’t consider myself a runner.  Oh I ran some 10K and 5K races ten years ago.  Until 2010, when I first learned about HS 40, I had no idea people ran “ultra” distance races.  A road marathon seemed like an impossible (and ridiculous) task to me.

Second, I consider Dolly Sods to be my home turf.  In the early 60’s my family built a cabin on the banks of the South Prong of Red Creek in Laneville.  Yes, the same South Prong the race course crosses just before aid station 3.  I’ve been on these trails my entire life hunting, fishing and backpacking.  I already knew how rough they are.  Forty miles on these trails seemed, well, impossible.

Yet I knew it must not be impossible because people were doing it.  In fact, the Highland website did include a list of finishers to my amazement.  The more I read about this race, the more intrigued I became.  I started reading about ultra running.  Imagine my surprise upon learning 40 miles is a short ultra.  Before I had even admitted it, I knew I had to run this race.

My friends and family would ask, “Why?”  “I don’t know,” would be my answer.  I simply felt like this was something I had to do.  I started talking about it all the time.  In 2011, I scheduled a backpacking trip across roaring plains on race day so I could actually see the runners.  After watching several runners come up South Prong trail through aid station 3, my mind was set.  I went home and bought a pair of trail running shoes.  Still yet, I don’t really know why I decided to do something so out of the ordinary for me.

I have to admit, I was very nervous leading up to this race.  This was the first time I ever signed up for a race where just finishing the race was in question.  I intended to start my training in earnest during the spring of 2012.  The only problem was that I also quit my job and started my own business at this exact same time.  Turns out running a small business takes A LOT of time.  My available running time was nearly nonexistent for most of 2012, which only fueled my anxiety about this race.  I finally came to the realization that I simply was not going to be able to put in many miles during the week.  As the business grew, this problem didn’t get any better in 2013.

But when I had the time, I ran.  Once 2013 got here, I made certain to get a long run in every week.  I ran fourteen miles, then 18, then 20.  Running 20 miles was a mixed blessing for me.  On one hand, I couldn’t believe I actually ran 20 miles.  That was never on my list of things to do in life.  On the other hand, I was only half way there.  However, I soon ran the first half of the race course in April.  Then I did it again in May.  Then I ran to aid station 6 on Memorial Day weekend.  That was truly the turning point.  I said to myself on that day, “If I can run 27 miles of this course, I will finish this thing!”  Looking back, these long runs were both a blessing and a curse (more on that later.)

I want to go on a tangent for just a minute.  When I first started thinking about doing this race, I didn’t tell very many people.  This was because I didn’t want to tell people I was doing this and then decide I couldn’t.  As I started to run more, I started to mention my plan to some of the folks I ran with at times.  Some were overly encouraging.  They would tell me things like, “You can do it.  I know you can.”  That didn’t help much because neither of us knew if I could complete this race.  These were just empty words.  Others offered seemingly discouraging words.  I had one individual, who is an HS 40 finisher, explain to me how the HS was not a good first ultra, how I should run at least a road marathon first and how I should pick a different race.  To him, I say thank you.  I also say, I don’t want to pick a different first ultra.  I don’t want to run a road marathon – EVER.  I want to run this ultra, this year!  Any questions?  As I crowd 40 years old, I’m getting pretty sensitive to people telling me I can’t do things.  This was great motivation that I remain thankful for.

As race day grew closer, my anxiety level grew.  I can’t explain why.  I was confident I would finish within the cutoffs, which was my only goal for this race.  I tried to hide the anxiety.  I tried to act normal.  I don’t think I did.  I just wanted to get this thing started.

I noticed the crowd of runners all walking toward what I assumed was the start.  I didn’t even hear anyone say go.  Everyone just started running down the road.  I had to hold myself back on the road.  I was so jacked up I wanted to sprint down the black top.  We were off the road soon enough and headed up Flat Rock Run trail.

