Highlands Sky 2010

40 Miles of Wild, Wet and Wrocky WV

I was nervous the days leading up to this year’s race but having one under my belt eased the anxiety that I felt last year.  I’d been looking forward to the start of this race since I crossed the finish line last year and counted down the days.  It was in the low 60s to start and the forecast was for a warm day.  Because of our camp being just a few feet from the starting line I have the luxury of laying in bed until 5:00 when most runners are getting on the bus to head to the start.  My appreciation for this race goes beyond the respect for the distance, the beauty of the terrain or for the strength and will you find in the runners, to a family heritage started many years ago with my Grandaddy.  I’ll spare you the details that can be found in last year’s report at www.wvruncoach.com/race-reports/.

The start came quickly when Dan yelled something like, “Now get going” and it was off.  On the road to Flatrock I was asked what kind of time I was shooting for and all I could say was “a good time.” But really I had three goals. First, to take 15-20 minutes off of last year’s time, 2) to survive the first half so I could run the 2^nd without misery and 3) have a negative split in the second half.

Flatrock  was dry but covered with nettles. My legs stung more than I remembered on any other time running up Flatrock.  The nettles are a nasty little curse and if you don’t know what a nettle is check it out here:  http://www.wisegeek.com/what-is-a-stinging-nettle.htm .  Flatrock is about 5 miles to the top and it’s all uphill. I set a reasonable pace keeping my heart rate low and walking where I needed too.  I took my first check about mile 7 and found that my legs were already a little heavy which was concerning.  I downed a gel and worked across Roaring Plains and the rocky trail stumbling and bumbling with my heavy legs.  I arrived at aid station 2 already 10 minutes ahead of last year and in the back of my mind wondering if I could hold it or if I was setting myself up for a big fat bonk somewhere down the trail.  Aid 2 was manned by the Young’s so they took special care of one of their own and got me out quickly.

The day was going to be hot so I drank consistently and ate frequently to keep everything in balance as best I could.

After an uneventful trip down Boars Nest it was another climb back up South Prong but the last major climb.  I realized I was further ahead of schedule than I wanted to be so I took it easy up the trail to try and save some legs and keep my heart rate low.  At Aid 3 I asked how many runners had come through, which isn’t typical for me, but I was curious.  78 runners had already passed. Wow, I finished exactly 78^th last year. Interesting. I was kind of surprised because I was about 20 minutes ahead of schedule and in the exact same spot that I finished before. But, last year I passed runners in the 2^nd half so if I could stick with my plan maybe the same would happen.

I like the 10 bridges section and count them off as I run cross them. It was good to hit the road again knowing that Aid 4 and the half way point was only 1 mile away. My dad was waiting to see me and it was good to see him.  He ran along side me and asked how I was feeling and all I could say was OK.   Then he asked, “how do you feel compared to this time last year.” Good question.  And I think I said, worse.  In the back of my mind I was a little worried that I my legs wouldn’t hold up. For the past 13 miles I’d been praying for the strength to outrun a chariot just like Elijah (I Kings 18:46).  It was starting to work.

I arrived in at aid 4 in 4:35 and 25 minutes ahead of last year.  So I was a little encouraged but only a little.  I was also a little worried.  My dad and I made our way to the drop bags, I filled by hydration pack, refilled my food and opted not to change my shoes and socks.  I didn’t realize then the difference keeping my first pair of shoes would make.  I also didn’t want to disturb the dirt and grit that had settled in my socks that might later cause me blisters.

It was getting  hot now with the sun coming up high in the sky.  I soaked my bandana and tied it around my neck and hit the road.  The road across the sky gets mixed reviews but I like it. It’s 7 miles of forest road that you can run so I settled in to a rhythm and ran along. It was uneventful for me and I felt my legs come back and covered the 7 miles in about 1:15.  Aid 6 at mile 27 was manned by my friends Michael and Dolin and they got me loaded back up with water and a few gels, snapped a few pictures and I was back on the trail from Bear Rocks.

I like to break this event down in sections.  I believe the training and physical preparation leading up to the race carries your body this far, about 27 miles.   But leaving Aid 6 with 27 miles down and 14 to go the body is tired and your heart and mind have to take over.  A race like this tests your mind and your heart even more than you body.

The last 14 miles tends to spread the runners out and I was alone for big blocks of time.  But I was passing someone every now and again and I wasn’t being passed.  Kind of like last year.  I was rolling on the flats and downhills but slowed on the uphills. Still, my legs felt good now for being this far in to the course.  At this point my strategy was run where I can, walk when I have too.  But I was running more than I expected.  It was really hot now and the sun was beating down. In the plains there’s very little shade and there was no cloud cover. There might have been a breeze but I didn’t sense it.  Aid 7 at about mile 32.5 seemed to take forever to get there. The boulders came and went but I like the boulders too.  I think it’s the change and the mental diversion.

