Cassoulet

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. In small oven-safe dish, place some duck fat and an entire head of garlic and place in the oven to roast until the garlic is crispy and the garlic will squeeze out. I made sure the head of garlic was sitting on top of the duck fat so it wouldn’t stick.
3. Heat duck fat in a heavy bottom oven-safe casserole that is oven safe (I used a Le Creuset pot).
4. One by one, brown the Italian pork sausages, bacon, and pork belly. For convenience, I used the Trader Joe’s packaged pork belly, cutting it into about 5 pieces. I took some of the fatty pieces and further crisped them up in the oven in the small dish in which I was roasting the garlic. I set each piece of meat aside.
5. I did not cook duck from scratch. I purchased duck confit from Balducci’s. I picked the meat of the bones and shredded to set aside.
6. In the same pan in which I cooked the meat, add more duck fat and sauté the mirepoix (diced carrots, onions, and celery). I bought this pre-chopped in Trader Joe’s. I did this until they were sweated.
7. Add salt, pepper, and a pinch of each of the spices that were listed in the recipe (I didn’t have all of them, so I just used what I had).
8. Squeeze in the roasted garlic and 2 TBSP of tomato paste and stirred until incorporated.
9. Add the beans. I did not use dried beans and soak them, etc. I used two cans of rinsed white cannellini beans.
10. Stir in the pork belly crispy fat and chopped bacon.
11. Add enough water to cover the beans
12. Nestle the duck pieces, sausages, and pork belly (or whatever meat you were able to find) on top.
13. Cook in the oven at 350 degrees for about an hour. The cassoulet should be simmering. Cook until it basically looks like it is starting to get crispy on top and everything looks incorporated.
14. Turn oven up to 450 degrees and cook for another 15 or so minutes until it looks very crispy on top.
15. Remove and let cool for a bit before eating.

Training Run: Signal Knob and Elizabeth Furnace

MILEAGE OPTIONS:

• On this run, you can get anywhere from 10.4 miles (Section 1 only) up to 28 miles (Variation 1 of Section 1 and the Buzzard Rock Extension of Section 2). 

• If you are looking for something on the shorter side but want to check out both sections, run Section 1 (either the main loop or with Variation 2) and then Variation 1 of Section 2, for about 15 miles. 

RUN SUMMARY:

• Section 1: 10.4-mile loop up to Signal Knob on the Tuscarora Trail, across the top, and then down to the Signal Knob parking lot on the Massanutten Trail, mimicking the final miles of the Ring.  To lengthen this section, add on miles via the pink/purple trails (15.8 miles). If you’d like to skip the rocky descent on Orange (not sure why you would), you can take the white Meneka Peak Trail back to the Tuscarora Trail and reverse your steps back down to Elizabeth Furnace (approximately 10 miles).

• Section 2: 8.2-mile loop headed up to Shawl Gap on Orange, south along the ridge, mimicking the first few miles of the Ring.  The loop ends by running back down to Elizabeth Furnace via the Sherman Gap/Botts Trail.  You can shorten the loop by turning around when you reach Shawl Gap (4.8 miles). You can extend the loop by 4ish-mile by adding an out and back to Buzzard Rock (12.5 miles).

TURN SHEET:

Section 1: Elizabeth Furnace – Signal Knob Loop  (10.4 miles) – Variation 1 (15.8 miles); Variation 2 (10 miles)

1. From the parking lot, run back over the bridge and cut through the trees on orange/blue blaze Massanutten/Tuscarora trail across Rt 678 for 0.2 miles.
2. Left on blue blaze Tuscarora Trail (when it splits from orange Massanutten trail).  Do not turn left on the pink Sidewinder trail or right on the white blaze Meneka Peak Trail. Stay on blue.
   • Variation 1: To add a few miles, after 1.8 miles on blue, turn left on the Sidewinder trail (pink blaze).  Stay on pink for 0.7 miles.  Turn right on Mudhole Gap Trail (purple blaze) and follow for about 3.2 miles until you reach the orange-blazed Tower Access Road (FR 66).  There is a natural water source on the left at Mudhole Gap where you can refill your water. Turn right on the Tower Access Road and run about 3.5 miles where you’ll hit the right turn on Tuscarora Trail (blue blaze).  Keep going straight to pick up step 3 headed to Signal Knob.
3. After about 4 miles, you will reach the tower access road where you’ll pick up the approximately the last 6 miles of the Ring.
4. Turn right on the tower access road, staying on orange for the 1.2 miles to Signal Knob. You’ll need to watch for the left turn from the access road into the woods to stay on orange to Signal Knob.
   • Pro Tip 1: Remember this left turn for the Ring!  It’s easy to miss this turn, especially in the dark, and keep going up the fire road. If you do this in the Ring, you’ll realize your error when you see the building and you’ll need to go back down and find that turn, otherwise it’s a DQ (which has happened).
5. After enjoying the view at Signal Knob, continue north on orange passing to the right of the building by the metal fence and back into the woods.
6. You’ll pass the Meneka Peak Trail (white blaze) on the right after about 1 mile. Keep going straight.
   • Variation 2: If you don’t want to experience the rocky descent on orange (not sure why you wouldn’t!), turn right on the Meneka Peak Trail (white blaze).  After 1.1 miles, turn left on the Tuscarora Trail (blue blaze) and head back down to the initial orange/blue intersection to turn right to go back to the Elizabeth Furnace parking lot.  This variation is almost the same distance as if you simply go down orange, though it will likely be faster.
7. After 2.5 miles, you’ll reach Buzzard Rock Overlook.  It’s a sharp hairpin turn to the right to stay on the orange blaze Massanutten trail for an additional 1.5 miles down to the Signal Knob parking lot.
   • Pro Tip 2: It is really easy to miss this turn, especially in the dark. I have gone straight here and found myself turned around.  Pay attention!
   • Pro Tip 3: You know you’re close to the finish when you pass the large house on the right.  Time to whoop and holler knowing you’re minutes away from completing the Ring!
8. When you get to the bottom, don’t run into the Signal Knob parking lot as you would at the finish of the Ring.  Instead stay on orange to the right of the Signal Knob parking lot (mimicking the start of the Ring) and stay on orange for 0.3 miles until you reach the intersection to turn left on orange/blue.  If you miss this turn, you’ll end up staying on the blue Tuscarora trail back up towards Signal Knob.
   • Pro Tip 4: Don’t miss the turn at the beginning of the Ring!  Some people have!
9. Continue on orange/blue across Rt 678 for 0.2 miles to the Elizabeth Furnace parking lot.  Refuel and hydrate before you start the second section.

Section 2: Elizabeth Furnace – Shawl Gap Loop – Sherman Gap (8.2 miles) – Variation 1 (4.8 miles); Optional Buzzard Rock Extension (12.5-ish miles)

1. Head back out the parking lot and instead of headed back across the bridge to take the road to the exit, turn right to run through the clearing and past the shelter into the woods to stay on orange.
   • Pro Tip 1:  At the beginning of the Ring, you’ll have come into the parking area and need to hang a left into the clearing.  Most times you’ll follow a crowd, but if you find yourself alone, keep an eye out for this turn at the gate, otherwise you’ll end up in the parking lot.   
2. After going up for 2.4 miles, you’ll reach the Shawl Gap intersection (there is a wooden sign).  Turn right on orange/blue blaze Massanutten Trail/Tuscarora Trail on the eastern ridge of Massanutten Mountain and head south for 2.2 miles.
   • Variation 1: To shorten this loop, simply turn back down to Elizabeth Furnace, making this an easy 4.8-mile loop with a fast, rocky descent!
3. Turn right on pink blaze Sherman Gap Trail and descend for 2.7 miles.
4. Turn right on the white blaze Botts Trail and follow it for 0.9 miles back down to the Elizabeth Furnace parking lot.
   • Buzzard Rock Extension: To add about 4 miles to this section, turn left at Shawl Gap (instead of making the right turn on orange/blue). Head out to Buzzard Rock. When you come back, stay straight picking up step 2 to run south on orange/blue.