Flat Rock Run

Flat Rock went by quickly enough.  It was wet.  Really wet.  I ran the flatter sections and walked the steeper parts.  No problems with the nettles.  They were there, but easy to avoid.  My shoes and socks were soaked in this section.  They couldn’t have been any more wet.  I was amazed to watch people just like me trying to tip toe around mud and water.  “Your shoes are already soaked.  Just go,” I kept thinking.  I couldn’t understand all these people trying to figure out how to cross Flat Rock creek.  I just plowed through and must have passed 6 or 8 people right there.

Roaring Plains

Roaring Plains was probably the highlight of my day.  I felt great!  I ended up right behind a guy from Huntington.  It was as if God had placed the perfect pacer right in front of me.  I felt like I was floating through the rocks.  There were people walking downhill sections.  There were people stumbling and bumbling around.  I can’t remember how many people we passed in this section but it was a bunch.  No one passed us.  We hit aid station 2 shortly after 2 hours.  This section couldn’t have gone any better.  I was on top of the world here.

Boar’s Nest and South Prong

I hate the hill going down Boar’s Nest.  First, it’s steep and wet and covered in loose rocks.  I’ve never quite figured out the best way to get down this hill.  This hill has always caused the onset of some knee issues during my training runs.  It did the same thing during the race.  At least, I’m consistent.  I took it really easy on the downhill.  I got down it and was glad to have it behind me.  South Prong trail is a different story.  It’s a lot like Flat Rock – an old railroad grade.  I made to aid station three and put this section in the books.

The section between aid station three and the road is another section I don’t like.  There’s nothing wrong with it, but I think I’m ready to be on some easier terrain after Roaring Plains.  I think my problem with this section is that other race reports talk about it like it’s a quick stroll through the park.  It’s not.  It’s rocky – very rocky.  It starts with probably the steepest, rockiest climb of the course.  It continues to be a very rocky, technical section of single track until close to the road.  Nevertheless, I made it in fine shape.  I counted off the ten bridges and made my way to the road and aid station 4.

The Road

I got a big surprise at aid station 4.  I knew my wife and friends would be there waiting to meet me.  I was looking forward to picking up some snacks and maybe dry shoes.  What I didn’t realize was the boost I would get from seeing them cheering me on and running around trying to help as quickly as possible.  It was as if Dale Earnhardt had pulled in for a pit stop.  My buddy John even changed my shoes and socks because I kept getting cramps when I bent my leg enough to take my shoe off.  John, that was above and beyond the call of duty.  Thanks!

I only stopped for maybe five minutes, which was much longer than the 30 seconds spent in each of the previous two aid stations.  I ate a few Pringles and had about my 10th Clif Shot of the day.   After my wife gave me two new water bottles and a liberal dose of sunscreen, I was off.  This was the high point of the race for me.

The Road Across the Sky doesn’t mentally bother me like it does others.  I’ve been up there so many times in my life I know exactly where I am on the road and what’s over the next rise.  What did bother me was all the runners I had previously passed on Roaring Plains passing me on the road.  In all honesty, I hated being passed on a gravel road, but there was nothing I could do about it.  I think this was the first time I started feeling the fatigue.  I just couldn’t keep up with these people on the road.    In hindsight, this is where my day began to go downhill.

I suspected this would happen.  I’ve never had ups and downs like I read about other runners having.  Every run is the same for me.  I start out feeling slow and lethargic.  I then start to feel strong after a few miles and then I gradually get more and more tired the longer I run.  It’s really pretty simple.  After about 20 miles, I progressively get more and more tired.  Seems perfectly logical to me.

