Laurel Highlands

After 14 hours and 15 minutes; 11,010 feet of elevation gain; 9900 calories burned; and 14 liters of water consumed, I crossed the line to finish the Laurel Highlands 70.5 mile trail run.

In the late 70’s a few friends challenged each other to see if they could run the trail, which starts at Ohiopyle, Pa (also famous for Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater) to its end, just outside of Johnstown, before dark.  No one made it, but in subsequent years it became established as one of the oldest trail races in the country. It traverses the entire length of the Laurel Ridge, and is marked with concrete pylons at each mile.

As both an avid hiker and runner, the race had immediate appeal, but at 70 miles it seemed in another league from what I was prepared for.  Then last fall I let the notion of doing the race get closer to reality and shared this with my frequent training partner Chris, who also got on board.  Being an old race, and also "old school”, it is not an Ultrasignup, sold out in a few minutes kind of race.  One mails a paper application and personal check and hopes to get a spot.  Your canceled check is the only acknowledgement that you are indeed a part of the 130 entrants.  By mid-December we started to plan for June 13, 2015.

A somewhat serious mid-winter Achilles injury limited my training to 17 weeks and it started with a 15 min run on a treadmill (!) and lots of cross training.  At some point in April I did a legit long run, and after that Chris and I started weekly 1/2 mile long hill repeat sessions up Rex Avenue. It was close, but by June 1 we declared ourselves ready.  In longer races, some ultra runners enlist a crew to help them on race day - and we were lucky enough assemble one too.   Our crew: Bob, a race veteran and master of the pace calculator (see below); Barb, Chris's wife, also a seasoned runner, and our accommodations manager; my daughter Ceci; and the team dog, Scout.

All but Ceci arrived in southwestern Pa the night before and attended the pre-race briefing and dinner.  We were very happy to not be catching the 3:30 AM bus from Johnstown to the start!  Instead we slept in :), and our driver Bob had us to Ohiopyle at 5:00 AM.  Chris was mortified that a serious runner would race with a cell phone, but I wanted to be able to take some pics, and was also tracking Ceci as she made the 5 hour drive west to meet me at mile 46.  Also, I was still not super confident about a 70 mile challenge and thought the phone might keep things more casual.  

The fist 9 miles of the course features over 3k of climbing, so I adopted "it's a long day" approach, while Chris wanted a slightly faster early pace.  Bob's race calculator predicted us to reach mile 40 at the same time.  Somewhere around mile 8(?) was the last I saw Chris before the finish! The climbing lived up to expectations, and the conditions were rain forest like, but with temps in the 70s(?) - not bad on paper, but it was suffocating without a breeze stirring. I hit the 11.6 mile aid station on time at 7:52 AM and in good spirits. Bob reported Chris a few minutes ahead. The next 10 miles were rolling and I picked up the pace at hit the 19.3 mile aid station at 9:20 AM.  The aid station routine was smooth and pro - Bob expertly inserted a spare bladder into my pack and handed me a new packet of gels, salt tabs etc....He also had a pack with spare clothes and a change of shoes.

I had opted for a fairly light weight shoe - but the trail was  proving to be rockier (and more slippery) than anticipated and my ankles and feet were starting to hurt. The temps stayed coolish and we had a long section of running literally in a cloud bank - it was surreal and wonderful. I took my first of 2 hard falls during the section - a stubbed big toe and skinned arm being the only consequences. At the 28 mile aid station I upgraded to a heavier shoe (Mizuno Kazans)- and was still feeling good.  Bob said Chris was now 4-5 mins ahead.

Soon after, the sun came out and the heat index skyrocketed.  With the cool temps I may not have taken enough water and my pace was slowing by the time we crossed Rt 31 (mile 32). I had a headache and by the mile 39 stop I was 20 mins off my projected pace.  I was forcing fluids, salt and gels and starting to feel better,  then shortly after the aid station, I had the good fortune to be caught by Maggie.  It is an ultra ritual to form brief friendships with total strangers.  I knew Ceci was meeting me at mile 46, but feared I would be staggering by then.  Instead Maggie, a military intelligence analyst and mom, and I traded the pacing and life histories, as my head ache subsided and our pace increased.  I managed only to lose another 5 mins during that stretch- a pretty section of trail that frequently threaded through huge moss covered rock outcroppings.  