Signal Knob/Elizabeth Furnace Training Run Turn Sheet

MILEAGE OPTIONS:

• If you want a 10-ish mile run, do Section 1 (variation 1 will get you around 10 miles as well and variation 4 will get you  around 12 miles).
• If you want to get closer to 15 miles, do Section 1 with Variation 2 OR Section 1 followed by a pleasant jaunt up Sherman Gap and when you get to the top, turn around and enjoy the steep, rocky descent back to the parking lot.

[THE FOLLOWING DISTANCES ARE NOT PLANNED FOR THIS WEEKEND]

• If you want around 18-ish miles, do Section 1 with Variation 3 OR do both Section 1 and 2.
• If you want 20-30 miles, do Section 1 and 2 and add the Buzzard Rock extension to Section 2. Get close to an ultra by doing both Section 1 with Variation 3 and Section 2 with the extension.

RUN SUMMARY:

Section 1: 10.4-mile loop up to Signal Knob (with variations up to 17.7 miles)

• Variation 1 (10 miles): If you’d like to experience Signal Knob rocks one more time, turn around at the Signal Knob Overlook and head back down the way you came.
• Variation 2 (15.8 miles): Add on a few miles and experience pink/purple trails, as well as the natural spring at Mudhole Gap.
• Variation 3 (17.7 miles): [Not planned for this weekend] Adds on the gnarly ridge portion of the Tuscarora Trail.
• Variation 4 (12 miles): If you’d like to check out Meneka Peak AND experience Signal Knob rocks in reverse, loop back to orange from the Tuscarora Trail on the Meneka Peak Trail and head down across the rocks.

[SECTION 2 NOT PLANNED FOR THIS WEEKEND]

Section 2: 8.2-mile loop up to Sherman Gap, north along Orange, and back down to EF. You can shorten the loop by turning around at the top of Sherman Lap. You can extend the loop by 4ish-mile by adding an out and back to Buzzard Rock.

TURN SHEET:

Section 1: Elizabeth Furnace – Signal Knob – Tuscarora Trail Loop (10.4 miles) – Variation 1 (10 miles); Variation 2 (15.8 miles); Variation 3 (17.7 miles) – not planned this weekend; Variation 4 (12 miles)

1. From the parking lot, run back over the bridge and cut through the trees on orange/blue blaze Massanutten/Tuscarora trail across Rt 678 for 0.2 miles.
2. Right on orange blaze Massanutten Trail (when it splits from blue Tuscarora trail) towards Signal Knob parking for 0.3 miles.
3. As you approach the parking lot, stay on orange through the woods, staying west of the lot to the north end, where you will then pick up the orange blaze trail up toward Signal Knob.
4. Take the orange blaze Massanutten trail toward Signal Knob. Climb to Buzzard Rock Overlook about 1.5 miles. Turn west (sharp left) to Fort Valley Overlook and continue west on orange.
5. Pass the Meneka Peak trail intersection (white) at mile 4 and continue on the orange trail for 1 mile out to Signal Knob Overlook, 4.5 miles from the Signal Knob parking lot and 5 miles from Elizabeth Furnace parking lot.
   • • Variation 1: Turn around and head back down to the parking lot for a 10-mile section reversing the steps. Skip Steps 6-7. At the Signal Knob parking lot, go through to the other end and pick up the orange trail (or stay in the woods to the right of the parking lot on the orange trail) for about 0.3 miles. It will intersect with orange/blue where you will turn left, picking up at Step 9 to head back to the EF parking lot.
6. Continue on the orange blaze trail and turn right (south) onto tower access road to stay on orange for 1.2 miles to the intersection with the blue blaze Tuscarora trail. At this stage you can continue to Step 7 or instead take Variation 2 or 3.
   • • Variation 2: Add an extra few miles to Section 1 after Signal Knob by continuing on the fire road and then running the purple/pink trail before getting back on blue Tuscarora. Follow directions for Section 1 until section 7 and replace section 7 with these instructions. Do not turn left on Tuscarora and instead continue south on the orange blazed tower access road (FR 66) for about 3.5 miles [do not turn right on orange .3 miles down the trail to go around the reservoir, just keep going on the fire road]. Turn left on the purple blaze Mudhole Gap Trail. [There is a natural water source on the right at Mudhole Gap where you can fill your bottles. This will be important in hot weather!] Follow the Mudhole Gap Trail for 3.2 miles. Turn left on the pink Sidewinder trail and stay on for 0.7 miles. Turn right on blue blaze Tuscarora trail for 1.7 miles before hitting the blue/orange intersection, picking up at Step 8 in the Section 1 instructions.
     • Variation 3: Not recommended for this weekend. See bottom of page for instructions for future reference.
7. Left on blue blaze Tuscarora Trail. Continue on blue for about 4 miles. Do not turn left on the white blaze Meneka Peak Trail on the left or the pink Sidewinder Trail later on the right.
   • Variation 4: Left on blue blaze Tuscarora Trail for about .5 miles. Then turn left on white blaze Meneka Peak Trail and continue for 1.1 miles back to orange (you passed this intersection on the way to Signal Knob). Turn right on orange to head 4 miles back down to the Signal Knob parking lot.  At the Signal Knob parking lot, go through to the other end and pick up the orange trail (or stay in the woods to the right of the parking lot on the orange trail) for about 0.3 miles. It will intersect with orange/blue where you will turn left, picking up at Step 9 to go back to the EF parking lot.
8. After about 4 miles, you will reach an intersection for orange/blue. Turn right on orange/blue blaze trail (or if you parked in the Signal Knob parking lot, stay to the left on orange 0.3 miles to the parking lot).
9. Continue on orange/blue across Rt 678 for 0.2 miles to the Elizabeth Furnace parking lot.

[NOT FOR THE AUGUST 6 RUN. FOR FUTURE REFERENCE ONLY]

Section 1, Variation 3 (17.7 miles): Add an extra few miles to Section 1 after Signal Knob (this replaces step 6/7) by adding a Massanutten Trail – Tuscarora Trail Loop

1. Follow directions for Section 1 until section 7 and replace section 7 with these instructions.
2. Instead of turning left on the blue Tuscarora trail, continue on orange blaze tower access road (Signal Knob FR 66) for an additional 0.3 miles after the blue intersection (1.5 miles on tower access road)
3. Turn right at the bench on orange into the woods. Trail goes west around the Strasburg reservoir for 0.6 miles until it reconnects with the road.
4. Turn right (south) back onto the tower access road to stay on orange blaze Massanutten trail/Signal Knob FR 66 for 2.4 miles (you will pass a left turn on purple blaze Mudhole Gap trail about 2 miles). There is a natural water source on the right at Mudhole Gap where you can fill your bottles. This will be important in hot weather!
5. Right on orange blaze Massanutten trail (look for gate on right) up steep climb for 0.5 miles.
6. Right (north) on blue blaze Tuscarora trail on western ridge of Massanutten Mountain for 3.5 miles (do not continue left on orange at the intersection).
7. At the road, cross and continue on blue blaze Tuscarora trail for about 4 miles. Do not turn left on the white blaze Meneka Peak trail on the left or the pink Sidewinder trail later on the right.
8. Pick up at Step 8 in the Section 1 instructions.