Aid Station 6 To Aid Station 8

I can sum up the rest of the race pretty easily after aid station 6.  “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.  I’ll never do this again!”  In reality, things didn’t get too bad until I was almost to Rocky Ridge trail.  Quite simply, the longer I was on my feet, the more it hurt.  While I did have a couple of different nagging pains, what I’m talking about here is not really pain.  My legs had never felt so tired.  Tired to the point it felt like they hurt.  All I could think about was sitting down.  I have never so badly wanted to just sit down.  But I knew if I sat down, that would be that much longer before I finished so I just kept going.  I was mostly walking, but I would occasionally lapse into a half-hearted jog on a downhill section.  This point in the race was, by far, the most physically challenged I have ever been.

I didn’t look at the scenery.  I didn’t take pictures.  I told myself, “constant forward motion,” over and over.  The other thing I did was listen to my IPod.  I listened to a particular section of the audiobook Lone Survivor by US Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell.    All I will say here is his ordeal reminded me what I was dealing with really wasn’t that bad.

This was not a pretty portion of the day for me.  I have to admit – I was miserable.  I decided right there my ultra running career began and ended with this Highland Sky.  I really didn’t want to have this kind of experience in my first ultra.  When I think back on this race, this is, unfortunately, what I think of.  From about mile 30 to aid station 8, was just plain bad for me.  The only good that came from this portion of the race – I never even thought of dropping.

Aid Station 8 to the Finish

I got another big surprise at Aid Station 8.  I was again amazed at how glad I was to see my wife and friends waiting for me.  I knew they would be there.  In fact, my friends John and Rachel were planning to run the last 4 miles to the finish with me.  I just didn’t realize what a huge mental boost I would get from seeing them.

I would guess that I spent less than a minute in this aid station, which had been my norm the entire day (except AS 4 when I changed shoes).  John, Rachel and I soon started a very slow jog/shuffle down the blacktop road.  I just couldn’t keep it up for long.  I had to walk.  Then shuffle.  Then walk some more.

Probably my most vivid memory from this section of the race is of something I wanted to do, not something I did.  We were shuffling along with about two and half miles to go.  I see this guy jogging toward us.  Even at some distance, I could tell this guy was not a racer.  First of all, he was clean, unlike me.  He had on a fresh T-shirt, his hair was all fluffy and he had hardly broken a sweat.  He smelled like cologne when he passed.  As he was approaching me, he looked right at me and said, “Come on! Pick it up.”

The urge to punch this guy right in the face overwhelmed me.  I mean it almost got away from me.  I don’t think I’ve had that strong of an urge to punch someone since I was in high school over twenty years ago.  I can’t explain how close I came to letting a left hook fly on Mr. Fluffy Hair.  As I write this, I am kind of ashamed of how I let my emotions get away from me like that.  I can’t believe how close I came to punching that guy.  I guess it was a long day.  I can only blame this near lapse of judgment to extreme fatigue.

Fortunately, we soon hit the one mile to go sign without further incident.  I’m sure that sign only said something like “1 mile.”  What I saw was, “You only have one mile left.  If you hurry up, you can sit down sooner.”  I took off.  I don’t know where the energy came from, but I really took off.  I mean I was running!  Not jogging.  Running at 5K pace running.  I was like a horse headed back to the barn.  I still don’t know where that came from.  I think I just wanted to be done so I could sit down.

My goal in this race was to be an official finisher – under 12 hours.  My secret goal that I didn’t tell anyone about was to finish in under 10 hours.  I felt silly to say out loud that I wanted to finish Highland Sky in under 10 hours when there was a time not long ago I wasn’t too sure about finishing at all.

I crossed the finish line at 9:54:04.  It was a bittersweet end.  My finish time was better than I could have ever dreamed three years earlier when I learned about this race.  On one hand, I couldn’t have been happier about my time.  On the other, there were some very low points along the way.

I didn’t realize at the time how much I wanted to enjoy this day and wanted to like ultra running.  All of the hours of running in the cold, the rain, the snow and the dark had led me to this very moment.  I accomplished things I never thought were possible.  I really wanted to enjoy this day and this race.

I enjoyed the beginning and the first half.  I enjoyed when it ended.

