tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70576938848329273182024-03-05T03:05:46.789-05:00Seeking The Next AdventureJeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-61551652013971584012017-06-11T14:56:00.000-04:002017-06-11T15:00:45.412-04:00Lancaster To Mt Pocono<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">
<b style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">VAN 2</b></div>
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<b style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitK_UfmPMvxoZa7SgeAGGC_0WvqWWWoVx5dk2dzY3f-KoZXzJi9izudeA_QBOKaJc8t-PGY8DRZ33nZeio5nSR3zj7ut0wHqh2AgaR8O3iC5A0auO9QbtJC_Vz2w6866xhrBd2VRsRbyG_/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitK_UfmPMvxoZa7SgeAGGC_0WvqWWWoVx5dk2dzY3f-KoZXzJi9izudeA_QBOKaJc8t-PGY8DRZ33nZeio5nSR3zj7ut0wHqh2AgaR8O3iC5A0auO9QbtJC_Vz2w6866xhrBd2VRsRbyG_/s320/IMG_0034.JPG" width="320" /></a></b></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">For a little over 25 hours on Friday June 2, and Saturday June 3, the 12 members of Team Get the Hill out of the Way traversed 204 miles from the rich Amish farmland of Lancaster County to the steep slopes of the Poconos.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The Ragnar phenomenon had more or less escaped my attention until I got a text in the early spring from my friend Lenore seeking “fast guys” for a relay her friend Diana was putting together. My racing schedule was already getting a little full, but I liked the relay concept and that the end point would not be far from our cottage in Buck Hill Falls, so after a verbal commitment from daughter Maddy, I said “I’m in”.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><b>THE RAGNAR ROADIE</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">A little back background on the Ragnar format: teams consist of 12 or 6 runners who take turns running 3 - 10 mile segments of a 200 mile +/- point to point course.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Our particular unit was mixed gender 30+ or “submasters” division.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>The women were required to run a minimum of 50% of the legs.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sounds simple enough, but add to the mix the fact that the 12 runners are then divided into 2 vans which alternate every six legs navigating from exchange zone to exchange zone and it starts to get tricky.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Equipped with an awesome set of maps and an equally good phone app we had the tools to keep it all straight.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>However, before we even started our problems began, John C, who was supposed to do yeoman’s duty for Van 2 developed a foot injury the week before the race so was switched to Van 1, and Mary, had already scratched her first 2 legs due to her son’s middle school graduation. Rather than replace her, Shannon and Diana each added 1 of Mary’s to their set.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Positions were being shuffled up nearly to race time, not a recipe for smooth going for a machine with 12 moving parts. But so be it - it was George, Shannon, David, John C, Kristen, and Mary (on Saturday) in Van 1 and Maddy, Jeff, John G, Diana, Marie and Xander in Van 2.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>After a quick breakfast at Di’s house we hurried to Stauffer Park in Lancaster for the start.</span></div>
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<b style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">LADY DI AND THE HIGHLANDER</b></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">A little bit more on Captain Diana - she is a veteran of more than 12 Ragnar events, from W Virginia to So Cal. Most of Van 1 were also experienced Ragnarians as well. This Ragnar experience, was a little like being part of cult following of a rock band or soccer fan club - a funny little subculture that you never new existed.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>A clever often slightly risqué team name being a starting point.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Of course you have to have matching shirts!<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>And oh, the van decoration.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>And the “kill count’ and the “tagging” of other vans.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>All was revealed when we rolled into Stauffer Park in the Highlander.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Highlander?<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>No, not a small RV - a Toyota Highlander aka Van 2.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Lady Di persisted in calling it a mini-van, but the cold hard truth was, it’s not even a particularly big<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>SUV.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>6 people, cooler, water jug, food, gear for 6 people, sleeping bags, folding chairs….With masterful packing and a large roof top carrier we fit it in, with a little room left for the humans.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Maddy highjacked the blue tooth audio system and supplied us with road music that would ebb and flow for the next 25 hours.</span></div>
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<b style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554719" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">12 NOON</span></span> START</b></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The start area was strangely quiet, and I was starting to wonder where the competition was, but when we looked up our team number, the poster resembled a page from a funny phone book - 280 teams!</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">However all but 6 of them had already started the race leaving as early as</span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554720" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204 , 204 , 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">5:30 AM</span></span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">This would be an important dynamic as the race unfolded, and critical to the kill count. The Ragnar supplied pace calculator handicapped the teams to allow more to finish together in Mt Pocono. After a safety briefing a gear check w walked to the line where Shannon took the first leg of 3.7 miles. Van 2 Yelp searched the best Deli in Lancaster and shot off to The Flying Pig Deli for a last bite of real food before racing. That part of Lancaster which includes Lancaster Brewing Company had a notably hip urban feeling to it that would soon give way to the strange mix of sprawl and Amish that typify the seeming endless edges of Lancaster, and also the first 12 stages of the race. Tech consultant Maddy also set up a group text that would be our primary means for communicating w Van 1.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We became concerned when after 30 minutes there was no word of Jon taking off on leg 2 - apparently the last minute line up changes had not made it to Shannon, and breakfast just before the warm start did not sit well and led to a 45 min first leg.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We had barely started and were already 17 mins behind our calculator! Fortunately Jon C ripped 6 min miles for his 8.4 mile 2nd leg and we were back in the mix.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><b>WIND, SUN AND LANCASTER COUNTY</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Fortified with deli fare we sped to Exchange 6 to pick up our race numbers then back to 5 where Lady Di was subbing for Mary and taking the stick (a bracelet actually) from George.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>The day had turned sun-splashed and quite windy and we finally escaped the drecky sprawl of Lancaster and got into some pretty countryside. Getting restless, I decided to jog to the bottom of the hill that led to the exchange and got there just in time to see someone coming fast but turning the wrong way.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>I had seen George at breakfast but this guy was a pretty far away , but I guessed and yelled “George!!”, he turned, and then “this waayyy!!” Fortunately the wind carried my voice and we averted catastrophe on Leg 5!<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Di steamed a mostly downhill leg, passed to Kris, and then it was back in the Highlander to get Marie to #6. A note on Marie - Marie was Maddy’s XC captain at Oberlin College and the two had recently reconnected just in time for Marie and husband Xander to fill the last 2 spots on the roster. The Brooklynites joined the Van 1 contingent who came from Maine, New Mexico, and xxx as the non-Phila members of the team. Most legs allowed the vans to follow (but not pace) their runners, so we were able to drive ahead, cowbells ringing, to urge the team on.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was about this time we noticed a group of young shirtless men running very fast, and we quickly dubbed them “D1” as they looked like the Villanova guys hitting the country roads for a workout. They were in fact the Reading Area Track Club and had made up their hour handicap on us about half way through Marie’s leg.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Movin’!.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Xander took a fast leg 8 passing to me on a pretty stretch of road near New Holland.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">At <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554721" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">5:35 PM</span></span>, nearly 11 hours after the start of the day I was finally running!<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>A tailwind pushed me the first 2 miles then a crosswind nearly knocked me down.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>I passed 5 runners and Lady Di chalked the “kills” on the side of Highlander. Di took her proper leg and passed to the other John - this one being Goldthorp of <span style="color: #e4af09;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://fixyourrun.com&source=gmail&ust=1497280891437000&usg=AFQjCNGMuK5hJOELw0oOiDr7mK7-_AxV5A" href="http://fixyourrun.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Fixyourrun.com</a> </span>fame, and also local expert commentator for the 2017 Broad St RunTV coverage.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>At <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554722" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">7:30 PM</span></span> +/- John passes to Maddy our last Van 2 runner.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>We are heading north and the terrain is hillier and Maddy gets about 800’ of it over 2 miles, but looks strong and is running fast.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">As we cheer from the road someone checks the rulebook and notes that headlamp and reflective vests must be worn after 8- and though she is going fast she won’t make it back before then, so we do full speed running hand off of vest and headlamp and keep within the rules! After Maddy’s great hill climb Di tells us we have still only lost the initial time from Shannon’s leg.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><b>(Talkin’ ‘Bout) NIGHT MOVES</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Van 1 now takes legs 13-18 and we get to eat and rest a bit.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Pasta Salad c/o Jon C, lemon pound cake from Eataly, pretzels, NYC bagels and cream cheese, fruit salad, left over from breakfast all consumed on a delightful asphalt table outside Highlander.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>A little foam rolling and we were off to Exchange 18 at Blue Marsh State Park.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s now completely dark, but as we enter the park it looks like a football game has just let out - there are vans everywhere! Many adorned with christmas lights - yes, we had them too.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>It appears that we had finally become a part of the mid-pack. Maddy, John and I hit the grass for 30 mins of near sleep, while Marie and Xander waited word of Kristen’s arrival.