Section 2: Elizabeth Furnace – Sherman Gap – Shawl Gap Loop (8.2 miles) – Optional Buzzard Rock Extension (12.5-ish miles)

1. In the back parking lot, find the trail at the rear left of the southern-most parking area next to the wooden kiosk/sign. Pick up the white blaze Botts Trail and follow for 0.9 miles.
2. Turn left on pink blaze Sherman Gap trail for 2.7 miles.
   • Short Loop: If you want to shorten this loop, just turn around at the top and head back down. Make sure to turn right on white blaze Botts Trail!
3. At the top of the very steep climb, turn left on orange/blue blaze Massanutten Trail/Tuscarora Trail on the eastern ridge of Massanutten Mountain. Follow for 2.2 miles.
4. Left at Shawl Gap, continuing on orange/blue blaze Massanutten Trail/Tuscarora Trail for 2.4 miles back down to Elizabeth Furnace parking area.
   • Buzzard Rock Extension: To add about 4 miles to this section, continue straight at Shawl Gap (instead of making the left turn on orange/blue). Head out to Buzzard Rock. When you come back, just make that right turn on orange/blue at Shawl Gap to return to the EF parking area.

 

My Year on the Trails: Successes, Disappointments, and Lessons Learned in 2018

2018 was my most interesting and rewarding running year to date. I challenged myself and set some overly ambitious goals — many of which I didn’t meet. I struggled with burnout, juggling running with life, and chronic foot pain that restricted my running and racing in the latter half of the year. I finished some tough races, and DNF’d or DNS’d others. And I learned a lot of lessons that I hope to carry into 2019. I’m setting myself new, ambitious goals, planning my redemption at some races, and pushing myself to be more disciplined about my fitness.

In this long post, I’ll share my year of running and highlight some important lessons that I hope will be beneficial to others.

2018 AT A GLANCE

But first, a quick look at my stats for the year, because everyone loves lists and numbers.

• Total Miles: Approximately 1,080 miles. [I say approximately to account for GPS watch glitches and questionable accuracy.] I was hoping to run over 1,500 miles in 2018, but after I started bike commuting in August, I found myself running less (less time, less motivation to run after biking home, etc.). My foot pain led me to take a small break from running in October/November, as well. That said, even though I ran about the same number of miles as in 2017, I only ran 114 times in 2018 compared to 144 times in 2017, which means my runs were, on average, longer. I also biked 607 miles over 78 rides between August and December.
• Elevation Gain: 157,605 feet of gain — by far my most in a year. In 2017, I had only 104,518, even though I ran about the same number of miles, so not only were my runs in 2018 longer, they were more difficult.
• Number of ultra race finishes: Ten, which is the highest number of race finishes in a year for me. My previous best was seven races in 2017. My 2018 ultra races were: ICY 8, Elizabeth Furnace 50k, Terrapin 50k, Bull Run Run 50 miler, MMT 100 miler, Catoctin 50k, the Ring, Potomac Heritage Trail 50k, Devil Dog 100k, and Boyers Furnace 40 miler.
• Number of ultra distance runs: Twelve, including 10 race finishes plus the MMT2 training run and 37 miles at my Reverse Ring DNF.
• Number of DNF’s: Three, at Reverse Ring, OSS/CIA 50 miler, and Grindstone 100.
• Number of DNS’s: Four. I skipped Promise Land 50k, MMB 50k, and MMTR 50 miler, and converted the IMTUF 100 miler to the 30k distance.
• Other races: Backyard Burn Wakefield 10 miler, Ragnar Luckenbach, and Bear Pete 30k.

A STRONG SPRING STREAK

I started the year with one major goal — to finish MMT 100. I had been dreaming about running MMT since I volunteered in 2013. I had signed up in 2016, only to pull out due to work commitments that kept me from properly training. I signed up again in 2017, but big changes in my personal life meant another postponement. 2018 was going to be my year and I was not going to screw it up.

I planned an aggressive schedule to prepare for MMT: ICY-8, MMT2, and Reverse Ring in February; Elizabeth Furnace 50k and Terrapin 50k on back-to-back weekends in March; and Bull Run Run 50 and Promise Land 50k in April. That would leave three weeks of taper before MMT. I knew this would be a challenging schedule, but I wanted to push myself and feel ready for MMT, knowing I did everything I could to prepare. I came into spring 2018 having taken much of November and December 2017 off running to recover from mental and physical burnout after Pinhoti. By January, though, I felt motivated and mentally ready for a big challenge. I jumped straight into a long string of ultras without properly increasing my mileage, which would prove to be great for MMT, but not great for my feet.

First up was ICY-8. ICY-8 is my kind of race — running around in circles until the clock runs out. We had a great group participating in the race and staying at a house for the weekend. We set up a mini camp near the start/finish. It was a freezing cold day — single digit temperatures — and I couldn’t feel my hands or feet for the first loop. Nick and I ran together, which made the time pass quickly. I felt fresh and strong all day and was relieved when I finished with a solid 33 miles in just over seven hours — completing my first ultra since Pinhoti.

I was back! The following weekend, I was at it again, running the MMT2 training run from Signal Knob to Camp Roosevelt. I felt strong again during the run and finished with another solid 31+ miles. It was my first time doing ultras on consecutive weekends, so finishing both runs was a huge confidence boost.

Great group at ICY-8

Chris and I finishing up our ICY-8 journey

Nick joined me for the slog up Habron during MMT2

Marwa, Tracy, and I after MMT2

Leaf-covered trail at MMT2

After one weekend off, I once again found myself in the Signal Knob parking lot to tackle 71 miles at Reverse Ring. That would put me at three ultras in four weeks. Driving to Strasburg on Friday night before the race, I felt I was in over my head and was feeling anxious. At the same time, I felt I should be able to finish the race easily having finished the Ring in 2017 under 24 hours. I have a lot more to say about Reverse Ring separately below, but for now it’s enough to say that even though Reverse Ring did not go according to plan and was a blow to my ego, making it to 37 miles made me feel good about my physical fitness. Full steam ahead.

With two weekends off before another set of back-to-back 50k races, I ran some shorter races. Nick and I traveled to Texas to run Ragnar Luckenbach and I ran 10 miles at Backyard Burn Wakefield. It was a nice change to do some short, fast runs to break up the ultras, though I left those races feeling I was much more talented on really long, slow runs!

Van 2 of our Ragnar team

Waiting for my turn at Ragnar

Next up were Elizabeth Furnace 50k and Terrapin 50k on back-to-back weekends. I went into Elizabeth Furnace 50k feeling confident, but during the run I experienced more mental and physical fatigue than usual. My downhill running and my technical running were strong and I loved the feeling of flying down the trail over rocks. But the climbs, particularly from the fire road onto the Tuscarora Trail and up Sherman’s Gap, and trying to traverse the trails covered in deep leaves, which made it difficult for me to move with any speed for fear of turning my ankle on a hidden rock, were tough for me. I started feeling strange pains in my back, as well. But, I was happy with the race and, of course, psyched to get my “EF 50k” sticker. I was also really enjoying seeing the same faces at these runs. If anything was going to keep me motivated, it was going to be my fellow runners.

The following weekend, Nick and I headed down to camp overnight before Terrapin 50k (he was running the half marathon for the second year in a row). The trip began badly. I had forgotten my contact lenses and spent most of the drive down there on the phone with my optometrist trying to locate a place on the way down to Swoope, VA, where I could  purchase new lenses. Without them, there would be no running of any distance, let alone a 50k. We managed to find some lenses and got down to the start/finish campground later than planned, which stressed me out. It was freezing cold and we ended up having to wear hats, gloves and multiple layers to sleep in the tent.

Come morning, I was in no mood to run. The whiny voice inside my head was making an appearance. As we headed up the first long climb, I felt tired and winded. My legs felt heavy and I didn’t want to be there. Barely four miles into the race, I wondered if I should just run back downhill to the start or perhaps switch to the half marathon distance. But I pressed on and was rewarded with some solid downhill on fire roads. Downhill running is my biggest strength, so I try to take advantage of downhills when I can, but the long slog back up the fire road and the turnaround drained me, especially with the snow preventing me from gaining any traction. I was miserable and wanted to drop. Things turned around on the climb up to Terrapin Mountain. Even though the climb was tough, I was happy to finally be on trails with my beloved rocks and roots! I was so impatient to finish I didn’t bother to stop and take in the view the top. I eagerly made my way down the mountain, finally having some fun. After all that whining and feeling sorry for myself, I finished strong, clocking a decent pace on the final road section.