I was in and out of Aid 7 pretty quick and again, the aid workers were great.  It was back to the trail and on to Timberline where there was a change in the course eliminating the butt slide and sending us up one side of a ski slope and back down the other.  It was brutal.  After 30 some miles slogging up a ski slope was bad enough. But the worst part was running down the other side. It was lose dirt and some small rocks and steep enough that your quads took a pounding but you also had to hold yourself back causing more strain on my legs.  That downhill was over a mile but felt much longer.  But it was downhill and I could keep my heart rate low and my feet just rolling over.

The stomach cramps started about here. I changed my breathing rhythm, pushed out, held it in, pulled on my sides, bent all the way over, stretched out tall.  I did just about everything but they wouldn’t go away. I lived with them for the last 7-8 miles, not much else to do.

Aid station 8 was my favorite. Not only was I just a little over 4 miles from the finish but an angel of a volunteer covered me with a cold wet towel. She wiped down my neck and arms and squeezed it over my head with drenching ice cold water. Man-oh- man did it feel good.  I’m not sure who it was but if you by chance read this, thank you.

I found it very hard to run now but I realized that I had about 48 minutes to cover the final 4.2 if I wanted to break 9 hours.  So I ran. Or more like a shuffle but it was a running motion.  I hit the park still moving along and looked for my wife and daughter who might be waiting for me at the park entrance.  I’d been waiting all day to see them.   I told her I wouldn’t be there before 3:00 and I think it was about 2:35.  After a short time here came Ann Marie and I waved and got a little choked up. Both of my sides were cramping bad now.  I ran bent over at the waist and changed my breathing again to try to break up the cramps and it helped a little but the cramps still wouldn’t go away.

I hit the last trail section and caught the last runner to pass me.  I knew I had a little cushion so we walked together for the last part. I came up the last hill and could see my dad with my daughter, Caroline.  She was holding a poster  for me, “I love you Daddy.” Those of you that know me well won’t be surprised to hear that I teared up.  We ran hand in hand for a few steps but I didn’t trust my legs not to collapse and drag her down with me so my dad took her and I went on down the hill to the finish.  At the finish I could see Ann Marie, my mom, JG on crutches, and Wendy. And of course, Dan, taking pictures and smiling as he does for everyone that crosses the finish line of his race. I went back and got Caroline and we crossed the finish again together.  Dan snapped a picture that will be one of my favorites of all time (see below).

It was done and I finished with 27  seconds to spare to break 9 hours and 48 minutes better than last year.  I’m glad I didn’t change my shoes.

By the numbers.  Average pace was 13:10 for 40.96 miles including stops at aid stations (moving pace was 12:25). Elevation gain 5877. Elevation loss  5141.  Best mile, mile 1 in 8:00.  Slowest mile, mile 16 in 19:10 up South Prong and Aid station 3 (the ski slope was 3^rd slowest in 17:10).  Avg heart rate was 78% of max and I burned 4,913 calories.  First half split was 4:35 and second half was just under 4:25.

I’m thankful for another finish, a great day and a healthy body. I’m thankful for the Lord’s strength to finish and for my family’s support.  Thanks to Dan and all of the volunteers that work hard so the rest of us  can have a great race.  Checkout the other race reports at the Highlands Sky Website. If you read them all you’ll get a view from the front with the winner, Eric Grossman, and a view from field from the others but they are all great reads with different perspectives.

There’s also a good recap on from Daniel Todd who also took some amazing pictures.

You have a lot of time for your mind to wander in an event like this and there are many scenes to take in over 40 miles.  As we worked our way over the course and went from mountain streams, hardwood forest, Canadian like tundra, and open grassy plains I remained awe struck by the beauty of God’s creation.  And there’s a hymn that ran through my mind over and over that tells the story:

I Sing the Mighty Power of God….Lord, how thy wonders are displayed,
where’er I turn my eye,
if I survey the ground I tread,
or gaze upon the sky!

See you next year-

Race report for the Highlands Sky 40 Mile Trail Run

June 28^th 2010

Last week I ran my first ultra!  Why? I am not sure I have the answer but I am glad I did it.  Last year when I turned 40 I figured I should try an ultra marathon before my wife.  Yes we are “competitive healthy.”  Meaning we support each other in our adventures but are looking to see what we can do to get one up on one another.  My wife was a professional fitness competitor and once she retired from fitness she jumped into triathlons and within a year she had her first ironman under her belt.  I figured the only chance I had to “beat” her was to do an ultra.  Plus for my 40^th birthday, why not? 

To prepare mentally for this race I needed something to help me if and when I had trouble training or even during the race.   After much research, I decided to raise money for the Pat Tillman Foundation.  Currently, I have raised over $1,300 for them in less than 4 weeks.  So running for Pat and for those who have donated to my cause helped keep me where I need to be with training and “racing.” 