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Marie’s kill count* of 21 passed confirmed that we were making up ground in a hurry.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Xander was in at 25 kills, then Jeff on a the biggest climb so far took down 29.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>All this in the pitch dark.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>But darkness accented by a weird fluorescent array of bibs, glow sticks, shoes with lights in the heels (do they really make those for adults?!).<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>The Ragnarians are an extroverted bunch and as I made my way up the climb it was like swimming through a school of iridescent tropical fish.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>John hands to Maddy at “Moyer’s Large Gravel Lot” - some sort of Ag depot with animal pens, trucks and equipment mingling with the party vans. <span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>At some point in this overnight odyssey, Maddy does, in fact, cue up “Night Moves” (Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band, in case you’re not a Classic Rock radio fan) and it actually sounds pretty darn good.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Van 2 all hit their marks on the overnight legs and later everyone will agree that the night moves, I mean, running was one of the best parts.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span>* at some point Maddy’s many hours at GFS Quaker Meeting finally stirred her to take exception to the “kill count” obsession and ask that we downplay this and get on with the business of running, and maybe sleep a little too. We were having trouble seeing out the windows because of the hash marks anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><b>DID ANYONE CHECK A RECENT FORECAST??</b></span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Our work done we cruise out to the Mahoning drive-in Theatre in Lehighton.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Really!</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">In an inspired move, the race organizers have us set up camp at a still viable drive-in theatre- welcome to small town America. The outdoorsmen - Maddy, Jeff and John, set up a bivouac next to Highlander, and as the words - “it’s it really great sleeping outside” escape Maddy’s mouth, a light rain starts - and then continues.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Maddy, not amused, takes the last seat in the van, while John and I man up and then actually fall asleep for several hours in a steady rain! John has had enough by 6 and by then a gray light suffuses the drive-in. </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We knew where we had to go next - there would be coffee, hand dryers and Egg McMuffin’s - the 24 hr Mickey D’s on the edge of Lehighton.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Oberlin and then Brooklyn living had clearly deprived Marie of joys of the McCafe as she picked over her breakfast sandwich, and shared that a torn contact had left her essentially one- eyed.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Maddy accidentally jumped the line in front of a psycho sporting an IBEW t-shirt and he nearly made her pay.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Guess the dude needed his coffee bad.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The coffee was wonderful and the rain was abating. Di missed the whole scene asleep in Highlander.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Van 1 acquitted themselves nicely on their night moves and once again Marie took the slap bracelet from Kristen for Leg 31.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We are now nearly 30 mins behind the pace calculator.</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">It is really hard to run fast in the dark!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">We are in the heart of Pa Coal Country (or former coal country?) in Carbon County, and the landscape is carved with deep valleys, which meant some stiff climbing for Van 2’s last 6 legs. After one last session with the hand dryers, we found ourselves in the surprisingly quaint town square of Lehighton, and we waited for Marie.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">She looked strong as she made the exchange w Xander.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>At 10.5 miles and 1405’ of elevation gain this leg stood out as the toughest of the Relay- a fact not lost on the organizers as it warranted it’s own special medal. We intercepted Xander about halfway up the mountain running fast, but also with a nose bleed (talk about altitude!).<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Intrepid wife Marie applied first aid and he didn’t miss a step and then she paced him a bit, now going down the mountain.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>At the foot lay the mountain biking mecca of Jim Thorpe - a charming spot with a Victorian feel, train depot and the Lehigh River.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>The race gods had provided us with a coffee stand in the town square and we ordered another round which we were enjoying when X bombed into town.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>The problem with going down into a gorge is that you have to get back out, and cruelly the leg did not end for another mile up and over the river.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>We were seeing very few teams now but were still gaining on those that were left, and Xman passed 2 more up the final hill.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Strangely though these guys arrived at the exchange before he did, and then one said “the guy with the tattoo and sleeveless top missed the turn!” - Xander was still headed up the mountain!<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Di<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>jumped into Highlander and went one way, and I back tracked the other way.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>She found him quickly, slogging up the 10% grade and brought him back to the exchange, where the officials said he could hand off to Jeff without penalty. He looked shattered, and surely earned the “poc-o-nooo” special medal.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">By this point we had gotten the word that we were sitting somewhere in the top 10, probably top 5, and though I caught the 3 runners that had passed Xander they had earlier start times so we were already well ahead of them (I didn’t know this at the time though, so charged those the long climb out of Jim Thorpe pretty hard). The 10k<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>long leg flattened after the 2 mile climb, and I could feel the finish, and got the “old man legs” rolling at <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554723" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">6:30</span></span>+/- pace to the hand off to Di.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>If Xander’s Poc-o-nooo leg was the toughest, Di’s was surely the prettiest - a shady, dirt road with a gradual downhill ending on Hall Hollow Rd.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>This was also the nicest exchange zone, as we had escaped mid-pack status, we shared the shoulder with only 2 vans.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>John shared his fixyourrun philosophy, and we lounged in the sunshine.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Maddy and Xander talked hip-hop likes and dislikes, and generally all was right in our Ragnarian world.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>John took off and then it was all up to Maddy to “finish this thing”.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">She was a little ambivalent about having the honor of breaking the tape, especially given the 8.5 mile, 626’ vertical nature of the leg.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>John slammed his leg and Maddy turned onto Mecksville Rd, before some highway shoulder running to Lake Harmony and the Split Rock resort.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Van 2 waited at critical turns for encouragement and then met up with the rest of the team at the finish, which had the look at feel of a triathlon or bike race finish complete with orange themed blow-up finish arch.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>The assembled Get the Hill out of the Wayer’s met Maddy 50’ from the line and trailed her through the giant orange pylons, and 25 hours 15 minutes, and 204.1 miles later we were finished!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;"><b>STATS</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">We did crack the top 5!<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Coming in 4th out of 258 teams that finished.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>There were only 11 teams with DNFs - impressive. We were 2nd for mixed gender teams and 1st in the submasters division (30+).<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Reading Area Track Club (aka “D1”) were 1st place in <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554724" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">20:45</span></span>!!<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>An Ultra team (6 runners) - “sextuplets from different mothers” were 2nd in <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554725" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">23:44</span></span>, and the final podium spot went to “make the moon american again”<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>in 24:41.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Longest Leg:10.5mi<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Xander X-man Wolverton</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Most Elev Gain Leg:1480’<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>X-man<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Most Total Elevation Gain - 2457’<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>X-man<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Fastest Leg Pace (men): <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554726" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">6:00</span></span>, leg 7, X-man</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Honorable Mention - <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554727" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">7:11</span></span> (850’ elev gain), leg 35, John “The Fixer” Goldthorp</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Fastest Leg Pace (women) - <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554728" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">6:37</span></span>, leg 12, Maddy<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Honorable Mention - <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1307554729" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">6:47</span></span>, leg 31, Marie</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Kilz: 29, leg 21, Jeff<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Play with Pain Award - Jon C</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Team Spirit (could there be any doubt): Lady Di</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Other Notable Team Names: Ultra Amish Mafia, Worst Pace Scenario, Vans Against Humanity, Nights in Under Armor, Buddy Holla and the Shin Splints, 2 Men and a Van Fulla Divas……..see website for more entertainment of this sort.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">CONCLUSION</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">It was fun, hard and really great to get to know Di, John, Xander and Marie.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>Definitely fun running over night. Neat to get a little window into the weird world of Ragnar Relays.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was a huge, somewhat exhausting effort to recruit the rest of the team, though the team assembled was awesome (and very fast).<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>It would have been nice to see Van 1 more but logistically not really possible. Doubling the running by being an ultra team might be more satisfying as it seemed like forever waiting to run, especially that first leg. I liked the vanning about and the navigating though at times the exchange zones<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>were too heavily dominated by cars. And a few more dirt roads and less highway shoulders would have been the nicest change to make.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The trail Ragnar might be the way</span><span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space" style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">to go, if there is a future one, as they loop back to a common start/ finish. And no pavement!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Thank you to Diana for the remarkable amount of energy and organizing that made the run possible. <span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Sorry Van 1, that we didn’t get to know you better, and Van 2, you guys were awesome.<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>25<span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span>hours in a Highlander with 2 hours of sleep and there was nary a cross world exchanged (except the father/ daughter type, and those don’t count)! <span class="m_1100740842852441905Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">Rock on Ragnarian’s!!</span></div>
Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0Lake Harmony, PA 18624, USA41.0606423 -75.59102189999998715.538607799999998 -116.89961589999999 66.5826768 -34.282427899999988tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-9413730864423479152016-11-13T14:28:00.000-05:002017-03-11T17:11:31.508-05:00Javelina 100"You seem like a pretty normal guy," said the man across the aisle from me on my flight to Phoenix. I had just finished telling him that I was on my way to compete in a 100 mile trail race in the desert. But during and now after this extraordinary experience, nothing about it felt normal at all. Surreal starts to get closer to what went down on October 29th and 30th.<br /><br />Javelina Jundred bills itself as a Jalloween party in the desert, with special awards for costumed runners, and despite the serious business of running 100 miles, a carnival spirit pervades. My friend Mike suggested Javelina last winter and I liked the idea that I would be able to visit my brother Greg in nearby Scottsdale and help him celebrate his Halloween birthday. Many trail races are limited in size due to concerns about trail degradation or logistics, but this year's races (there is a 100k too) had over 800 registrants, 580 of them in the 100 miler. In addition to being large, the format is interesting and a bit complicated with 5 roughly equal loops that alternate direction. Add to that 100k runners starting an hour after us, and you have the potential for lots of mayhem! Mayhem Central is Javelina Jeadquarters, aka the start/ finish of each loop. Add in a runner's tent village, Freak Bros mobile pizza kitchen, an RV area, hanging skeletons, etc. and you start to get the picture.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<b>No Shade at McDowell Mountain Park</b></div>
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Greg and I rolled into JQ at 5:15am. Temps were pleasant, but warm layers got left behind as 91 was the forecasted high. The day before we had concocted our cooling strategy and in the back of Greg's truck were 20 pounds of crushed ice pre-packaged to fit into pockets of my Tim Olsen race vest. Greg asked if I wanted to start the 1st loop with them? I didn't think so, but stuffed one into the back for good measure. 18 miles later on the Escondido Trail and with the sun still low in the sky I was happy for any pre-cooling effect that I might have gained. I had joined a small group that featured Tonya and Mr Tubesock. Tonya was a chatty local in a race that featured runners from all over the US (plus entries from China, Norway, Scotland, Canada and Mexico) who runs these trails weekly. We talked some about how to handle the downhills (easy) and if it would be possible to go under 20 hours? Escondido was bleak, hot and dusty and I was happy that the other loops skipped that trail. At mile 22.3 I crossed the timing mat a few minutes ahead of schedule and high-fived with Greg, who then expertly resupplied me, this time w the full compliment of ice including in my bandanna and hat.<div>
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<b>Clockwise/Counterclockwise</b></div>
I was back in the desert for Loop 2 with Tonya and Mr T, and found that he had 1 upped me on the cooling strategy- he had a heavy looking roll around his neck that he periodically grabbed and wrung out over his head- a tube sock filled w ice! And I thought the days of the tube sock were long over! We passed the sock back and forth for a few miles. Most of the course is on the Pemberton Trail which slowly ascends 680” over 8 miles or so. It was tempting to run the whole way, but we mixed in some walking. Total elevation gain is 7900', and as the race website states - "not flat!". Also a part our race "friend group"was a guy dressed as a glass of beer. Also observed: the big bad wolf in full granny dress (not making this up!), bacon man, a squirrel and a general category of Tinkerbells, bees, and guys in tutus (including race director Jamil Coury). I lingered a while at the AS repacking the ice bags and it took nearly 5 miles of descending to catch the Tonya group, but shortly thereafter I pulled away from them and happily crossed the timing mat back at JQ at which point I confess I played a little air guitar, inspired by the CCR on the sound system (heat induced euphoria?). Greg had the AS thing down cold at this point and I added arm sleeves soaked in ice water and grabbed a hand held bottle, as it was still only 2 o’clock. Then from the other end of the chute I hear Mike Halovatch shout my name, and to go ahead, and he would catch up to me (he was in the 100k). Before he did, I ran up on Neela, a woman we met at the packet pick up who was this year's VT 100k champ, and also a FOH (friend of Halovatch). We ran together and eventually Mike joined us as well. It was a big lift that got me all the way to Mile 52, and still pretty much on pace to break 20 hours, but increasingly my stomach was not happy. Over the course of the race I tried Coke, Tums, and broth to get it settled but nothing really worked, so I just ate what looked good - watermelon, cookies (Chips Ahoy and Oreos!), pretzels, and kept sucking the gels to keep the energy stores stocked. I didn’t catch Mike and Neela on the descent back to JQ, though I was moving fast. 62 miles were in the book and the sun was just about down, but that famous desert temperature swing was not happening - Greg said it was still nearly 80 degrees. I changed my shirt and hat and put on the head lamp. As I was leaving the camp I heard them announce that Mike was 3rd in the 100k! Each time out got a little harder to start, but I was off counter clockwise again on lap 4.</div>
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<b style="text-align: center;">New Moon and Headlamp Running</b></div>
Not long into the loop I was joined by Brandon from Vancouver who had just had a 30 min rest in the medical tent to treat his blistered feet. Clearly the rest had done him some good and we pace-lined the 10 miles back up the mountain. I was just barely hanging on and once at Jackass Junction, was really spent. I was looking forward to the night running and for the most part it was another thrilling aspect of the race - everything looks different illuminated in a beam of light and with the weirdly shaped cacti and dessert vegetation even more so. Little mice and lizards scurried past. And then there were the coyotes, yipping and making the damnedest barking noises I’ve ever heard. At one point I even saw one skirting the shadows just outside my cone of light. The quiet solo moments were the best, but the times I was in a small train of runners was also nice because we were illuminated front, back and sides. As the night and laps progressed, I could see dots of lights defining the trail ahead of me, or gradually getting brighter as they approached.</div>
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<b>Rattlesnack Ranch, Jackass Junction, and Coyote Crossing</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeL_b9ON8LukE-z3hgxTiyVDYvuHogYrDD2VF_ngroerItGWgJPYK39N5-dS4fdmAGQJGhb5VY5O9rJFMY9QWtTRYADJcHgmVcAf4DZqbvaEz9GeNfeSfq92LGJLn_uLbJCUm81jDDM4Td/s1600/IMG_1376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeL_b9ON8LukE-z3hgxTiyVDYvuHogYrDD2VF_ngroerItGWgJPYK39N5-dS4fdmAGQJGhb5VY5O9rJFMY9QWtTRYADJcHgmVcAf4DZqbvaEz9GeNfeSfq92LGJLn_uLbJCUm81jDDM4Td/s320/IMG_1376.jpg" width="320" /></a>Are the charming names of the 3 on course aid stations, and just like desert villages each had a different character. Coyote was spartan and quiet and the closest to JQ so you were in and out quickly. Rattlesnake was on the rocky side, a relief from the uneven terrain, and on laps 4 and 5 felt like a late night diner. After descending that rocky slope on lap 4, I took a chair next to an exhausted woman who said in a thick accent, “this is nothing like Scotland”, to which I replied - “what about the West Highland Way?” The famous walking path (also an ultra run!) has miles of bleak but beautiful rocky hills. “Well, OK, but the temperate version” she conceded. Also sitting next to us were 2 dudes, I will nickname them Joker and his Sidekick - they were going up on lap 5 while I was going down on 4 - “hey, Im only 8 miles behind you guys!” and Joker gives me a smart answer like “that is such a shame”. I drink my broth and have a quesadilla (the best food of the night) and head on down the last stretch to JQ. I’m bushed and Greg says “you’re doing it, right?”. “Yep, even if I have to walk the f*cker!” Before I go I apply tape (2 laps too late) to my right toes, which I now see are pretty blistered.<br /><br />With each stop it got harder to will myself to run, but each time I did so, I was surprised that I could sustain it. Much of running this far is mental trickery - just get to the funky rock, or the aid station, or catch the guy up ahead - pretty simple, but effective. I just had to get back to Rattlesnake, where I passed more bleary eyed diners, and then up the rocky 6.5 miles to Jackass. Jackass Junction, captained by bald and bearded Justin Lutik, is the roadhouse of the Javelina 100, and with each lap the scene was a bit crazier and more surreal - before, I had noticed the female volunteers in cheerleader outfits, this last visit, there were 3 buff cross-dressed guys as well. And they were taking drink orders! As much as I love my beer, it’s never worked for me in a race, so just had more Coke, but took in the dance floor w disco ball and a solo woman grooving away, as I sat on a bench way too long. 91 miles banked, and 9 to go on the sandy, friendly to the feet, side of the park. I was completely isolated now with only stragglers coming up on their 4th lap, and a few descending on their 3rd. Out of nowhere, I hear a brief pounding and then a woman in a purple top flies past - I struggle out of my stupor and will myself to catch her, but to no avail, and I’m alone again. Turns out this was the women’s winner who has done a brilliant job of working her way through the field. Catching her wake might have got me sub 21:00, but like in bike racing, you let that wheel get away, <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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and it’s all over. I finally hit Coyote for the last time - 3.7 miles to go! I vow to run the whole way, and after 2 miles or so, I see 2 headlamps - it’s Joker & Sidekick!! I had made up the 8 mile gap. I can only figure that they were lured into Justin’s disco and were walking it home? They did however, shout encouragement. About this time I saw the coyote and then had my only real moment of mental weakness - I just had to walk - and I could even see the lights of JQ. Soon I did snap out of it, and entered the gate of the village. It has turned strangely quiet with a low throb of a Techno beat replacing the Rock from earlier laps. I got a smattering of applause and shout outs and as I turned the final corner, of course my sidekick was still there, and 21:14 was reading on the clock! I crossed the mat, and was handed my finisher's belt buckle (a tradition in 100 mile races).