This kind of race — the ones where your legs feel heavy from the beginning and where you wonder why you are out there — are important elements of my training. If every training run or race felt great, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to strengthen my mental muscles or know I can finish even when I am not feeling good mentally or physically. In a 100 miler when my mind and body are failing, it helps to look back on tough times on the trail and know I can push through.

I was happy to finish

More happy….

Wolfpack at Terrapin

Terrapin 50k left me seriously burned out and questioning my life choices with only one weekend off before Bull Run Run 50 miler. In the two months before Bull Run Run, I had completed four 50k races and 37 miles at Reverse Ring. I had run an ultra five out of nine weekends and burnout had set in.

I opted to stay in the cabins close the BRR start/finish, which allowed me to get some extra sleep. I was stressed out from trying to get out of work, finish packing, have dinner, and get down to Hemlock before check-in ended. For some reason, the 50-mile distance makes me really nervous. With two previous BRR finishes under by belt, I should have felt excited for the race, but instead I dreaded it and doubted I could finish.

The first half of BRR is always difficult for me. It takes me a long time to warm up — usually 20 miles or more — and I’ve always struggled mentally with BRR until hitting Fountainhead aid station for the first time. Oddly, I seem to get my mojo back in the Do-Loop. This time was no different. In the miles before Fountainhead, running the rerouted trail, I wanted to give up. And I cried for most of the white loop. But, as predicted, my mood turned around in the Do-Loop, after I caught up to Eric Thomson just slightly earlier than I had the previous year (sorry Eric). I regained some speed and strength in the Do-Loop and felt more determined as I worked my way through the remaining miles. Seeing Nick and Michael at the Marina aid station and knowing they would be there at the finish improved my mood as well.

Hanging out at the start of BRR

Getting close to Marina north-bound

Finishing my third BRR

My face captures how I felt about this race

I was happy to finish my third BRR after a strong string of spring ultras, but I knew I would need a longer break than planned before MMT. I wanted to go into MMT feeling refreshed and excited, not feeling like the race was a burden or a chore. So, I decided to drop out of Promise Land 50k and just take it easy for a few weeks and try to enjoy running for running’s sake. Some great runs on a work trip to Geneva rejuvenated my spirit.

Looking back, the first signs that my rigorous schedule might be coming back to bite me started at BRR. I had a strange pain on the top left of my foot, close to the ankle. I thought my Topos Terraventure, which I had never worn for more than 50k, had perhaps rubbed my ankle causing the pain. However, during my runs in Geneva the following weekend (a 13-mile run as soon as I got off the airplane and a 10-mile run the following day), I started to notice the pain again while wearing my Altra Superiors. It wasn’t enough pain to change my gait and was a more of a low throb than a sharp pain, so I chose to ignore it.

As MMT approached, I kept running, ignored the pain in my foot, and focused on planning for the race. And I finished! My training had paid off. I managed to troubleshoot the many problems I encountered on the course, including the ridiculously wet conditions. Crossing that finish line at Caroline Furnace was a moment I will never forget. I wrote a long post about MMT, which you can find here.

A half marathon in Geneva

Geneva is one of my favorite places to run

OVER-CONFIDENCE AND POOR DECISION MAKING AT REVERSE RING

Reverse Ring deserves its own section in this blog. I went into Reverse Ring feeling nervous. I think I even said to Nick on the drive down that “I have no business running this race.” At the same time, I was complacent and over-confident. I assumed that, having run the Ring in under 24 hours in 2017, I would have no problem finishing Reverse Ring, even if I had to walk some sections. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I started the race without the necessary respect for the distance or the difficulty of the course, and the mountains punished me for it.

I felt good at the start and mentally ready for the long run ahead. We headed up Signal Knob and I was going at a decent pace, but I was overheating. Feeling cold at the start due to the low temperatures and rain, I decided to wear a new raincoat I had purchased. (Tip: Don’t try out new gear in big races.) It was obvious within 10 minutes that I had made a mistake. I tend to overheat, and the climb/raincoat combo was a recipe for getting too hot. I stuffed the raincoat in my pack and kept moving. I would ditch my raincoat when I next saw Nick. I vowed never to wear the raincoat again. (Tip: Don’t vow to never wear a raincoat without knowing the conditions you’ll face later in the race.)

I fell in with a familiar group, which made me feel confident I was moving at the right pace. But as I climbed off the road section back up the orange trail headed toward Woodstock Tower, the climb left me extremely winded. I kept stopping to catch my breath and soon lost sight of the group. The section felt long and I was passed several times. I began to sense I was near the back of the field, something that hadn’t happened to me in a while. After finishing third female at the Ring, I felt that I should have been further up in the field, and this worried me.

The trails were wet and the leaves were slippery. I became frustrated with my slow pace and started cursing the trail between Woodstock Tower and Edinburg Gap. Every time I tried to pick up speed, I’d lose traction and slip. It had also begun to rain heavily and I became cold and wet. My hands were freezing in my wet gloves. I was wearing my customary $1 poncho (I find the Houdini gets soaked in heavy rain, which makes me cold, and raincoats are too warm), but I was struggling to stay warm and the poncho kept snagging branches, causing me to fidget and keep adjusting my gear. Despite these frustrations, I was still in the mindset to finish the race. I made it over Short Mountain and felt ready to tackle Kerns Mountain.

At Moreland Gap, I had some important decisions to make. Darkness was approaching and the section over Kerns is long and can get cold and windy. I was in so much of a hurry to get out of the aid station and try to stay out of last place, that I made some stupid mistakes. Despite knowing what was ahead, I decided to stay in my running skirt instead of switching to tights, and stick with my arm warmer/Houdini/poncho combination, even though they were all wet (I had already gone through two Houdinis).

Start of Reverse Ring

You can see how cold I am at the start

Still moving

Coming out of Edinburg

I headed up to Kerns, still cursing every step as I slipped on the leaves and rocks. It was on top of Kerns that I began to fantasize about dropping. I was shivering and on my last pair of gloves, which soon became soaked. I tried pulling my Houdini sleeves over my hands, but the sleeves were also wet. My poncho wasn’t keeping me warm anymore. I began to get sleepy and light headed. All I could think of was burger, fries, beer, and being in a snuggly warm bed with Nick. About two-thirds the way over Kerns — about the time you start wondering when the trail is ever going to end — I mentally ended my race.

Apart from the cold, I actually felt good. My legs felt fresh after 30+ miles. When the trail was runnable, I was moving well. But I did not want to be out there, especially when I focused on what lay ahead — something you should never, ever do. It would be 12 hours into the race when I finally hit Crisman Hollow Road and it was about to get dark. I was behind pace and knew I would only get slower. I looked across the road at the trail that headed down Waterfall and beyond and could not fathom continuing. I would have to go 10 miles to Camp Roosevelt in the dark, cold rain. I would then have 26 miles of ridge running to the finish, with only one aid station half way across at Milford Gap. In my mind, that was not only impossible, but wholly undesirable.

At the aid station, Nick was great. He and Jayme Lynn and Tammy and Jeffrey Garstecki did what they were supposed to do. They urged me to sit and eat and then just try to get to the next aid station. But my mind was made up. I sat down, pouted, and started crying and refused to get up. (No, I am not proud of that moment.) In retrospect, I should have gritted my teeth and focused on troubleshooting my problems. I’ve learned from other races that it is worth taking the time to troubleshoot because you will almost certainly make up the time later by making smart choices early on. Nick had my crew bag and I could have requested long tights, a long-sleeved shirt, another pair of gloves, and my previously disavowed rain jacket. I should have asked for a beer or some bourbon. Maybe, just maybe, I could have continued (and even finished), if I had stopped wallowing in pity and done what I needed to do. I’m not a newbie, I should have known better, but the will just wasn’t there.