Barb had said earlier, it would be whole new race once I met Ceci, and seeing the trio of Barb, Ceci and Scout at 46.4 was huge.  Bob was off pacing Chris, but now I had my own helper.  We took our time at the station - I ate a mini turkey sandwich and some watermelon and we noted from the leader board that I was in 12th, with Chris in 9th.  The last big hills occur between 46 and 52, and I did my best to power hike up and run the flats.  I predicted that the key to Laurel was getting to mile 52 with something left - and I felt decent and ready to roll the last 18.  Ceci noted that the guy in 11th was drinking a beer at the rest stop, and we agreed that we should be able to get this guy, and in a old burn area with ferns lining the trail we came upon his pacer taking photos!  About a quarter mile later we catch Mr Miller Time and cordially pass on by. 

The joy of the catch did not last long, as on a nearly flat section of trail i tripped again - this time smashing the other big toe and coming down hard on my left hip and knee.  I rolled in pain, but the key parts all seemed functional, and we then managed some of the fastest miles of the day.  The pace was paying off as we eyed the 10th and 9th place runners ahead, and aggressively ran past them.  They shouted "were we relay runners?" (there is also a concurrent 5 man relay race) and Ceci shouted back "sorry, no".  At the mile 57 aid station a volunteer pointed out the blood streaming from my knee and cleaned me up while another guy patiently asked me what i wanted to eat - "grilled cheese?" - I settled for a can of Coke and mini Hershey's bars.  My stomach had not felt great for a while and the Coke helped.  

We were rolling again with many easy descents, but I was tiring - I kept thinking I would catch Chris anytime but 9th was where I would stay.  The only section of non-single track comes before the final aid station at Gas Line Road (mile 62) - about a mile of dirt road that rose slightly and seemed to never end.  The skies were getting darker and the humidity, impossibly, even higher.  Ceci cajoled me about the slow pace, but I was done racing and just wanted it over.  I had hoped to gain time here, as It was steeply down, but being rocky and slippery I was wary of falling again.  

With 3 miles to go you can hear the train switching yards in Johnstown below and then enter a delightful rhododendron thicket that arches completely overhead.  We were tempted to use the headlamp, but just took a bit more care.  Mercifully, the only mile on the course that is short is the last one, only .6! and it was a joyful thing to see the "69" obelisk.  It was nearly dark and we heard thunder and smelled rain, as we passed the park entrance sign and saw the glow of the finishing tent beyond!

Fitting the style of the race there was no digital clock or inspiring music, just a scorers table and guy checking  race numbers - that was it! It was 7:45 PM, 14 hrs and 15 minutes after the start. Ceci and I hugged and high 5'd, and then noticed Chris sprawled on a towel nearby.  He had been done for 25 mins and had finished in 6th place!  A few minutes later the skies opened in a downpour - the shower was refreshing, and the post-race chili tasted surprisingly good.

We joined up with the rest of the crew and took up the final challenge of the day - fitting all of us, plus gear, in Barb's Subaru - it was steamy (the nicest way to put it) but we fit and started to relive the day a bit at a time.

Laurel is a stunningly beautiful course, and being point to point is unusual (like Boston) and special. The small town, woodsy vibe is great, and the organizers and volunteers are clearly old hands. It was a brutal weather day, and it took its toll with only 2/3 of the starters finishing. I was the 3rd oldest finisher, so top 10 should have felt good, and generally I was pleased.  I loved the crew and my pacer - thank you!  It also affirmed part of what is so appealing to me about ultras - their unpredictability, and fighting through tough spots. It was also vindication of a training and race day plan well executed, and while not a 100 miler, I feel like I truly belong in the ultra marathoner club now.   Thanks for reading and all your support!!