<br /><br />Greg got me a chair and I shucked my shoes. He checked the website and told me I was 24th place. I had no idea - I figured top 50. There were so many people on the course going different directions it was impossible to keep track. I was deeply tired and just as deeply content, my debut 100 miler was now history. I had promised the medical contingent in the family that I would not come home after being discharged from the hospital - it looks like I may lose a toenail or 2, but I didn’t even get sunburned. 20 hours was the original goal - Ceci upped the ante to top 20 as well, but considering the day, the placing was felt beyond good. It took a very long time to walk the quarter mile to his truck.<br /><br /><b>Stats</b><br />There were 285 finishers and 289 who did not! Tonya hung in there and was 4th woman in 22:30. Brandon was 20th in 20:44 - next time he should treat his own blisters! Neela beat Halovatch by 7 minutes and was 2nd woman, but was 1:45:00 behind the 1st woman who also smoked the entire field. Zach Bitter set a course record of 13:30 winning the 100 miler by 1:10:00 and clocked 1 loop at 7 minute pace - what heat? High temp for the day was 93. <br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-RTdDi3e8OKzYxdpRXTYDg1IH6zW-1Khtqezj0oZW07lhjBBQHw1eDD3w1mgTh7_QK6ZP2P_avApAQ-CufDJi0max39oRnr9b_IfwW2xXRdxSiwn8IRkGmz4gKfg-Hq2tUgtlLaYV3G-1/s1600/IMG_1385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-RTdDi3e8OKzYxdpRXTYDg1IH6zW-1Khtqezj0oZW07lhjBBQHw1eDD3w1mgTh7_QK6ZP2P_avApAQ-CufDJi0max39oRnr9b_IfwW2xXRdxSiwn8IRkGmz4gKfg-Hq2tUgtlLaYV3G-1/s320/IMG_1385.JPG" width="180" /></a><b>Gear</b><br />New Balance Trail Gobi’s (in “moon phase” silver and gray); Tim Olsen Ultimate Direction Ice/ Hydration Vest; did wear gaiters (1 small rock all day); Millet hat with skirt and liner (thought it would make it hot, but in fact held ice without freezing my dome); Squirrel’s Nut Butter (no chafing anywhere).<br /><br /><b>The Next Day</b><br />While I was soaking in a eucalyptus scented jacuzzi bath in Scottsdale, Greg and girlfriend Steph went back to McDowell Park to retrieve my drop back bag that hadn’t made it back from Jackass the night before. The mood was upbeat again and with the noon cutoff approaching people were still finishing in under 30 hours!<br /><br /><b>Thanks</b><br />Huge thanks to Greg, who went big with his first crew experience, and to Stephanie for spending her birthday catering to a hobbled runner - beyond the call of duty, and very much appreciated!</div>
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Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-41195162049776573732016-09-17T10:00:00.000-04:002017-03-12T22:04:37.499-04:00Shawangunk Ridge Trail 50 miler<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Moonlight At The Bashakill</b></div>
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The shuttle bus from Rosendale (where the race finishes) bumped across a narrow bridge to a small parking lot, illuminated by a single light. The 8 of us (that was it!) trotted out into the misty darkness. The race director gave us waterproof maps and our race numbers and a few navigational tips before the 6 AM start.<br />
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The Shawangunk Ridge Trail Run & Hike (SRT) is a "minimalist" race - no goodie bag with junk you don't need; no trail markings (hence the map!); no aid stations, just check points; no pacers; no water. Just you and the trail. But with 1 modern twist - a .gpx file of the course and app to run on your phone.</div>
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The race had actually already started the day before with the real hardcore, starting 12 hours earlier and another 20 miles south at High Point State Park in NJ, running over night hoping to cover the entire 72 miles of the SRT. There would be others starting later going for 30 and 13 miles. We would all hopefully converge on Rosendale, NY later in the day.</div>
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Headlamps on, we were underway.<br />
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<b>Sandal Bro's</b></div>
As almost never happens to me, I ended up finding 2 racers who wanted to run my pace. Bill and Tim were a few meters ahead of me, and illuminated in my headlamp beam I could see they were both wearing sandals. I'm not talking Nike, Teva, fancy almost-look-like-shoe sandals - these were kind of dainty- simple leather straps, thin bottom. Wow, I hope they know where they are headed? Turns out that Bill had just done the Machu Pichu marathon so it gave me some confidence that he would make it. We ran along the old D&H canal path until daylight and then into Wurtsburo for the only paved section of the course (which we complained about - ha). By mile 6 we were on the trails again, and I marveled at how the two of them could dance around the rocks and roots without tripping. And they even had all their toe nails! After about 10-12 miles, including a few missed turns, I needed to get into my own rhythm - my back, ankle and hips were all tight and I thought if I pushed a bit more it would help, so I waved bye to the Sandal Bro's and headed out along the first of many Ridge line traverses.<br />
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<b>Fire And Footbaths</b></div>
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In the spring of 2016, 8000 acres of forest in the Minewaska State Park burned in one of the largest NY wild fires in recent history. The section of the park that contains the SRT, Sam's Point, is officially closed but since we were few, and apparently deserving special treatment we were allowed in - with conditions. Namely a shoe wash prior to entering at mile 20. A volunteer thoroughly scrubbed the bottoms to rid them of potential invasives before sending us up the biggest climb of the day - South Gully Trail, 1400' up. She also noted that is was 10:15, so I had been at this for 4 hours plus and the fun hadn't really even begun. She also said the lead guy came through at 9:30!<br />
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The forest was oddly quiet and the trail looked like early spring, with lots of leaves, sticks and deadfall. As in most ultras this was a “walk a bit/ run a bit” proposition and plenty hard. Part 2 of our special treatment was a "reroute" off the top of South Gully adding 2+ miles to the route and a net gain in the climbing department as well. The detour, however, took us to the high point (2295’) of the Gunks via the aptly named, High Point Trail which ended up being a highlight of the day. It did though introduce a new sort of wayfinding experience (to be repeated many times as the day went on): following hieroglyphic like paint splotches over huge limestone slabs which lay amidst a vast plateau of laurel and scrub oak thickets.</div>
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This frequently required jumps down, or scrambles up - as much like gymnastics as running. About 1/2 way around High Point I came upon Anna, a 70 mile racer. She was sitting on one of the slabs resting. We chatted, then I moved on, made a wrong turn and circled back to her! After that I slowed down so I could scout more carefully. The sun was now fully out and directly overhead and the 2.5 liters of water I started with was nearly gone. At mile 26, the detour rejoined the SRT.<br />
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<b>Food and Water for 12+ Hours</b></div>
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Due to the recent drought, most steam beds we crossed were dry, leading the race organizers to allow water at the last 3 check points. The only problem was that they occurred in the last 15 miles of the course which I wouldn’t reach until 8 hours into the run. I can't say why, but when I stopped at lake Maratanza, I splashed off, but did not fill my hydration pack. I could see Mud Pond and Lake Awosting were not that far away and by the time I reached them (mile 28) I was really needing water. I bushwhacked through brambles to try and reach the edge of Mud Pond, but turned back. Then detoured to Awosting (mile 29) and encountered a 20' ledge and again was thwarted. I sucked a few gels for the liquid and ran on. I was moving comfortably, but getting frustrated as the Scenic Trail and the orange blazed Rainbow Trail involved more crazy scrambles and paint blazes on rock.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note: Lavender blaze indicating trail</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I promise, if you look hard there really is a trail!</td></tr>
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Just past the Castle Point Carriage Rd (mile 32) I started hearing voices coming from above--wait, those really are voices! I had just pulled a rock climbing move to swing around an outcrop and I nearly bumped into 2 hikers, who asked me if I was in a race? I replied while eyeing the water bottle bulging from his pack- "could I have a sip?" About a 1/2 a liter later I was finished drinking. Maybe they really were angels? About this time I met my next 70 miler. He was cursing that he had missed the orange blaze and did a complete loop around Castle Point, back to where he started! I descended to Rainbow Falls, dripped a few mouthfuls from the pathetic trickle and climbed hard, and then my second set of angel-hikers with water. I guess I looked like I needed help, but then again enjoying the vista from a rock in the Gunks must make people happy and generous. The Rainbow Trail ends with a crossing of Peters Kill- looking pretty brackish and slow, I almost ran on, but did find a bit of a pool and finally filled my pack!</div>
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In most ultras you can supplement the food you carry with a drop bag or choose from a table full of goodies, both sweet and savory, eagerly assisted by volunteers. At Laurel Highlands you could have a grilled cheese, made right on the spot! For the SRT, I carried it all: gels, blocks, pretzels, a bagel with peanut butter, Oreos, trail mix, sweet n salty bars - not knowing exactly what would taste good at the time, or how long I would be out there. I ate virtually all 3500 calories worth, everything but the bagel really, which supposed to be lunch, but due to the water shortage (see above) couldn't manage.<br />
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<b>Jenny and the Undivided Lot</b></div>
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After the water stop, the route took me to the delightfully straight(ish) and smooth(ish) blue blazed Jenny Lane Trail (mile 34.5). Ahh, I could actually stretch out and make some time. Then I finally reached that checkpoint with the water!! - CP#4 at Minnewaska SP (mile 37.5), and also caught my first 30 miler. Of course the smooth sailing didn't last, and after a euphoric moment at the checkpoint my energy level was dipping when I hit the brutally steep and rocky High Peters Kill Trail - a climb that takes you to a gap between 2 high knobs - Whale’s Head and Dickie Barre. It finally did level out for some nice ridge running in a pretty forest, and eventually got me to CP#5 (mile 41.5).<br />
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As I'm sure you have gathered, the SRT is not really a trail but a collection of trails stitched together, many with delightful names - Warwarsing Turnpike, Old Minewaska, and my favorite, the Undivided Lot Trail! The light was fading by the time I got on Undivided, so roughly 12 hours in, but it was another mostly straight bit and I was running smoothly, knowing that at its end was the final checkpoint at Spring Farm trailhead, meaning only 6 miles to Rosendale! I nearly gave my headlamp to a volunteer at CP#5, who asked if she could bring anything back to the start. Wow, was not giving into that impulse a bit of good luck, as somewhere after the last grueling last climb up Chapel Hill (Lord have mercy), it was dark. Running in the dark is sort of fun, but also creepy- it was still very warm and even more humid with bugs in the headlamp beam and animal noises in the woods. I knew we eventually joined a straight and flat bit of rail trail just outside Rosendale, but it never seem to come. I was also thinking of my daughter who had been waiting since before my poorly predicted 6:00 PM (at the latest!) arrival.</div>
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<b>Trestle and the Finish</b></div>