As is the case with DNF’s (and I’ve had many), it feels good to drop at the time, but regret always sets in the next morning. One of the lessons that I have tried to learn is that in most cases, things will get better. Problems can be solved. Time can be taken to address issues. And you may just finish even when you think it’s impossible. Unless there is some type of injury or physical ailment that literally prevents you from moving forward, you can always continue.

MY SUMMER OF DISCONTENT

I had a solid spring training and was proud of the commitment and dedication I had demonstrated going into MMT. Finishing MMT was a big deal for me, but I felt that training for and running MMT had been a massive undertaking. During the race, I had vowed to never do another 100-mile race. It was just too much. Too difficult. Too much time. Maybe I would stick to the 50k distance. Maybe I just would stop running races, period.

I had previously signed up for IMTUF 100 in Idaho in September. Coming off MMT, I did not want to jump back into training for IMTUF. IMTUF is a difficult race, with over 20,000 feet of elevation gain at an altitude between 5,000 and 9,000 feet. Doing some race comparisons led me to conclude that my sub-35-hour finish at MMT translated into finishing after the cutoff at IMTUF. It would require committed hill training throughout the summer. And I just didn’t have it in me.

I decided that I would train the minimal amount and try to ride the wave of my spring training and MMT fitness and go into IMTUF with a leisurely attitude. I would start the race with no expectations, run for fun, and get as far as I could with no shame of dropping. But as the summer continued, and I started skipping runs so I could just hang out with friends, I knew that starting IMTUF, with almost no chance of finishing and, most importantly, almost no chance of enjoying myself, was just a stupid decision. I had also become concerned about the altitude during a work trip to Santa Fe, when I struggled with the altitude during some morning runs. I realized that racing at an even higher altitude in Idaho was going to be much tougher. So I made the decision to switch down to the 30k distance. I would enjoy my summer without the pressure of training. I would look forward to a fun road trip to Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming with Nick. And we would run the 30k together.

But first, just three weeks after MMT, I had to go back to OSS/CIA 50 miler for redemption. I wondered if I was physically ready to complete a 50-mile race so soon after MMT. My feet were banged up from MMT with the bottoms of my feet still peeling from severe trench foot. I also felt fatigued. I had been doing some running, including a nice 24-mile run around London during a work trip. So, I figured I might as well take on the challenge and see what happened.

OSS/CIA is so weird for me. It’s 50 miles on some of my favorite trails in Prince William Forest. I’ve finished many, many races there, including an overall win at the 24 hour Adventure Trail Run in 2017 during high heat and humidity, and the Devil Dog 100 miler. But for some reason, OSS/CIA just seems really hard. Perhaps it’s the 6pm start and having to try to figure out a different pre-race fueling strategy. Perhaps it’s the heat and humidity (though it hadn’t been a problem for me at the 24-hour race). Perhaps it’s the 13 miles between aid stations (though I’ve had longer stretches between aid at other races). Perhaps it’s a combination of all of these factors. Whatever it is, that race kicks my ass every time.

I arrived at the start and Nick and Michael were there to send me off. Before the race even started I already knew I didn’t want to be there. I started running with a small group, staying close to Eric Thomson. If I’m running near Eric, I know I’m on the correct pace. My legs were feeling okay, but I was slightly concerned by the pain in my foot. About 10 miles in, my stomach started doing somersaults. I had tried a new pre-race meal of tofu, sushi, and miso soup, followed by my customary pre-race chocolate protein shake. Before we got to the first aid station, I made my first of many stops in the woods. I took some Pepto and tried to ignore my stomach.

Things started to really fall apart in the Farm Loop. I don’t know why, but that loop is just psychologically draining. During the loop, it started to pour with rain — the type of torrential downpour that soaks you in seconds. I could barely see in front of me and I was getting cold (after being really hot for the first 10 miles) and my feet were soaked. After running MMT on flooded trails, I was in no mood for another wet race. I came out of the Farm Loop to the aid station and remember feeling really out of it. I grabbed my Houdini and buff out of my drop bag and a few PB&J sandwiches, and kept moving.

I was shivering and my stomach was getting worse. I slowed down, as running just caused me to have to duck into the woods. I considered hitching a ride from a truck when I reached the road crossing on Burma Road, but figured if I was going to drop I should at least try to finish one full loop. So I slogged up Burma Road, making some more pit stops, and got onto the North Valley Trail. I walked to the end of the loop. I was light headed from not being able to keep any food down and unable to run without causing stomach issues. I finished the loop barely under the cutoff. Knowing that a walking pace would not get me to the next cutoff, I decided not to continue. I knew I had made the right choice when my stomach problems persisted into the next day. I tried to focus on feeling good that I had run 26 miles three weeks after MMT. Sometimes it’s good to get a little perspective now and then.

Clearly not excited for OSS/CIA

Next up was Catoctin 50k. I signed up for Catoctin before I decided to drop IMTUF down to the 30k distance. I knew I had to get in some long runs and I know myself well enough to know that the only way I will guarantee long runs is signing up for races. I’m just not disciplined enough to do long runs on my own. It was hot and humid on race day, but with plenty of opportunities to cool down in streams, it was manageable. I struggled with some early climbs, stopping to catch my breath several times, but soon enough found my happy place — rocky downhills! I began to move well and made it to the turnaround about 20 minutes ahead of the cutoff. I was happy to see Nick and Emmy, who became the most popular member of the crew when she wasn’t jumping menacingly at people with beards. The climb out of the turnaround was a slog, but we were rewarded at the top by amazing home-brewed beer. I downed a cup of IPA and felt rejuvenated. I began moving very well, passing a lot of people during the second half. Popsicles from Danny and Amy’s girls were a huge boost as well! The last few miles uphill felt long, but I finished strong and felt good about my race.

Running strong at Catoctin

My “Cat” card

Emmy was a star crew member

Yay the finish line!

After deciding to drop from the IMTUF 100 miler down to the 30k distance, I immediately decided I need to return to the Ring, which I love. A great last long run before the Ring is the Martha Moats Baker Memorial 50k or MMB. I had a great run at MMB in 2017 and felt really strong on the climbs. The week before, however, I developed a kidney infection and felt really ill. My medically trained friends advised me against running in high heat and humidity, when dehydration would already be an issue, when my kidneys were not properly functioning. I opted for a fun camping weekend instead, but felt that skipping MMB really screwed up my training. It meant that between MMT and the Ring, I had only one ultra finish (Catoctin 50k) and two other runs over 20 miles (one loop at OSS/CIA and my London run). Not optimal.

Camping fun replaced MMB

Nick and Michael having fun

Summer was a bit of a wash in some ways, but it was also fun. Though I wasn’t training hard, I was running regularly, including on trails, and enjoying time on the trails with friends. I loved my run around London during a work trip and I ran one of the VHTRC July 4 trifecta runs combined with a camping weekend, a couple of runs with Nick to show him the climb up Signal Knob and Kerns, a Wolfpack run on the AT, and a run with Lauren Masterson at the Priest. Sure, I wasn’t doing committed training for a tough race, but being with my running community and running in beautiful and cool places is what keeps me going.