I don’t know if this is really a race report.  This is more me, a way to write down my thoughts of this experience.  It’s now been over two months since the race.  I’m still not sure yet what I think about ultra running.  I’ve been asked time after time, “Are you going to do it again?”  My reply is still, “I’ll get back to you on that.”  It’s more of a possibility now than it was two months ago.

I have been absolutely amazed at the physical toll this race took on me.  It has taken a visit to the doctor and a month and a half to recover.  I can see several things I would change in my training that I think would make a huge difference in my ability to run this race again vs. endure this race.  I don’t know about next year.  I’ll get back to you on that.

Thank you Brenda for putting up with this crazy idea I got in my head.  There were a lot of days I should have been doing things at home that I was out running some trail.  Thanks for all of your help on race day.  I’m so glad you were there to share it with me.  I love you.  Thank you Adam for all of your advice.  It is a simple fact that I would have been doomed if not for your advice.  Everything you told me was much appreciated and dead on accurate.  John, thanks for changing my shoes and socks.  That was above and beyond!  Thanks to you and Rachel for running the last 4 with me.  I would have never made sub 10 without you two.  Thanks to Clint and Julie for a great post-race meal.  Thanks to Dan and all of the volunteers.  You put on a great race.  I appreciate you so graciously answering all of my newbie questions during the trail clearing day.  I thank God for the ability I have been blessed with to do something like this in such a beautiful place.  Also, thanks for reading.

Finally, to the gentleman with the pick a different race advice, if you check the race results for the 2013 Highland Sky 40 beside 85^th place, you will find my name.  Thanks for the motivation.

Highlands Sky 2013

Upon reaching the finish line, I realized that the intense training for HS is no longer required. I was fearful that I would physically abuse myself had I not put in adequate time and effort in training. Every drop of the effort was utilized on Saturday. Questions have arisen regarding our PR’s. There is no doubt for me that the lack of heat and intense humidity contributed more significantly than the change in course. The CRR would have all done well given the amount of training assistance provided. David, Jeremy, Ashley, and even Dennis were quite remarkable. While many of you do not know Pete Daly (Dennis’s first cousin), he struggled with his stomach and did not finish as he had hoped. For a change, I did not think I was going to die on the course, but I did experience significant pain going down the ski slope.

Early in the race, Dennis and I were caught behind a large group that slowed us down significantly, but they may have helped us in the end, by preventing us from going out too fast. Ultimately, our only choice was to plow through the middle of a mud bog to get around them. In several of those bogs we went in to our knees. The fellow who took the pictures, Nick, followed us through one of the bogs and remained close for several miles, at least until the second aid station as could be seen in the picture. Dennis was rather patient with me, but after about 6 miles, he reluctantly went ahead as I suggested. I did not see him again until the end when I found that he had finished nearly 30 minutes before me. Kudos to Dennis.

For those of you unfamiliar with the course, and if you have not heard me speak before about HS, please know that I hate rocks. By the time this race was over I not only hated rocks, I hated rocks that were underwater and unseen. I hated rocks that punched through your shoes, I hated rocks that were slippery and I hated rocks that you have to climb over when your legs are spent. As a trail runner, I am very surprised at how much I looked forward to the gravel road and the paved road to the entrance of the park. I actually held back some earlier in the race so that I could pick up speed on that part of the course.

As usual, Dan put on a great race; there was great scenery, and super camaraderie. For those who have not attempted this challenge, start training early in the year and make it a focus to at least complete one. Sorry to run, but my client just got here.