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The Rosendale Trestle is a cool relic from days past when the canals and railways dominated the Hudson River area and also is only a 1/2 mile from the finish. I picked up the pace some as I hit the planks and just on the other side, caught sight of a girl with a dog! Maddy and Andy (the dog) ran with me to the finish at the Binnewater Kilns. 13 hours and 55 minutes and 53.5 miles later, the Shawangunk traverse was complete! The finish line scene was kind of like the start - a parking area with one corner illuminated, but this time with music and a tent. Race director Todd, who probably had less sleep than any of the runners, was trying to get more pizza delivered from town, handing out water and IPA’s, and occasionally playing air guitar. About 10 runners and volunteers remained, mostly sprawled in lawn chairs, some soaking their feet, but all looking very content. Cheers went up when a headlamp beam bobbed across the road to the finish.</div>
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<b>Stats</b></div>
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Adam the 50 mile winner was in at 12:29; I was 2nd place. Bill and Tim stayed together and finished in 16:12. There were 2 other 50 mile finishers. 10 out of 16 finished the 70 with times ranging from 21 to 28 hours! Last spring, in the same mountains, but on carriage roads, my time for Rock the Ridge 50 miler was 7:32! The SRT was a different sort of race for sure.<br />
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<b>Gear</b><br />
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New Balance Vazee Summit's were great all day- good for rock climbing and running, and lightweight. Osprey Rev 1.5 was probably bigger than I needed, but fit well even with 8-10 pounds of water and and food; and the ”digiflip" pocket for the phone was so convenient. The All Trails GPS app for iPhone was also lifesaver - crystal clear maps and controls. Sawyer carbon water filter took care of the nasty stuff in the Peters Kill, and weighs next to nothing. Lulu Surge shorts and t-shirt (now worn around the world for 7 years) are just right.</div>
Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0Rosendale, NY, USA41.8443125 -74.081066941.7970005 -74.1617479 41.8916245 -74.0003859tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-60575762683202554652016-05-03T22:58:00.000-04:002017-03-13T23:07:50.606-04:00Mohonk Preserve Rock the Ridge 50 Mile Challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The forest fire at Sam’s Point had grown from 300 to nearly 2000 acres by Wednesday Apr 27. Sam’s Point, also part of the Shawangunk Ridge in Ulster County NY, is only a few miles from the western edge of the Rock the Ridge course and threatened to jeopardize the race. Fortunately Mother Nature delivered timely wet and cool weather and we got word on Thursday night that the fire was nearly out and that the race was a go! </div>
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I was looking for a spring 50 miler and was nearly headed back to nearby Bear Mountain, but a casual conversation with my friend Keith, a life long hiker and enthusiast for the Shawangunks, led me to enter the RTR Challenge. As I considered the crushed stone carriage path versus the frequently unrunnable rocks at Bear Mountain my feet and ankles were already feeling happy and thankful.<br />
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Rock the Ridge is billed as a “challenge” not a “race”. Inspired by JFK’s 1963 fitness challenge to the US Marines to be able to march 50 miles in 20 hours, the Mohonk Preserve created a hike/ run/ relay event based roughly on the same parameters - an inclusive event that allows for both ultra runners and those up for a hard day’s walk in the mountains. The other distinctive feature of the event is that it is run almost exclusively on the remarkably engineered and well maintained carriage roads that are part of the 8000 acre preserve.<br />
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I hoped that my long runs on the forest roads and ridges of the Pocono Plateau would be good “race specific” training, and I toed the line with two 50k’s completed in 2016 and feeling fit. Keith and my daughter Ceci both made the trip up the night before, and we had a somewhat non traditional pre-race German dinner at the Mountain Brauhaus. Keith provided transport to the start in his antique Alfa Romeo, and Ceci was scheduled to meet me on course for miles 25 through 38. As an architect and lover of rustic mountain camps and lodges, the start alone might have justified the race as it begins below the graceful arch of the Testimonial Gatehouse. The Gatehouse was where guests entered the grounds of the Mohonk Mountain House before being delivered by carriage to the hotel itself.</div>
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The overnight rain had stopped and the sky was clearing just in time for the 6:00 AM start. Temps were about perfect at around 40 with a predicted high in the mid- 60’s, with a mix of sun and clouds. 300 people were registered divided pretty evenly between hikers, runners and relayers. The race description showed 7000’+ of elevation gain (though my Garmin clocked a bit less) but despite that, given the good surface, I thought a 50 mile PR was possible, and though local old guy, Ken Posner, had run 7:15:00 in 2015, I thought 1st master might be a long shot as well.<br />
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The first 10 miles proved to be the most challenging of the day, though my problems probably started before the whistle. I optimized sleep over more time to eat, pre-race, but still wanted to pack in the calories. I had looked for those 100% fruit juice bottles at our coop, but only found something called a “yogurt smoothie” that I chugged minutes before the start. The first 5 miles takes you up onto the ridge on a manageable but steep grade. I felt sluggish and bloated but more and more these days my starting miles are hard - something akin to the tin man, getting all the rusty joints working again. We passed some pretty farms and entered the forest still climbing. The problem started to define itself as GI related and I was asking myself “was that first aid station at 9 miles or 12??”. By mile 7 there was no more debating and I headed into the woods. I lost time and heard a half dozen runners crunch past, but was much improved once back on the path. And then able to push hard on some nice downhills.<br />
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One aspect of having relay runners among the rest of the pack (without an obviously different race number) is that it was hard to tell what place you are in. I got a report early that I was 12th and figured that seemed about right but at the same time thought I might need to get a bit out of my comfort zone, so ran up some hills that normally I would be inclined to walk. This included a very long climb from miles 12 to 15 that culminated in another impressive piece of architecture - a limestone monument with at the top of a mountain (1500’) with views galore. <br />
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After a quick gaze at the structure and the Catskills in the distance, I put in some fast downhill miles that culminated in another aid station where to my surprise someone told me that I was the 5th individual! During those first 15 miles I jockeyed for position with about about 8-10 others, but then I entered a long lonely stretch and was seemingly the only person in the park (I guess they all loved that aid station?). It was also one of the few places that was not so charming and without a view! Not even a great surface - but I was on a pretty good pace and feeling good. I had packed my phone and checked in with Ceci to make sure she wasn’t still in bed. She was, in fact, eating the amazing breakfast at the Inn that I had to substitute the yogurt smoothie for! And still on schedule for the Lyons Rd meet up.<br />
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I started hitting 8- 8:30 pace and soon made it to Lyons Rd where Ceci was shouting encouragement, refilled my hydration pack and got a fresh supply of gels. Quickly we were off for the last of the major climbing for the day - a high circuit around Minnewaska State Park. The amazing limestone rock formations and cliffs are a major part of the landscape here, and we probably spent a bit too much time picture taking. <br />
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The grading of the carriage roads is so perfect that no climb seems too hard to run and with Ceci to urge me on, we tackled the long miles to Castle Point (2194’). I knew the elevation, and kept looking at my altimeter and stating definitively as we jogged in and out of the cliff edge - “this has to be it!”. Between the views and the picture taking this section went quickly despite the elevation gain. Then we plunged down, losing 1200’ over the next 6 miles. I was fatiguing and we did some side stepping/ skipping drills to loosen up as we headed back to Lyons Rd (mile 38), where I shed my pack, changed shirts and said good bye to Ceci.</div>
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After the aid station you double back on the course, and I seemed to meet the bulk of the racers coming the other way, most of whom shouted encouragement. It was still long, flat and tough. Once past Rt 44 the route picked up Undercliff Carriage Rd, a rock climbing mecca and one of the coolest section of the day. Note that, since the obelisk at mile 15 to this point, mile 38, we saw only 2 other runners going our direction, so it had been pretty much a solo affair, and though watching the climbers on their pads, and rappelling down from above, should have been interesting, mostly I felt out of energy. I had stopped keeping my splits when I was running w Ceci but now changed modes to see how it was going. Not great - 38, 39, 40, 41, were slow shuffling affairs engendering thoughts about “why” and “how will I ever do a 100 miler?” At the final aid station the volunteers perked up (I always felt like I was taking them by surprise) and seemed to know for sure that I was the 5th individual, which perked me up! And though not as dramatic as the cliffs this was a delightful small track winding through some pretty woods.<br />
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After all the down hill, at mile 44 you encounter the long slow final climb of the day, which curiously felt pretty good. It was quiet and peaceful and I locked into a zen like state where somehow you are going strong, but you are not sure exactly where the energy is coming from. Then I spotted one of the small 5 mile interval trail markers that meant I had made it to mile 45! The ridge, however, was still a few minutes off. I also thought I glimpsed a human shadow up ahead. Then as I came through the pass I clearly saw a guy a few switchbacks below. I didn’t know if he was a relay guy or individual but I reeled him in and passed without asking, and just said “good job”. More nice downhills and with 3 to go, Ceci appears again. She confirms the 5th place and says there are still 2 guys on the course between me and the finish. I go harder over the next mile with her at my side, but don’t catch sight of them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQd2qVfqGlCZrF3rnvGV53_MnmDRBn2vZuxGi-PpNaCOFlhuBDxHVhU1ynq3LIxE8ErebsRFzy7n54NwFHwoboHLq3WbL8XDvLA8TxgboCAvUSxdKcOM0zR9UYhJURRrTD1bJt8tM_96to/s1600/Image+5-3-16+at+11.33+AM+%252813%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQd2qVfqGlCZrF3rnvGV53_MnmDRBn2vZuxGi-PpNaCOFlhuBDxHVhU1ynq3LIxE8ErebsRFzy7n54NwFHwoboHLq3WbL8XDvLA8TxgboCAvUSxdKcOM0zR9UYhJURRrTD1bJt8tM_96to/s640/Image+5-3-16+at+11.33+AM+%252813%2529.jpeg" width="640" /></a>With 2 miles to go we rejoin Lenape Lane which coincides with the first 2 miles- it is farmland and more open, but I still can’t see the gatehouse nor 3rd and 4th place due to one more small rise. Ceci peels off to retrieve the car and I am energized, and hoping for a chase to the end but once over the knoll it is just me and the allee of trees leading to the finish. I can’t quite see the clock but it is definitely a day for a PR. I go under the arch at 7:32:15 to enthusiastic cheering from the small crowd and a high 5 from the race director and a hug from Ceci. Now that is an ending to savor! Then I think I hear the timer says something about “first master”, and the RD comes over for another handshake and framed photo for my prize. “I won’t tell you how many years I’ve been a master, but I’ll take it!<br />