Epic 24-mile run around London

Trifecta run #3

Nick and I on Signal Knob

Nick and I on Kerns

A great group ran the “rollercoaster” on the AT

Lauren and I running the Priest

The biggest reward from dropping out of IMTUF 100 was being able to register for the Ring, which is two weeks before IMTUF. The Ring is a special race for me. In 2017, it was a personal comeback of sorts, where I proved to myself that I could be strong despite the many setbacks I was experiencing in my life. I had a near-perfect race, finishing under 24 hours as third female and felt mentally and physically good the entire race. I also had a great time with my pacer, Sarah Curtis. She made things fun. Even those damn Signal Knob rocks. Going back to the Ring in 2018 was a no-brainer. However, after a disappointing summer with only one ultra finish, nagging foot pain, and reduced mileage after I started bike commuting in August, I knew that my 2018 race would probably be tougher than 2017.

A quick aside on bike commuting. In early August, I decided to give up my parking pass at work to save money and instead start biking to work. I bought a bike and jumped right into my plan. And I stuck with it. I biked almost every day from the beginning of August until Thanksgiving, after which time work travel and some bad weather put a pause on biking and I switched to the bus. Bike commuting relieved a lot of my commuting stress and I felt I was getting in really good workouts, improving my leg strength, and getting more cardio than I usually would. But after biking from work, picking up my dog from daycare, and getting my bike locked up, I was tired and didn’t feel like going on my run. The extra time to get my gear ready, get to and from work, and deal with added logistics of doggie daycare led me to neglect my running. If you look at my Strava data, you can see a massive decline in weekday runs after September. But I was exercising more often!

Okay, back to the Ring. It was a very hot and humid day and the first 26 miles, with only one aid station halfway providing water and Gatorade, was difficult. I ran out of water three miles before Camp Roosevelt and started weaving around, feeling disoriented and light headed. At Camp Roosevelt, I needed to regroup. Luckily, Chris Kolbosky jumped in to run the next section with me for fun, although it ended up being less fun for him when there was a sudden downpour that turned Duncan Hollow into a small river and when he had to climb Waterfall! I managed to keep a decent pace to Crisman Hollow Road, despite the conditions, but still felt out of sorts. At Crisman Hollow, I was not happy, even though I had crossed the halfway point.

Faking a smile coming out of Camp Roosevelt

Feeling out of it at Crisman Hollow Road

My mood picked up a bit going over Kerns, which was made more interesting by an encounter with a rattlesnake (I saved poor Homer by pushing the snake off the trail with a stick, though I did leave him to face the snake alone as I ran off). Headed downhill into Moreland Gap, I was in a great mood until I felt a sudden, sharp pain on my arm. Something had stung me and my arm started to tighten and swell. At the aid station, I took up valuable time to address the sting, getting some anti-bite cream and medicine (thank you Bob Gaylord), in addition to making sure I was ready for the dreaded Short Mountain section and the coming darkness. The Moreland Gap to Edinburg Gap section took me three hours in 2017 and I knew it would take me just as long this time. It was only made worse by the throbbing pain in my arm.

By the time I reached Edinburg Gap, I was tired. My feet had started to hurt a lot. I grabbed my poles (which I hadn’t used at all in 2017) to help relieve some of the pressure on my feet and kept going. At Woodstock, the pain had worsened. I changed my shoes and socks, hoping it would cause some relief, at least temporarily. I mostly walked the next section to Powells Fort, finding a few places to run, even passing a couple of people — we were all slogging at this point. At Powells Fort, I sat down and propped up my throbbing feet. Putting any weight on them at this point was excruciating. I spent some time whining before forcing myself to get up and hobble on. Nick walked up the road with me until it was time for me to head back into the woods. He was worried about me because I was so out of it, weaving around, fatigued, not making sense, and in severe pain.

At this stage of the Ring, there’s nothing to do but continue. All I had to do was get up and over Signal Knob and back down to the parking lot to the finish. It was slow going at my hobbling pace. You think every set of rocks you cross is the last one, until you reach another. It’s like a terrible nightmare. After I got across the worst of the rocks and made the hairpin turn where everyone gets lost, I knew I wanted to try to run the last couple of miles downhill and try to finish under 25 hours. I must have sounded like a madwoman, though, audibly moaning and crying out in pain and delirium. I was never so happy to finish a race.

My 2018 Ring could not have been more different from my 2017 Ring. I was over an hour slower in 2018 and had significant mental and physical issues. My foot problems and lack of training were catching up with me. Although headed down Signal Knob I swore I would never do another race (not even a 5k), it’s not true. Not doing the Ring is out of the question. I intend to go back every year, no matter what.

Feeling happy at the start of the Ring

Feeling like crap at the end of it

Soon after the Ring, Nick and I headed out to Idaho to run the Bear Pete 30k and enjoy our road trip. What did I learn from Bear Pete 30k? That dropping from the IMTUF 100-mile distance was the best decision I ever made. You would think 18 miles would be a piece of cake, but I struggled with the altitude and the massive climbs on this course. I was light headed and out of breath for at least the first half of the race. The only pleasant part of the race was the last few miles of downhill. Okay, that and the absolutely stunning scenery. The benefit of constantly having to stop and catch my breath was that I took the time to look around me. I was happy that Nick stayed with me because I was paranoid about being alone and encountering a mountain lion or grizzly bear. Nick could have moved a lot faster on the uphills if he had not waited for me, but I was grateful for his company, although I did nearly kill him on the fast downhill at the end 🙂 My friend Deb finished the 100-mile course and I could not have more respect and admiration for her feat, but not once did I wish I had done the 100 miler.

Beautiful views at Bear Pete 30k made the climb almost worth it

Glad to be finished

DOWNFALL IN THE FALL: GRINDSTONE

After the Ring, I was worried about my feet and felt I needed time off. But not doing IMTUF also left me feeling I had an itch that needed to be scratched. FOMO was setting in. I was feeling impulsive two weeks before the Grindstone 100 miler when I decided to enter the waitlist and hope for a last-minute entry. Surely I could finish Grindstone after finishing MMT in the spring and cranking out the Ring in 25 hours, right? Clearly, I did not learn my lessons from Reverse Ring — remember the complacency and overconfidence? I did not respect the distance or the difficulty of the course and thought I could take on this beast of a race with a cavalier attitude.

I didn’t run a single mile in the two weeks before Grindstone. I had made almost no preparations until two days before. I had no crew or pacer. Let’s face it, I was winging it big time — more than I usually do. The other mistake I made (aside from not training or preparing) was not sleeping late the morning of the race, which starts at 6pm. I should have stayed overnight near the race start, which is a three-hour drive away from Alexandria, so I could sleep in and relax. Instead, I got up around 8am because I was antsy to get going. I had eaten a massive breakfast and was sleepy during the drive down. When I arrived, I set up my tent and got my gear together and attended the race briefing. Instead, I should have skipped the briefing and rested as much as possible. I was able to get in a short nap after the race briefing, but it was not enough. It was also hot and humid and I began to feel extremely nervous. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

The race began fine and I felt happy to be part of this amazing community of runners. I was running with a few people I recognized — meaning I was on a good pace. But once we got to the first major climb, I began to fade. I had opted to use my poles, which I rarely do, but they did not help me as I struggled to catch my breath. It shouldn’t have been this tough so early in the race. I soon lost sight of people with whom I would usually be able to keep up. I knew I was going to have trouble making the cutoffs.

My running legs came back after I punched my bib at the top of the first big climb and headed back to the trail. I started to think that if I just stayed focused and kept moving, things would be okay. I tried not to think about the long night, full day, and partial second night ahead. That optimism ended about 20 miles in. The usual pain in my foot had been coming and going, but it had always been manageable in the past, so I wasn’t worried. Suddenly, I experienced a completely new pain, this time in my heel and Achilles. And this was a sharp, stabbing pain, not a throbbing pain.

Ultrarunners know that all kinds of weird aches and pains occur during races. Most of them subside. One part of the body hurts and then another part hurts, and so on. You just push through them and wait for them to go away. This was different. I began limping and relying on my poles to stay upright. Having not experienced this pain before, I worried I had injured my Achilles tendon and could do further damage. A kind runner ahead of me stopped and waited for me because he was worried after hearing me yelping in pain and didn’t want me to be alone. I limped into the aid station feeling defeated and sat there trying to figure out what to do.