I enjoy a challenge and I got that from the entire race.  This race is two races: the 1^st 20 miles and the 2^nd 20 miles.  They are amazingly different.    

The 1^st 20 miles was more to my liking and fit my running personality.   After reading race reports from last year’s race, I had a great respect for all those who raced survived last year.  Also I believe race director Dan paid the 1^st few runners to just blaze a trail that is close to 40 miles because there were parts of this 20 mile which had no resemblance of a trail.  I am still looking into this possible theory…  That being said, time flew by for me since most of my time was really concentrating on the trail.   I met some really nice runners who welcomed me to West Virginia and were glad I was there. (Gary K., Jim H. and Garth G.)   Thanks to them for the positive encouragement.

The 2^nd 20 miles, wow!  Being a bigger runner, heat and sun are two things I try to avoid when signing up for races.  That was not the case today.  The sun was out and it was hot.  However,  a nice breeze helped.  To make things interesting, the 2^nd 20 miles is open and had very little shade.  This was the major difference between the 1^st part and the 2^nd.  So, after a change of shirt and socks I was off down the road which kept going and going and going.  I did stay up on my salt and nutrition so no major issues there.  I do remember someone howling as I approached aid station #7.  I figured it was close, no, not really.  I think it was about 15 minutes from when I first heard it to when I walked into AS #7.  The man with the clip board took my number, put his arm around me and walked with me encouraging me and giving me the scouting report of what was next.  I had flashbacks of my football coach doing the same thing before sending me in with a play.  This pumped me up more than any PBJ sandwich or gel would ever do.  Thank you goes to whoever that was!

I got to Timberline Ski Resort and had no issue with going up the mountain (called Upper Salamander).  Then we ran down the mountain which seemed like a DOUBLE BLACK DIAMOND.  However, it was only a blue, for you skiers, but it sure felt like a double black diamond.  If the body had not already had enough abuse from RD Dan, he decided to throw this at us.  Once down the ski mountain it took me a while to get the feeling back in my lower extremities.  I got some help when I saw a “friend” in regards of a draft horse that was on the trail.  I race Clydesdale (weight base) so when I saw my big friend with his head down and moving forward, I just made up my mind that I would do the same. 

The final aid station to the finish was the war of attrition.  Here you see runners who are making deals with themselves.  You don’t actually hear it, but you see it on each of their faces.  “Just get me to that tree.”  “Hang on, for a few more miles.”   In the same respect you also see a lot of encouraging.  “Keep it up, we are almost there.”  “Run with me to the shade.”   As I turned into the resort I was not sure how many miles I had left because my watch had died right before Timberline.  As I headed into the final trail section I caught up with a runner and he was going to let me pass and I told him, “Dude, I have had 9 hours to catch you, I am not going to pass you in the last 30 sec.”  And for me, that is how I can summarize my race.  I was out to have fun with my fellow athlete, (I would not call myself an ultra-runner yet).  Sure it is nice to have a good finishing time, but for me and my first ultra, hey it’s a “PR” anyway you look at it, right?   

Suggestions for first time runners of the Highlands Sky 40 miler:

1. Don’t worry about the nettles; they don’t differentiate between the 1^st timer and the veterans.  They only sting for a little bit. 
2. Change socks and shoes at halfway point.  
3. Bottles or backpack?  I think RD Dan gave the best advice, use what is comfortable for you. 
4. Stay up on nutrition.
5. Have fun and enjoy it.  Make friends and keep moving forward.

The calculus that went into my choosing the Highland Sky as my first ultra marathon was fairly simple. First, I decided it would be neat to celebrate my 40^th year on earth by running 40 miles. This would, I reckoned, create a memory that was sure to last for at least the next 40 years. Next, I googled “40 mile runs” and amongst the top five was the Highland Sky. Discovering that the course traversed the unique and beautiful Dolly Sods area in Canaan Valley, WV, a place I have enjoyed visiting for skiing and mountain biking, just sealed the deal. Simple as that.

I didn’t give the choice much more thought until at the pre-race meeting race director Dan asked the 17 first timers to stand and be recognized.  Hmm. The rousing applause that followed seemed genuine, but left me with that odd feeling that I was missing something. You know, like when you were taken on your first Snipe hunt.  Oh well, too late to back out now. Then the fellow across the table said with a perfectly straight face  “you will see things you have never seen before tomorrow.” What lions, tigers and bears, oh my. Come on.