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For perspective, first and second place were in over an hour ahead of me, running over a minute per mile faster! And another fun fact - while chatting with 4th placer, Ken, I learned that we are practically neighbors in Philadelphia! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYMAgs0TTMMDLsgRQT32IS5Z0t67rHSfi6VtTErCsHDKPTVOufQw75U_Qm5dg4jxPWpOPM1_EQ14AON8r0ulMjFGZ030TPAzL8tw82mrzNducJPSRQYM4bahQyPGR3j-UouLsmlJqwe-7/s1600/Image+5-3-16+at+11.33+AM+%252814%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYMAgs0TTMMDLsgRQT32IS5Z0t67rHSfi6VtTErCsHDKPTVOufQw75U_Qm5dg4jxPWpOPM1_EQ14AON8r0ulMjFGZ030TPAzL8tw82mrzNducJPSRQYM4bahQyPGR3j-UouLsmlJqwe-7/s320/Image+5-3-16+at+11.33+AM+%252814%2529.jpeg" width="240" /></a>A few more field notes: my New Balance Hiero's (with Fresh Foam!) were awesome-no blisters, no hurting and just the right amount of cush and support; not sure if the aid stations were offering it, but a bit of real food like a ham and cheese sandwich (seriously) would have been good- I only took gels and blocks and a few pretzels and could have used a few more cals; your arms get tired too in a 7 hour race and the arm swinging and twisting we did really helped; and of course, NEVER, NEVER experiment with things on race day - i.e. Yogurt smoothies!<br />
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The Gunks are an amazing place- check them out!<br />
Keith - thanks for opening a new door to unique place.<br />
Ceci, another adventure in the book- well done as always! </div>
Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0Gardiner, NY 41.8586493 -74.311821241.102006800000005 -75.602714699999993 42.6152918 -73.0209277tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-33512932880131175852015-11-04T13:28:00.000-05:002017-06-11T13:36:19.015-04:00'15 New York City Marathon<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;"><br /></b>
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Pre-Race</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Spooky. It was Halloween and we were in Greenwich Village with thousands watching the parade, and I was getting grumpy, worried that I had been on the pavement too long with the race start 12 hours away. Or make that 13, as lucky for us, daylight savings time started the next morning as well.</span><br />
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Logistics for 50,000 </b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Committing to public transit, Ceci and I boarded the R train in Chelsea at 5:50 AM southbound to the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, 4 hours before the start of the race. Boarding the 6:45 ferry was surprisingly calm and orderly as was the connecting bus to the Blue Wave starters village (1700 porta-johns and all). Also included: coffee by Dunkin’, bagels and Power Gel. At 9:00 the gate closed on the B corral of the Blue Wave, more potties inside. A critical fact, as while waiting for a last go, most of the blue wave seemed to surge past us, to get closer to the line. By the time we joined the masses we were back with the 3:30 pace crowd, requiring a shouldering up stream to the “3 hr” banner where we would reside for 20 minutes before our 9:50 start. Along with water and gel we brought a sharpie and monogrammed Ceci’s bare mid-drift with “C C” and my singlet with “jeff”, and passed the pen back to a serious looking guy who underlined “Relax!!” already marked on his forearm.</span><br />
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">It was Nearly Perfect (Until the Start)</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Spike Lee sent us off and up the Verranzo Narrows Bridge, and the trouble began. Despite being in the “NYC Elite” wave we were somehow stuck behind hundreds of NYPD(?) charity runners. Helpless to go faster and moving up the incline with as much horizontal as forward movement, we logged 8:00 for mile 1, then overcompensating, 6:15 for mile 2 on the down stroke into Brooklyn. Not exactly the script for the 2h55m pace we wanted to run. Runners seemed to be merging from every direction and mixing with the crowds already cheering three rows deep, and we started the first of our 13 miles in the 2nd Borough. We also starting hearing the first of the “Go CC” cheers. The guy in the yellow singlet beside her seemed to be invisible! We were clicking 6:40 miles, marveling at the crowds and grooving to the bands that urged us on. </span><br />
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Elation in Brooklyn, Squabbles, and the Split </b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">By mile 8 in downtown Brooklyn, where we missed Kelly, who was swallowed by loudest and most massive crowd yet, the pace was slipping to 6:45-47, and Ceci was looking anxiously over her shoulder and urging me to “get up here” with her eyes. Apparently the 2 of us had not sufficiently worked out the nuances of our race plan, and friction was developing. The slow start, and differences in Garmin tracking and attitude, added to the situation. I was pretty sure a slow first half could be overcome, whereas Ceci wanted the even splits. A father/ daughter argument played out mid-race, with chants of “CC”, now building more fervently. The support was truly unreal – even a 4 year old or someone from Venezuela can read and then yell “Go CC!”, and they all were doing it. Being a 5-11 female with a bare tummy did not hurt her cause. She was flying, and I was having doubts – 10,11,12 miles, we are mostly on pace but it was clear to me that we were better off doing our own race. At 13.1, we had one last debate about the meaning of 1:29:xx and I told her she could still do it if she killed the last 3 miles in the Park and then I watched her disappear in front of me.</span><br />
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<i style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">From Ceci: In retrospect, I have my dad to thank for my finishing time, because I ended up running perfectly even splits, which I’ve heard is the best way to run a marathon. If it hadn’t been for this nagging old man, I probably would have gone out in 1:27, and while I may have been able to hang on for 2:55, more likely, I would have crashed hard, logging a few 8 or 9min miles in the final stretch, and over-shooting goal time. In fact, of the countless splits I have looked at from friends and competitors, only the women’s winner, Mary Keitany of Kenya, posted a negative split (running the first half slower than the second). Everyone else tanked. So thanks dad, glad that wasn’t me. </i><br />
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Cramping in Queens </b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">I was alone, cold and windblown on the Queensboro Bridge! It was slow and awful. I got behind some big guys at times and then finally got pointed downhill as we rolled onto First Avenue. The crowds were back, but I was mostly thinking of my aching legs and the 10 miles to go. Thus began a delicate balance to avoid cramping. I vowed to make it to mile 20 and to not be “the guy on 5th Ave grabbing his hammies”. The course actually has a 1000’ of elevation gain and loss, and surprisingly, I was happy for the dippy little stretch at miles 16, 17, and then some real down downhill at 18, as my legs felt better there than on the flats. By mile 20 the course makes turns to negotiate the Willis Ave Bridge into the Bronx and then quickly onto the 138th Bridge back into Manhattan. I remembered throwing in a little backwards running (I’m not kidding) and some B skips and grapevine moves just to shake up the big muscles a bit more. I made silly faces at the guys behind me but they were trapped in their own pain cage, and just glared back.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Meanwhile, a few minutes up the road, I charged up the unending mountain that was the 59th Street Bridge. While I kept the pace under control, I probably passed 100 runners on the way up, which became a theme. In fact, I think I was only passed by one runner (at mile 26) for the entire race. While NYRR did an awesome job organizing, something is wrong with this picture. Anyhow, we were swept down onto First Ave, where I found my groove, preferring the completely empty right side of the road, where I didn’t have to compete for elbow room. Of course, this made my “CC” tum more visible; I converted the cheers into energy. At mile 18, I was in for a treat, as I spotted one of my best friends, Helen, fellow Eph and cycling teammate, who was wearing our distinctive “Stan’s No Tubes” jacket, along with two identically clad side kicks. She had time to do whoops and dancing twirls before giving me the best high 5 ever. Though my toes were on fire (I am blister-prone), I was confident I could keep this pace as long as my calves behaved themselves!.<i> </i></span><b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">21- Finish </b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">By mile 21 and Fifth Ave it appeared that I’d won the cramping battle and began to move again. I started paying attention to my splits and liked that they were starting with a 6:! At Mile 22, in a rare moment of clarity, I look and see 2:30 and figure there is an outside chance still at sub 3:00. I am also thinking – I really hope I don’t come up on Ceci, this would be horrible and a dilemma – but no sign of her, whew! Mile 23 – not bad, passing lots of people - carnage on 5th Ave as “those guys” are everywhere, off to the side hobbling and clutching. Mile 24, a cruel uphill that you can see forever, but also where you get to FINALLY enter Central Park! Then a roller coaster ride as you plunge mercifully down along tree lined lanes, past the zoo, and towards Central Park South for a right turn with about 2 miles to go. Everything is burning, and you are thinking “how am I going to do this” but also knowing inside that you’ve got it! I am finishing strong but a few others are too and I feed on their energy as we veer out towards Columbus Circle and then back north. Were is the #$^% banner?! Finally, I can see the clock, and the line, cross it, and hit stop at 3:01:12</span><br />
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<i style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">The other half of the duo entered the final 6 miles, thinking of the parting quote from her father, “The marathon is a 20mile warm up followed by a 10k race.” Forcing down a last gel, as I entered Manhattan, I didn’t feel ready to race at mile 20, but I was prepared for the fight to hold on. I was thrilled to spot my coach, Mikael, who hopped on to the street to run with me down 5th Ave. The distracting chat was a blessing, and he left with advise for the remaining miles. I decided my next motivation would be catching girls. I knew top 50 was possible, so I tackled the 5th Ave hill reeling in a girl in a official looking singlet. Soon I’d caught her and then my sights were set on the next. An unexpected girl—my mom!—appeared at 96th Street to add even more encouragement. Central Park is only a blur of a memory, most notable for searing hamstrings and buckling calves. I tried to use all my knowledge of anatomy to recruit any new muscle I could to shift the stress somewhere else. With half a mile to go, a man ran up behind my shoulder, and said “come on, girl, let’s go!” I spotted two more women, and I knew this man was my ticket, so I dug just a bit deeper catching the second one at the line and staggered into the arms of a guy in a red medical jacket. Time: 2:58:35!</i><br />
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Beyond the Line</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">I’m elated, rubber legged, high-fiving the volunteers, and a little delirious. With my medal around my neck I’m prompted forward by dozens of impossibly cheery volunteers (there were 10,000 of them!). Then in a burst, there is hobbling Ceci! She is moving way slower than I am (when it doesn’t count of course), and we hug and scream or something, I really don’t remember. I am so proud, and we are quickly spewing our respective versions of miles 13-26. We literally walk 2 more miles (cruel) to the very end of the 25 UPS trucks for our gear. After delicate maneuvering to put dry clothes on cramping limbs we get our phones. We have only been finished for 20 minutes and Mitch Baker, Ceci’s coach at Williams has texted, and Jennifer, missed calls from Kelly (2), an email from Chris…..they probably all knew our splits better than we did.</span><br />