Without crew, I felt very alone. I was behind the unofficial cutoff for this aid station and knew that if all I could do was limp, I would miss the first official cutoff at the next aid station. I took some Advil, bandaged my foot with duct tape to stabilize it, ate some food, and decided that I might as well just walk the next nine miles to at least make it past the 50k mark. Maybe I would start to feel better and I didn’t want to act like a little crybaby. I’ve experienced race “miracles” before (at Pinhoti I recovered from being only two seconds ahead of the cutoff at mile 86 to finishing with over an hour to spare). Maybe I’d experience another race miracle at Grindstone.

I set off with another runner who was also reduced to walking, but he soon went ahead of me as I continued to limp on. After a couple of miles, I suddenly stopped. I asked myself what I was doing. Why was I hobbling through the woods in the dark, alone? What was I trying to prove? I stood there and cried. Cried at my stupidity trying to run this race. Cried at my stupid foot. After a few minutes, I turned and hobbled back to the aid station, crying the whole way. I felt ashamed and foolish, but I knew it was more foolish to continue.

A WINTRY MIX: ENDING THE YEAR ON A HIGH NOTE

After Grindstone, I knew I had to take the pain in my foot more seriously. Perhaps it was a blessing that I entered the race and failed spectacularly. Two days after Grindstone, I was in Eric Thomson’s office getting an ultrasound and X-ray. An MRI would follow. Luckily, the tests detected no significant damage or injury (no stress fractures, no torn ligaments, no ruptured Achilles tendon). They did, however, show major inflammation in my foot, ankle, and heel. I had been abusing my feet all year, probably overtraining in the spring, and I had been neglecting the maintenance I should have been doing to support that kind of running. I had done no strength training, no mobility exercises, no cross-training, no yoga. I had started bike commuting in August, which felt good for my fitness, but I had not been taking care of my running body. It had to stop. I started getting help from Jesse Fuller, who has put me on a strength and mobility training plan.

I took much of October and November off, including deciding not to run Mountain Masochist Trail Run 50 miler. I threw in a few short runs here and there to not go completely crazy. I ran the Potomac Heritage Trail 50k in early November and, once again, had severe pain in my left heel for the last 10 miles or so. But other than that, I did no significant runs after Grindstone.

Jesse working me hard

 

I had already signed up for Devil Dog 100 miler earlier in the fall after I found out from my MRI that I had no significant injury. I figured if I could do some training, I could give it a shot. But I decided in November it would be prudent to switch to the more manageable (physically and mentally) 100k distance. I believe I told Toni, the RD, that I would have more success winging a 100k than I would a 100 miler. (I stand by this statement.) The 100k distance has a generous 20-hour time cutoff so I knew that I could finish even if I had to walk a lot of it. And that’s exactly what happened.

I felt very relaxed the night before Devil Dog 100k. I stayed in the cabin and just sipped a beer while reading trashy magazines on my iPad. I was not nervous as I had no expectations. The morning started off fine. I was running at a decent pace, though probably too fast given my lack of training. By the end of the first loop, I had pulled a muscle in my glute and during my second loop, developed a severe muscle pain in my right calf. I was still in pretty good spirits and tried to run as much as possible in the second loop. But I could tell I was going at an uncharacteristically slow pace based on who was around me and who was passing me. Usually this would have bothered me, but with such low expectations, I was mentally prepared to do a lot of walking and only hoped to finish within the final cutoff.

My foot had begun to hurt significantly by the end of the second loop and my tweaked calf muscle was slowing me down. There was no question in my mind that I wouldn’t head out on my third and final loop and complete the race, even though I knew I would walk the entire loop. The third 20-mile loop took me almost eight hours. It was unpleasant to move so slowly. Every section felt like it would never end (more than it usually does). When I crossed the finish line, I was glad I had kept going, but I felt very little accomplishment. I had done what needed to be done. I had traveled 62 miles on foot, at least a third of it at a walking pace. I had also proved that though my foot pain was not going to magically disappear, I could manage the pain.

Happy at the Devil Dog start with Sarah and Tracy

Proving that it’s impossible for me to take a serious race picture

Wishing I didn’t have two more loops

Headed back to the bridge of death on my second loop

I wanted to finish the year on a positive note after a less-than-spectacular performance at Devil Dog, and decided that 40 miles at Boyers Furnace would be manageable, even with lingering foot pain. Besides, I had missed my beloved Massanutten trails and wanted to get back out there. This would be my tenth official ultra race finish in 2018, so although I was nervous about my ability to finish the race, I was determined to complete the distance no matter what.

I’m really glad I decided to put aside my self-doubt and run this race. It was a fun day. I enjoyed the trails and the road sections and I had a decent finish time. I found a really focused place in my head to keep me going (“Don’t think, just move.”). And I managed to keep negative thoughts at bay. I also really loved having Nick out there supporting me, as always, but this time as my husband 🙂

The first 17-mile section on the ridge without aid was daunting, but the miles actually flew by. I tweaked my ankle a few times, causing my foot pain to flare up. At one point, the pain was so severe I worried I might have to drop. But the road section provided some relief and I stayed in good spirits.

Woodstock to Edinburg was slow going because it was hard to find solid footing with so many leaves covering the trail, but I just focused on each step and tried hard not to get frustrated. The final road miles were a lot of fun. I took advantage of the downhill to really let my legs go, which felt great after the slow pace on the trail. But, best of all, I took what had been a mixed running year and ended on a high note.

The starting field at Boyers Furnace

Headed out from Woodstock to Edinburg

Looking a little worse coming into Edinburg

LESSONS FOR 2019

2018 was my strongest running year yet, despite some major disappointments and challenges. I’m going into 2019 with lingering foot pain, but resolved to harness the lessons I learned and give myself some new challenges. I plan to run MMT again. I’ll be less aggressive with the number of ultras in the spring, while focusing on strength training and working on my climbing legs on the treadmill to supplement the weekend runs. I’ll also find ways to not let my bike commuting get in the way of running. Running has to be my priority. I also plan to go back to Reverse Ring. I need to finish that race. And I will need to go back to Grindstone in the fall. After MMT, I’ll take time off to recover instead of trying to jump into a 50-mile race after four weeks (OSS/CIA redemption will have to wait another year). I’ll make sure my mind and body are refreshed to start training for Grindstone. And I will actually train and prepare for that race. I already have an amazing crew lined up to get me to the finish.

So, here are the major lessons I draw from my time on the trails in 2018. I hope I will remember them as I face new challenges in 2019.

• Set yourself big challenges and accept that you might not meet them all. It is okay to DNF or DNS a race, but I would rather have big goals and not meet them than have lesser goals that do not allow me to reach my potential.
• Challenges must be coupled with commitment. If you’re going to challenge yourself, you can’t just hope for the best. You’ll only meet your challenges if you prepare and plan and do the work. Very few people can just wing a race like Grindstone.
• Crappy runs and races are vital to success. Struggling through physical and mental adversity builds the mental toughness you will need in the lowest moments that are inevitable in long, tough races. Experiencing new problems and learning how and when to troubleshoot them, and pushing through mental and physical challenges during a race builds a vast reservoir of experiences from which to draw strength and inspiration when things feel terrible. Another way of saying this is “embrace the suck.”
• Embrace failure. I learned more from my DNF’s at Reverse Ring and Grindstone than from the 10 ultras I completed in 2018 combined. Failure is how you expand and grow. Failure means you challenged yourself, that you put yourself out there, that you tried. But beware of repeated failure. Failure is only positive if it leads to change. Learn the lessons you need to, make the changes required, and try again.
• Don’t be complacent and respect the difficulty of the course. Just because you’ve finished several 100-mile races doesn’t mean you won’t encounter new difficulties and obstacles in other races, including in shorter distances. Finishing the Ring didn’t mean I could automatically finish the Reverse Ring. Finishing MMT didn’t mean I could automatically finish Grindstone. Each race must be respected. Every race — or even the same race in different years — requires something unique to finish.
• Don’t ignore chronic pain. I should have gone to see Eric Thomson in April when my foot pain started. Instead, I ran hundreds of more miles on it, including MMT and the Ring. That was dumb.
• Don’t neglect your body. You can’t just run yourself to success. Strength training, stretching, foam rolling, cross-training, and increasing flexibility are all important for a sustained running career. Would lunges or calf raises a few times a week have killed me? No. A few minutes a day might have avoided an abysmal running season this fall and prevented significant pain.
• Bike commuting is great for physical fitness, for improving how your butt looks, for losing weight, and for feeling like a bad ass. But it can’t replace running. To be successful at running, you need to run, preferably in conditions that mimic your races. Biking the Mt Vernon trail 16 miles a day was not going to get me through Grindstone.