Tired, yet content,

Rick

I always wanted to write a race report for Highland Sky but just never have taken the time. Since this was my 10^th year running it and the 11^th year involved (aid station 5 1st year), I felt compelled to do so. This race is by far my favorite, for the beautiful views, the varied terrain and oh yes, all the rocky, muddy and wet wonderful trails.  With all that the race wouldn’t be what it is without all the great people that pull together to make it work. Hats off to Dan, Adam and all the volunteers that give countless hours to this race. I do want to mention my wife also; she has been at aid station 5 ten of the eleven years of highland, it’s always nice to see her smiling face and hear her words of encouragement as I stumble past.  Also many of my family members have been involved with the race in some form, running, sweeping or for some of them many years at aid station 2.  This race has many different meanings for me, being able to mingle with all the runners and pick up bits and pieces of info that might help later races, proving one’s self on a difficult course, the comradery of all the trail runners, getting to see old friends and make new ones and also just being out in such a beautiful area.

I really enjoy the meeting/dinner on Friday night with family, friends and seeing all the new faces, many doing their first Highland and some doing their first Ultra, watching the excitement, determination and anticipation on the faces as Dan is doing his speech. The excitement at the start line on Saturday morning is very electrifying. Kelley, my wife always likes to see who is running out of the porta-potties when the race starts!

This being my 10^th year, I wanted to run a sub 8hr race, which I have only managed to do in 2009, the year of the monsoon! This was also the first time in 2 or 3 years that I wasn’t dealing with plantar fasciitis, so I felt the stars were in alignment. I started the race well, keeping a good pace through the first section of elevation gains, water, mud and rocks. Then finally the 10 foot bridges and I even managed to do somewhat well on the road across the sky.  I ended up at aid station 6 still with plenty of time to be well under 8 hrs. Knowing the rest of the course was easier than the previous 27 miles, (I forgot about the mud and rocks on the Raven Ridge section), I felt pretty good about being able to make it under 8 hrs. But then the running trolls got me, I begin falling apart; things going on that usually don’t happen to me much, stomach problems, leg cramps and just generally feeling downright nasty! I was wondering what was going on, as I forced myself to continue moving, watching the minutes tick away. I was trying everything to get back in the game, eating ginger candy, trying to hydrate more, trying to eat something, but nothing seemed to help.  By the time I was coming down the ski slope and almost on Freeland Road I was still feeling lousy, but felt I could possibly still make it under 8 hrs, but realized shortly that I wasn’t going to make my goal.  As Canaan came into view, knowing the end was near, made me start picking up pace a little and feeling a bit better. Finally the finish line was in sight, all the clapping, cheering, yelling and Dan’s smiling face and suddenly I felt great again!

In retrospect after a couple of days of pondering on why I fell apart in the last several miles of the race , it finally hit me, I made so many mistakes, from how I trained this year to how I took care of myself throughout the race. Mistakes that I made 11 or 12 years ago when I was first attempting to become a trail runner. I am still trying to become one! Anyhow with an 8:14:52 and more important a finish, number 10 in a row, there is always next year to try for under 8hr and maybe if I listen to all the advice, become smarter and train harder, chase my Brother Bill thru the woods a little more.  Who knows, I may even give him a race for his money!

P.S.   Dan,  forget what I said to you when I crossed the finish line about wanting to work an aid station next year………I’m gonna run again!

Highlands Sky 40.

Ascents, descents, creek crossings.

Mud, rocks, running.  Done.

The longer version is:

Months prior to toeing the line I had this re-occurring lower abdomen pain that was difficult for the doctors to diagnose.  (With a cancer diagnosis in my history, they were a little concerned.)  One morning’s run was so painful, that I contacted the race director and pulled out of the race.  After the pain subsided, I re-contacted him, and said I would at least try to make it to aid station four.  It was finally diagnosed as an inguinal hernia, and I await my very busy surgeon to have an opening.  To date I have not had some serious injury or health issue weeks prior to a race, so I knew to trust the grace of God to help me no matter how bad I felt.  One day, I proclaim and confess that this side of heaven I will run an ultra without a hernia, flu, viral syndrome, degenerative hip, cancer, Achilles tendonitis, plantar fasciitis, migraine headaches,  rotator cuff syndrome, bunions, capsulitus, etc., etc.