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">New York Loves You.</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Weird scenes of hobbling runners draped in blue NYCM ponchos drifting down Central Park West; cops on scooters, cops with dogs, cops on horses; volunteers EVERYWHERE in yellow and blue jackets; a guy in full Inca Warrior garb with a massive Mohawk (and finishers’ medal) - and this was before most folks were out of Brooklyn. Where was Kelly? “No way, we said Broadway and 62nd not 52nd!” We squeeze through a dump truck barricade at Columbus Circle and Ceci climbs atop a pedestal at the foot of the the Trump International Hotel, while I trade smart remarks with a cop about poor meet up plans. We see the CVS canopy way down on Broadway where Kelly is, but there are like half of the 1 million spectators between us, so once again, I am tracking Ceci through crowds and minutes later we are reunited with big hugs.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Yelp directs us to Times Square and a hole in the wall with one of the “Best Slices in Manhattan” for pizza. We slip into the lobby of a posh boutique hotel next door for the rest rooms just as a runner is helped through the door, not able to support himself. We emerge cleaned up and the slices live up to their 5 star rating. The sun is shining and it seems like everyone is a marathon fan – and all are asking us about how it went, and praising our efforts like we are celebrities. When I tell them “she was the 16th American woman”, then they really had something to be impressed about! A bit later, the One World Trade Center Observatory the staff gifted us an iPad interactive tour guide. And finally, a random stranger treated to a shared Uber Cab ride back to our hotel! There was a dinner invite as well, but our sticky, achy bodies needed a bath.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">The complex agony of the marathon, and the hassles of mega races, were why I left this behind for the trees, rocks and trails; but If you can get to NYC for the marathon - as a participant, volunteer or spectator, do not pass it up!</span>Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0New York, NY, USA40.7127837 -74.00594130000001839.942317700000004 -75.296834800000013 41.4832497 -72.715047800000022tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-34929086539242741052015-06-24T14:48:00.000-04:002017-06-11T13:37:37.991-04:00Laurel Highlands<div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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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 <i>mails</i> 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.</div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">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.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YFMhfwSJvznGni0bnehGes267Buvw-YayJirldq3BKAcXYxUDzqnGrInmtqIQ01xfIryhHa_Hj4jDrLorNt_Jsoqx60Oz8ggW_N8IzyuPnu461VYrscyKeU_9lSNEYnZMYPNlikL10XF/s1600/unnamed-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YFMhfwSJvznGni0bnehGes267Buvw-YayJirldq3BKAcXYxUDzqnGrInmtqIQ01xfIryhHa_Hj4jDrLorNt_Jsoqx60Oz8ggW_N8IzyuPnu461VYrscyKeU_9lSNEYnZMYPNlikL10XF/s1600/unnamed-7.jpg" /></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">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. </span><br />
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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. </div>
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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!</div>
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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.<br />
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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.</div>
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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!!</div>
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Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0Ohiopyle, PA, USA39.871742 -79.49226060000000939.847367999999996 -79.532601100000008 39.896116 -79.451920100000009tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-91103463922585993872014-03-24T13:56:00.000-04:002017-06-11T13:58:05.883-04:00Barry, Boiled Potatoes and the MiB (HAT Run)<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">
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It was a perfect day to run at Susquehanna State Park in Havre de Grace, Maryland - chilly and foggy in the morning turning to sunshine, and the nicest day we've had since sometime back in 2013, later on. The Susquehanna River is huge where it meets the Chesapeake Bay and is edged by huge 600' bluffs leading down to it's shoreline, which is is how you get 4300' of climbing in a 50k race in the eastern part of Maryland. This is the 26th year for the HAT one of the oldest and largest Ultras on the East Coast (500 runners). </div>
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Risk was the theme of this race, as I made 2 decisions that colored the 4:32 mins I was on the course - 1) to try and race Barry Lewis straight up and 2) not to carry water, and just rely on the aid stations. Barry is a few months my junior, and a guy I have never beaten. Most recently it was at a 5 mile Turkey Trot where he finished one place and a some seconds ahead of me. It should be noted that Barry has run the HAT 20 times, and won it at least once (I said it was about risk!). In regard to risk factor two, it was a cool day and I thought there were enough aid stations that carrying a bottle or pack <i>may</i> not have been necessary. </div>
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The course consists of a 4 mile loop and then 2 loops of 13.5 each - mostly single track dirt trail but some pavement and a dirt road section, and 4 stream crossings! Shortly after the mini loop a group of 3 or 4 gained a few minutes on the next group of 8 or so. I'm in this second group but am pretty sure I don't see Barry ahead - I do see him soon though, trotting along a few places back. And a few minutes later we are chatting on the trail with a few others. For the next 10 miles or so it is comfortable running over the undulating terrain and Barry and I trade places a few times, but also move ahead of the others. We may have been as high as 5th and 6th? In the mean time, I am learning why in a trail race, unlike a road race, relying on the water tables is not such a good idea. I carried some gels and a salt tab and took them on my normal schedule, unfortunately I had to wait for the water to wash them down, and then when I got to the aid station, I probably over compensated, and spent extra time grabbing extra cupfuls. Fortunately, I stashed a hand held at the start/finish so when we got back there at mile 18 I was able to grab it. By then it was starting to warm up and I was feeling pretty dry. It turns out that I was not the only one with GI "issues" as Barry <i>shared </i>at about mile 17, that he hoped he made it to the toilets at the start/ finish. So as we passed the start, he headed one way and I the other to grab my bottle. <br /></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>different year, same sentiment</i></span></td></tr>
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I let myself think for a bit that perhaps I had the advantage now as I was cruising, but also tiring, then along comes Barry, practically dancing past me - I try to stay with him, but he is gone, like a deer up the trail. I guess the break did him some good! That vision was the last I got until he congratulated me at the finish! Barry is gone and my stomach is in a little distress and my legs are getting heavy, letting me know that this might be a good time to ease up. Which I do, but this also allows the first of the guys from behind to catch and pass. Shortly after water crossing #3 the Men in Black come into the picture. One of the MiB passes me up the hill, and then stops apparently waiting for the other guy in the black top. Somewhere around 22-23m they catch me on a long downhill road section. This course is tricky because none of the climbs are big - but they do add up. Also there are two mile long descents on pavement that you pretty much have to take advantage of, but also add to fatigue. Just as we are forming a nice little trio, I catch a hamstring cramp and have to stretch and now am in the rear view mirror of the MiB. Fortunately, it is really the only cramping of the day. But the worst of the stomach problems is yet to come - I am just on the verge of forcing down another Mocha Cliff Shot when gratefully the sign for the aid station ahead comes into view. I am craving salt so ask what they have and guy directs me to the boiled potatoes with the adjoining salt tray - I dip 2 enthusiastically and head off popping the first into my mouth whole. There is so much salt I literally gag and brush off the 2nd as best I can. It's only 5 miles to go now, and I declare to be finished with eating and just sip at my water. <br /></div>
Somewhat surprisingly, my stomach settles out and just when the hills start in earnest again I find my legs too. Good thing as there are a few more guys just behind now. This is also the section with awe inspiring views up and down the river so I made sure to take a look around. I forgo the trouble of rock hopping and just splash through the last stream crossing and am reminded that these paths had snow on them a week ago. Within sight of the finish I get passed by a guy in lime green who looks like a whippet, but he is the last. I think I was 12th place in 4:32 - Barry gained 10 mins over the last 12 miles and was in at 4:22 and was well inside the top 10. The MiB, true to form, crossed the line together in between us. Winning time I believe was 4:11. Everyone figured they ran the first loop too fast. <br /></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">The post race sunshine was sublime, and along with the live music, and Jambalaya with sides of fries, it was hard to leave the park behind for I 95 and the drive back to Philly. </span>Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0Havre De Grace, MD 21078, USA39.5492792 -76.09161700000004239.5003032 -76.17229800000004 39.598255200000004 -76.010936000000044tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-79748148582764932622013-10-03T09:56:00.000-04:002017-03-13T10:02:26.067-04:00Fun But Awful: VT 50My friend Chris said, of the VT 50, that it is fun and awful at the same time. As my first 50 mile race I agree that there was plenty of both.<br /><br />First the technical stuff: No issues with fueling which I was really worried about - I ate gels, Clif Bars, and stuff from the aid tables at a rate of 2-3x per hr in an effort to thwart cramping, which has been a problem for me. I took salt tabs hourly and drank 6 liters of water. All this seemed to work pretty well to keep me energized, hydrated and mostly cramp free. Also no chafing or blisters. Thank you Lulu Lemon for their wonderful sport briefs (tmi I know)! And I wore Saucony Peregrine 3's - a softer shoe than my normal La Sportiva's, but the course was dry and not too rocky - 60% single track with the balance, dirt roads and fields, and I found them easier on my foot/ ankle (see below). I also seriously tapered over 3 wks prior to the race- partly to be well rested and also to rest my ankle that I strained in mid- August. So less mileage and a few less long ones than I thought ideal, but a well rested ankle.