Race morning dawned quiet and still and fairly cool too. But you could tell it wasn’t going to stay that way. Lot’s of excitement in the air at the start, and we were off at 6AM sharp. After a quick stretch on the road and a rather prolonged brush with the dreaded stinging nettle we were climbing. Then came the mud… the kind of mud that will suck your shoe right off. (Imagine those mud racing trucks that attempt to hydroplane across a pit of mud a 100 yards long) After the 17^th mud pit, I began to emulate this approach as I tried to lightly scamper across without sinking. Results may vary. Then all of the sudden we pop out on seemingly the top of the world (which I have since come to know as the Roaring Plains). The trail here is twisty and fun as it is still cool with a slight breeze and the scenery is spectacular.  As we leave this area there is a postcard view looking west at the valley – but it only lasts a second before we are going down and down fast back into the trees. This only means one thing… that another climb awaits, and indeed it is a dozy but it leads to aid 3, a welcome relief. Leaving the station we encounter another fun section with pine straw covered sections and the bridges that lead towards FS19.

I reach aid 4 seemingly in decent shape and well ahead of the cut off time. I get a fresh hat, water, food and some inspiration from my wife and set off on the road to the sky. Previously, I was looking forward to this section as one that would be more runable, since it was in fact a road and didn’t have rocks, roots and mud to distract. Boy was I wrong. Suddenly, I felt like a tiny buoy bobbing in a sea of endless waves as I trudged up and down the hills. Oh, and someone turned up the heat big time. This is where the walk/run games began. Walk to the shady spot…run until the gravel changes color…walk right out of this bad dream – no that rock in my shoe is real and this is no dream. Aid five helps but not much. I convince myself at this point that WV miles are somehow longer than the traditional US nautical miles I am accustomed too.  Yes that must be it.

I finally crest the last wave, I mean hill and make it to aid 6 with something like 50 minutes until the final cut off. This is good. I spy a chair and convince myself that I will sit for just a minute in the shade of the tent and rest. This is heavenly. While sitting there I realize that two others are laid up under the tent and not looking good. Hmm… that is not good. They have checked out and will go no farther.  I grab some more water and head out across Dolly Sods. Shortly, I encounter “the sign,” you know the one that says “Welcome to Dolly Sods, unexploded ordinance exists in this area, do not touch.” Well, gee that’s just what I need another obstacle. Speaking of obstacles, I next come across these fields of rocks and the trail as it were, marked with its lovely orange ribbons and flags, goes right through the middle of it. Go figure. At this point it does not surprise me.

This section nearly breaks me. I stumble and trip my way through and mostly walk. A stream appears out of nowhere and I immediately dip my entire head in to cool off. This provides but a momentary respite. I feel sick. It’s really hot and there is little shade. I see a bear print. Great I hope he found the ordnance before me! I actually sit down on the trial twice. I make up a silly song about how stupid ultra marathoning is, and repeat it a dozen times. I encounter someone who appears to be affiliated with the race and he says “just a quarter mile to the aid station.” Hmm… really. In what feels like 15 minutes later, I make it to aid 7.

It is quickly apparent that my feeling like crap is evident to everyone as I stumble into the tent and immediately lay down. I knew it was bad when I got the questions – do you know where you are? What is your name? We decided I should cool off and wait a bit. I did not disagree. An SCap, water (No more Heed!) and some chips. A cool rag and a makeshift pillow all helped. People came and went, some stayed a bit with me. Someone broke wind. I didn’t care. Another SCap and more water. I heard reports of DNFs and was quite certain that they had penciled me in this category too. These guys were very accommodating; I could learn to like this. Someone asked if I needed anything else – I answered “how about a taxi?” Laughs all around. Somewhere during this 20 minute layover atop Dolly Sods, I made a decision, a difficult, soul searching, gut check of a decision. I was going to finish.

There was no quit in #63 on this day. I was going to finish.

Before leaving aid 7, a guy with a clip board described the final 8 miles that lay ahead –  gentle down hill, easy upslope, gravel road, paved road to the finish. Piece of cake. I think he must sell something for a living.  I left with a renewed spirit and true second wind. I ran until that “easy upslope.” Right. Upon every encounter (there weren’t many at this point) I said cheerfully “we are going to finish” if for no other reason than to remind myself. I even stopped and chatted with a couple enjoying the view from atop the ski slope. They asked where I was going – I pointed west across the valley towards the lodge. They said “that seems like a long way.” I responded “you have no idea.” As I departed, I told them I was going to finish, #63 was going to finish.

As I entered the park the civil war re-enactors were commencing their skirmish with a volley of gun fire.  I thought maybe a 40 gun salute would be appropriate. I was going to finish. The parade of cars leaving the resort provided inspiration with continuous cheers and honks as I left the road and headed up the final trail to the finish.

Someone said runner up and cheers erupted from the group. Race director Dan was waiting. I hugged him and told him to tell the guys at aid 7 that #63 had finished.

I got what I came for – a lasting memory and a whole lot more.  In passing a colleague remarked “and you had to pay an entry fee for that?” to which I replied, “yes I did, and it was worth every penny of it.”

I also know why people come back to the Highland Sky. I might be back…