To add to the moment, my wife invites our middle granddaughter to join us, and a plan is made.  She is seven and is a natural runner, and has already completed a 5k so I knew she could handle the start to the first aid station if Dan would approve.  He did, and so grand dad and granddaughter on Father’s day Saturday started together.  By God’s divine timing, we just ‘happened’ to sit at a table that the aid station workers for #1 were sitting.  Amanda and Tom met my granddaughter and with their permission, they agreed to watch her until my wife arrived. There wasn’t a need as my wife was right behind us in the car, but it was nice to know she would stay with someone she knew if needed. This would put me in last place at the first aid station, but I didn’t really care.  Soon after the aid station, I met the first of many who would be having equipment malfunction due to the very wet, muddy bogs.  I read in another report that one person lost her shoe in a bog and the water was so deep, she never found it.  She had to go seven miles without a shoe.

Starting slow has its benefits.  I was able to pass a few people, and that gave me a little boost of morale.  My hernia was behaving and I felt decent and after the ascent from aid station one to the top the rocky filled and water filled bogs were fairly easy to navigate and led a few people through them at a decent pace.  I was afraid to look behind so I introduced myself and a nice sounding lady named Catherine was behind me and we ran well together through this section.   Leaving aid station two with 20 minutes to spare my hernia starting hurting, and this portion was painful.  When possible I tucked my hand between the strap on my waist pack and the hernia to hold it in place and push it back in.  This affected my coordination and balance on the pretty steep descents on this portion.  I finally found a rhythm and started running and led a pack of four talkative young ladies down and down.  I turned to see who it was near the bottom and nearly fell.  I let them pass as the ascent began, and now the hernia was combined with some serious stomach gas.  I have never prayed for a fart or poop, but I was doing some serious praying for one or the other.  The scenery and setting was absolutely the prettiest portions and I soaked in the beauty of the forest and the sound of the overflowing creeks to soak in some peace.  I remembered praying about some stressful issues from living in Washington D.C. and I got a strong sense to “don’t bring that stuff here.  Enjoy this moment and listen and see what is all around you.” The creek crossings were helped by the volunteers who put up ropes.  Even with the ropes, the crossing prior to aid station three was treacherous for me.  I almost fell in many times.  The rocks were slippery, so I slogged through thigh deep water, and still almost fell.  Leaving aid station three there was a notice that this was bobcat country.  If that is so, the bobcats must love steep grades.  Wow, is all I can say.  Eventually the top came, and then it was more creeks that once were a trail.  Holding my hernia and navigating the rocks was tricky and I eventually gave up running and walked most of this section.  I was glad to finally get to the bridges and then to the road.  I had pre-planned to stop at aid station four.  Running uphill on the road didn’t hurt the hernia as bad as the descents so I was able to finish fairly strong.  My wife and grand daughter were set up a half a mile from the aid station, and were surprised by my granddaughter who had gathered a handful of yellow flowers and jumped out from hiding and showered me with her bouquet.  I jogged into the aid station, and let them know I was done, and I was thankful to the Lord that the hernia, though painful wasn’t strangling an intestine or something even more serious.

I appreciated so many things about this race.  Dan Lehman, being the main reason.  He has gathered an incredible group of volunteers who were knowledgeable and helpful at each aid station.  His pre-race dinner was so filled with give a ways; most people that won got product that were equal to their race entry.  (Except the two who won a copy of my books.)  I appreciate the grace of God and the cool weather. I am also appreciative of the fellow back of the packer’s.  We all have a story and though we all dream of running with the lead pack are just glad to be alive and moving.  I am still undecided but for now I think I would rather have cold and wet, than hot and dry.  It was like running through creeks for ¾ of the first half of the race, but it was better than burning up from the heat.  Thanks be to God and everyone who made this race a reality, even though it was only half a reality for me.

Craig Burns