See you on the trails!

 

 

 

 

 

Rocks and Rivers at MMT 100

It’s been almost a week since MMT, and I’ve had time to process it a little bit. This is a race I’ve been wanting to do since I first volunteered in 2013, when I first was exposed to the ultrarunning community. Seeing headlamps come down into Gap Creek in the middle of the night was so fascinating, I vowed I would eventually run the race. Since then, I have crewed and paced twice. I didn’t run it in 2016 because work was all-consuming and so I dropped from the starting list. I didn’t sign up in 2017 because I was consumed with the breakup of my marriage. This year, I knew it was my year.

Course map and elevation profile

Nick and I at race check-in

Wolves getting ready

About to head into the rain

Prepping for MMT

I know I have a reputation for winging it and not really training for races, but I actually do run. I just don’t do high mileage and I don’t follow any plan. For MMT, I trained harder than I ever have, though, running six ultras in a two-month period: ICY-8, MMT2 training run, half of Reverse Ring, Terrapin 50k, Elizabeth Furnace 50k, and Bull Run Run 50 miler. After BRR, I felt really burned out physically and mentally, so decided to skip Promise Land and make BRR my last long run. I took the next five weeks off with only three runs over 10 miles (including two beautiful runs on a work trip to Geneva).

ICY-8. Single digit temps!

MMT2 Training

Morning of Reverse Ring

Trail at Reverse Ring

Still looking good at Reverse Ring

Sprint finish at Terrapin

Wolfpack Terrapin finishers

Wishing I was done at BRR

Burned out at BRR

Happy on Lake Geneva

Also Lake Geneva

As MMT approached, I felt physically and mentally ready. I trusted my training, had prepped well, and knew what I needed to do to complete the race. I also felt confident that my crew and pacers Nick, Jenni, and Lisa would get me through the aid stations efficiently and that Lisa’s experience at MMT would help in the difficult night section.

My crew bin, bag, and binder!

Dealing with Wet Feet

I knew race conditions would be bad because of the heavy rain during the week prior to the race. I felt some comfort having had to contend with wet feet at Pinhoti last November (lots of stream crossings) and with torrential rain at Reverse Ring this spring. (Nick and I talked through how to avoid the problems that had left me with bad blisters at Pinhoti and caused me to DNF half way through Reverse Ring.) Because of this experience, when the full extent of how wet the MMT course would be became apparent, I wasn’t fazed by having to splash through thigh-deep raging rivers or run down trails that had become muddy streams. In fact, I tried to enjoy how the streams cooled my sore feet and took a child-like approach to splashing through water and mud.

Photo credit: Quattro. Duncan Hollow is not supposed to look like this!

Photo credit: Shelly Cable

Photo credit: Shelly Cable

Despite six pairs of socks and three pairs of shoes, however, I could not keep my feet dry and developed bad trench foot by the time I reached Bird Knob. My feet were extremely painful in the last 20-30 miles, and left me with gross zombie feet at the end of the race! Luckily, the blisters did not form until after the race (unlike at Pinhoti), probably due to the multiple sock changes (at Pinhoti I only changed them once).

Wet feet coming into Edinburg

First of many sock changes

Post-race zombie feet!

Problem Solving 

I felt like I did a good job solving problems as they arose with the help of my crew (I took Kimba’s advice in her 2013 MMT race report to heart). Instead of worrying about losing time at aid stations, I focused on the need to resolve issues early, but efficiently. The first problem was bad shoes in the first 12 miles. (I thought I’d kill some shoes with holes in them, covering the holes with duct tape, but the duct tape came off allowing debris to get into my shoes.) Of course, my feet were a continuous issue that required problem solving. Lots of sock changes and assessing when to change shoes. In addition to my feet, I also grappled with some stomach/GI issues in the last 20 miles, even though I’m generally a good eater during ultras.

When I reached Bird Knob, however, I had multiple issues to solve. Lisa and the aid station crew helped me prioritize and deal with each of them: feet (change of socks + Aquaphor), stomach (broth and brown rice), being cold (new Houdini). At Picnic, I had Bob Gaylord assess my disgusting feet. He gave me the all clear, saying “You’ve only got 16 miles to go!” (Thanks Bob!)

The Final Miles

From Picnic to the end, my feet were in tons of pain. But what really slowed me down was my right hip flexor, which had basically stopped working. This meant I couldn’t pick my right leg up off the ground more than a couple inches—a major issue when I still had to climb over rocks on the orange trail between Waterfall and Scothorne Gap and on my second time up Jawbone and down the boulder field to Moreland Gap. (The hip flexor problem also meant I could not walk up and down the stairs at my house!)

Last bridge! Almost couldn’t step up on it!

Limping across the finish!

Final Thoughts and Lessons

In hindsight, I feel like I had a great race, with almost perfect execution despite the bad conditions. I felt mentally good the whole time, physically good for most of the time, and managed to problem solve and efficiently move in and out of aid stations due to my amazing crew. In fact, according to Nick’s timekeeping, my aid station times were quite short. Even when I had to change shoes and gear, I was out under 10 minutes. I spent only six minutes at Visitor Center. I’ve really focused on aid station management since I started ultrarunning because, as someone who tends to be at the back of the pack, I’ve learned that every second counts.

I’m also really pleased with how I maintained a mostly consistent pace through the race, which I think is one of my strengths. I started off slow—when I arrived at Edinburg Gap I was only about 45 mins ahead of cutoffs. I then settled into a better pace and started to expand my buffer—by the time I reached Visitor Center I was 2.5 hours ahead of the cutoff. Then my buffer shrank to 2 hours at Picnic and 1.5 hours at Gap Creek. I finished in 34:39, with 1 hour and 20 mins to spare.

A Debt of Gratitude

I cannot thank my amazing crew enough. My love, Nick, who supported me through many weekends of training, was enthusiastic about my race, and spent tons of time prepping; Lisa, whose experience on the course was invaluable, and whose conversation took my mind off some of the most arduous sections; and Jenni, my dear friend who stepped in at the last minute to pace me from Gap Creek to the finish and whose pep and chit chat stopped me from dwelling on the pain at the end.

My amazing crew at the finish line! (Photo credit: Marisa Amanda)

Jamie and I receiving our buckles!

Photo credit: Marisa Amanda. “WTF”

Thank you also to the RDs and the volunteers. This truly is an amazing race and everyone involved shares in each runner’s accomplishment. I am so grateful to the VHTRC family for their hard work and support before, during, and after the event.

What’s Next

During the tough moments of the race, I swore I would never do another 100 miler, let alone another MMT. Of course, now I’m already training for IMTUF 100 in September and want to return to MMT to see if I can crack 34 hours. MMT has left me feeling reinvigorated and motivated to keep racing and to improve and challenge myself. And I can’t wait.

Love my swag!