<br /><br />The race: the course has over 8000' of climbing, pretty evenly distributed, and the date coincides with leaf season in Vt, so there are lots of views and stunning scenery. The contrast between forest track, dirt roads and fields is also special. The day started cold and foggy, and the scene at the start was surreal. Did I mention this is also a mountain bike race? So there are over 600 cyclists warming up with headlamp beams criss-crossing the parking and and start areas, and reflective clothing glowing in the foggy dark. The bikers go first (with glow sticks marking the first few miles of the course!), and by 6:30, it is light and the 50 mile race begins. My stated goal was a sub 8 hr run, and my (not so) secret one was the age group record of 7:13. The latter demanding a 8:40 pace. An easy start was required, so I settled into a rhythm and let the first 15-20 runners stretch out in front of me. Up the first hill (all of 1 mile into the course!) I joined up with John and chatty Amy, last year's women's winner. One of the advantages of running 9:30 miles during and all day race, is that you can have a conversation. Amy, whose husband was in the lead group up ahead, entertained us w training and racing stories with a bit too much intimate detail about chafing, etc, but it did pass the time. We all got separated at the 2nd aid station (AS) at 12 miles, which I mistook for just a spectator area, so blew past the drop bags, including mine, which was waiting w a resupply of gels, salt tabs, etc...A mile later I realized my mistake, but luckily, since my second bag was at mile 32, I found an untouched package of Clif Blocks on the trail, probably bounced out of cyclist's jersey! John caught back up to me, but we never saw Amy again. We then churned up Garvin's Hill as the fog finally lifted, treating us to a killer view back to Mt Ascutney at the summit, which was also the mile 18 AS. I took what seemed like 5 mins trying to fill and repack my Camelbak and lost John and seemingly the rest of the race as I streaked down the other side in the woods. <br /><br />By mile 22 a new group had formed including John, Ben (a surgery resident from UVM), Joe (HS teacher and Nordic ski coach, and in my age group), and another silent guy in a red top. Ben filled Amy's void, but more like a talk show host, firing questions, and Joe, inexplicably would occasionally just start singing. All this time we were cruising, chatting and the miles were rolling behind us. Ben, Joe and I dropped the others and were moving downhill after the mile 32 AS, where I did retrieve my 2nd bag, and all was looking good, and I was thinking - if I could just beat Joe, maybe the age group record was there as well? Of course, that was silly thought, as just about then, we started a long switch backing climb and my legs started to abandon me. Joe shouted from above, but I knew I needed to back off or the end would be ugly. Now all alone, the course got even steeper - a godsend in a way, as I power hiked up and up, and allowed my legs to recover some. <br /><br />I should note that this day was not strictly a solo effort, as my daughter, Ceci, made the trip from NYC to keep me company and join me at mile 42 as a pacer (pacers are often allowed in latter parts of Ultras). The hill finally topped out onto what seemed like a several mile long stretch of dirt road and I forced myself to run, although at a snail's pace. I should also mention that due to the fog or something, my Garmin was lost in some sort of VT Bermuda Triangle and was tracking way slower than the actual mileage. After a left turn off the endless road, there was a sign for "LJ's", the next station - I asked "how far?", the answer was 42 and my watch was reading 38! My excitement about the bonus miles quickly evaporated when I realized my pacer was no where to be seen. After some rapid fire questions, it was revealed that she had arrived late due to a mix up in the shuttle schedule, and to compound the problem had been misdirected onto the course as the official seemed to think I had already gone past! The pacer was now a rabbit!! <br /><br />I tried to send word ahead via biker messenger, but I ended up passing the couriers. I was energized now, and after another 10 mins, I catch sight of her heading down the path to me! She had caught up to Joe and Ben, who knew I was expecting her, and they told her to go back. The timing could not have been better, as I was dying again. My watch read 6:30 or so with 6-7 miles to go, so it appeared that a good time was still possible, though I kept thinking about what Chris and others had said about how slow the last section could be. It was all forest trail - twisty, turning, up and down - not extreme, but generally inclined. In last year's 50k, I was flying through this section, now I was being cajoled by Ceci to keep my head up and feet moving. The last AS is at 47.5 and just never seemed to come. A brief burst into the now hot sun, we finally see an official who says 3/4 of mile to the station! Maddeningly there is a sign after the table that notes "3 miles to go". Still, it is down hill through a nice meadow -in fact we pass a racer who tells us this is his property(!) (we are now picking off stragglers from the 50k). But then back to the woods and more of what came before. I am cursing, Ceci is prodding, and the watch still shows 7:3x. The last mile is down the now defunct Mt Ascutney ski resort -a zig-zagging, cross slope, ankle crushing downhill - it is hot, and my stomach is starting to hurt. I catch a glimpse of John at the top of the slope above me, and find some sort of kick to take me past the line with the clock showing 7:49:38. Good for 13th place.<br /><br />I was afraid to sit down after the race, for fear I would not be able to get up again, which was not too far from being true. Curiously, the 7 hours and 49 minutes went by quickly, and the race did not seem nearly as hard as I was expecting. It was disappointing to not have legs when I needed them, and no age group record nor even the age group win, though I did finish ahead of all but one person each from the 20-29 and 40-49 brackets among the 228 finishers. Ben and Joe finished together in 10th and 11th; John was 15th, Lisa 18th, both breaking 8 hrs. The top woman was 3rd overall in 7:01, a course record. The men's winning time of 6:09 was also a record. Ceci's XC captain from Williams, Liz Gleason won the 50k women's finishing 3rd overall. <br /><br />It was a great day on a beautiful course, shared with old and new friends. Thanks especially to Ceci, and to many of you on this list for your support and interest in this crazy endeavor.Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0West Windsor, VT, USA43.4858881 -72.48792879999996343.4858881 -72.487928799999963 43.4858881 -72.487928799999963tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7057693884832927318.post-49187335551069079092013-04-30T21:49:00.000-04:002017-03-12T22:01:18.697-04:00Ironmaster's 50k ChallengePine Grove is in Central Pa near Carlisle, in the Cumberland Valley - in the midst of small mountains w beautiful long ridges. There was an 19th century iron furnace in Pine Grove, hence the name of the race. The day was sold out w 400 participants divided into 2 runs and a hike w 116 starting the 50k and a least that number in the 20m which coincided w the 50k. It was a clear cold night and in the low 40's for the 7 AM start. The first mile was up a steep road and steeper trail, but still it seemed achingly slow, so even holding back, I was quickly in 2nd place w the guy ahead pulling away and those behind falling further back. Being isolated early was weird and as it turns out bad luck too, as, when reaching the ridge, I missed the flag and continued down the main trail! I sensed this wasn't right but spotted a ground flag and then one tied to a fence so ran on. After several hundred feet of descending w no more flags, I headed back up. This detour was worth at least .75 mi and 7-8 mins, and by the time I reached the race I was horrified to see that I was buried in the back of the pack! I told myself not to panic, but the situation was quickly made worse by the fact that we entered the famed "Sunset Rocks," a long ridge of boulders that require more scrambling and climbing than running. Trying not to be a jerk I squeezed and clamored past folks as best I could (backpacking in CO was good prep). Once we cleared that task, I could a long line of colorful runners stretching down the ridge.<br />
<br />Suppressing panic again, I told myself that with 27 miles left there was still plenty of time, and now more politely, excused myself, swung off trail and generally made my way through maybe 20 runners over the next few miles. On a long descent with a few more behind me I chatted w a guy who said he thought there still might be 50 ahead (not all running 50k though). As I moved up, I noticed the gear and apparent fitness level of those around me began to look better, and on a big up at mile 10 or so, I got a new (better) estimate of 25 ahead. The views to the valley behind were wonderful and the sun had warmed the day considerably. I was tugging on the camelbak a lot as we finally reached another delightful ridge. Then followed 2-3 miles of gradual descending often skipping back and forth over a nice mossy stream. I blew through CP2, and left a few guys standing around the water table (advantage: camelbak), but had started to cramp a bit on the descent which was worrisome.<br />
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At this point I was gaining confidence and running comfortably (flat=no cramping) but then my poor navigation skills struck again as I missed a junction, this time maybe a quarter mile later I turned back but had lost 4-5 places. I saw folks ahead that I had just passed! Interestingly 2 women (one with bright pink knee highs) must have been moving up behind me as they seem to have jumped in as well. I quickly moved back though and said hi to my "old friends". Then incredibly I went off course again 2 miles later - this time it was an errant line of flags leading to nowhere! This was less of a detour but the women and 1 guy swapped me places again! This is now like mile 18 and I am starting to hurt a bit, but thanks to bananas, salt sticks and electrolyte tabs in the camelbak I'm barely staving off leg cramps. I pass one women again and it is almost laughable at this point. The guy, I see at the mile 20 water stop and he wishes me good luck - like "if you can find the finish!"<br /> <br />It is getting hot and the course starts to climb some wooded rocky terrain. I figure I am top 10, and see 3 up ahead. I pass one on the way and catch the others including Pink Socks at this rocky top with a 1000' view to a lake below. I force crampy legs to descend quicker than they want to, and at mile 23 crossing Pine Grove Rd a guy there tells me I am 6th w the others within 5 mins. I cross a crazy narrow suspension bridge w no sides and hope my legs/ balance are up to it, then hit a long dirt rd but still do not catch sight of the others. The last ascent starts at mile 24.5 and is so steep that I have to walk, and it is nearly a mile long. I have rallied a bit though and my spirits brighten considerably when I see a red shirt high in some rock above, then see 2 others with him. Striding and jogging some, I catch them just at the summit - it is James and Mark, 2 guys who also stayed at the lodge the night before. Mark and red shirt are wasted after the climb, and I tuck in behind James as we descend. At some pt we switch places and near the bottom (mile 28) and then spot the guy in 2nd place on the next small hill. James says he has to walk, so I press on alone and catch the guy, who is now also walking.<br /> <br />I cross Leper Town Rd about a mile later, and wonder about the reference, but then catch a glimpse of someone behind - I assume it is the now revived guy I last passed but also thought I saw pink! I tell myself it doesn't matter and put my head down. I walk up one short steep rise and then focus on getting in. There are a few trekkers also finishing their 15k walk which helps, as it just something up ahead to focus on. By mile 30 it starts to feel less wild and more like the park. In the last .5 miles you cross Rt 233 and are back to civilization and wind past the iron furnace ruin to finish (up the hill!) at the iron master's house. I never saw the winner but made it up to 2nd in 5:31:18. Incredibly, Pink Socks (Megan, age 24) is only 15 secs back for 3rd. And Sara, who I last saw at the rocky summit, is 5th, with blood streaming from a gash in the knee. James is 7th in 5:34:46, and Mark 9th another 5 mins back. An amazingly tight finish for a 5 hr plus race.<br /> <br />I was shattered and my head hurt. I grabbed Advil, a dry shirt and then a sticky bun and began to come back to life. There were sloppy joes and the Roy Pitz Brewery table after that. It turns out the the winner, Greg (5:27:09), made the same same early wrong turn last year! The volunteers couldn't have been nicer and despite not knowing another soul before, walked away with new friends to go with my race medal.<br />
Jeffery Hayeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15292998735440548118noreply@blogger.com0Carlisle, PA 17013, USA40.2010241 -77.20027449999997840.152512099999996 -77.280955499999976 40.2495361 -77.119593499999979