Holiday Lake Race Report 2015 (Alexis)

Holiday Lake 50k++

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Appomattox, Virginia

Pre-Race

In 2011, Holiday Lake was my first ultra, my initial interpretations were that it was a fast course, but still different from roads. It is more beautiful than most people give it credit for, sure, there are a number of miles that can be tedious, but in winter much of the outdoors feels grey toned and barren. What the miles of service roads and powerline loop lack  are generally made up for in the miles of trail around the lake coming and going from the state park and start/finish areas.

The trouble I seem to have with Holiday Lake is it's placement on the calendar. It falls in the heart of winter, yes, but it's the proximity of it to what is usually a difficult fall with longer grueling events followed by the holiday recovery period that makes it even harder for me. I haven't gotten quite back into the swing of things before Holiday Lake creeps up on me.

It's with this background in mind that I decided to train differently for this year's race. I decided to 'experiment'. I wouldn't worry about long runs or mileage, but would try to have a more regimented routine, one that would include tempo runs and some other speed. Trouble is, when you haven't been doing much of anything and you jump into speed and tempos, you can quickly become sidelined with injury. Which is kind of what happened to me. I won't go into the nitty gritty details, but basically I allowed my fastest run of the past year to be followed the next day with a similar attempt. Bad move. Que sad music and angry calf.

The experiment to not run long or at high mileage became an experiment to completely fallback on my ability to run a 50k on experience alone. Training was bagged in lieu of healing up, better to be undertrained than injured, when will I ever learn blah, blah, blah...

I was nervous about the lack of training. I was a little sad that I can't squeeze in the necessary training in just a few short weeks. But I wanted sub 5. Still unsure of what the year holds for me, I decided that sub 5 and an hour better than last year would be goals A and B, with option C to PR should I be doing better than I expected.

The week of the race I was less crazy than usual (I think!?). I made one big change end of last year, during Masochist, I decided to trust the runner that I think I am. I think some would probably call that change confidence, whatever it was I hung to it during Hellgate and  I held onto it going into Holiday Lake. I knew certain things, that I wouldn't likely PR, that Annie would perform better if the conditions were optimal and that I would push for a sub 5 if nothing else whether I could actually pull it off or not.

Race Day

Todd, who has committed to running the Beast Series, and I met Frank G., Tommy Cook and Kevin Corell Saturday at 5 a.m. in Lynchburg to drive to Appomattox. I was excited that Frank was going to ride with us. I knew he would be his usual boisterous self and take my mind for the most part away from the race. I was right, the travel time ticked away and before long we had made it to the camp.

We arrived in time for a quick trip to the bathroom, check-in and a few hellos. Not a lot of extra down time, but I prefer it that way. It was cold out, roughly 20 degrees at the start, and I wore the same pullover and shorts I wore the first time I ran here in 2011. I also wore my calf sleeves, but only to keep my soft calves warm, my Hellgate Drymax socks and Hokas. I wore my most favorite Mountain Hardwear vest filled with pepto, Tums, a variety of GU (about 10 in all), wipes, two Ipods and earphones. I had my gloves and hat and my newly purchased Ultra Spire water bottle to cradle but seldom sip for the distance. I took two Pepto and two Tums, more for routine than necessity, and headed to the start.

I always lose people at the start. I can never find Todd. It's always like fumbling in the dark even though I have on a headlamp (my cheap extra from Target). The race always starts just before I am ready. That road always gets me. I hate charging up it, but I also worry about trail positioning, usually I am coming to the conclusion that trail positioning IS important just as I realize I am now in the rear of the pack. (!IN 2016, NOTE: Start further to the front).

I am jockeying for position when I realize I should have readied my iPod from the go but now have to dig around in the 12 packs of GU to get it out. I decide to hold off until after Aid Station 1 for it. The headlamp is useful, I am always glad that I wore it even if for only 20 minutes it serves a purpose. The first few miles tick by effortlessly because I am so busy passing clusters of runners. Rick Gray joked as I ran past that there were many girls in front and I needed to get busy, we laughed but then I did notice there was a stretch of women just ahead, several of them I knew including Anna and Elisa. The miles between the state park and aid station 1 are in my opinion, fun and varied and I am surprised how quickly it seems we get there.

The sun was now coming up and I could make out individual runners ahead of me. I passed by Bethany through here but then had a female fly by me, it's always nice that this happens, keeps the ego balanced and alert. I glanced at my watch, having meticulously made a fueling plan. Before the race it was to consume a GU every 40 minutes the first two hours and then one every half an hour there on out. But I decided after I had started running, that I didn't like GU enough to do that and I would start with one at 45 minutes in and go from there.

Todd had handed me the keys before the race start, he had a cold and figured I would finish the race before him. I was in another place mentally and didn't stow the keys, instead I had them in my hands. I had noticed them only after I was running. I thought about stopping at the suburban and stowing them there but I had already lost enough positioning early that I decided to just carry them. I didn't want to hold them for the whole first loop though and they became, as I neared aid station one, a near obsession. I decided if I saw someone I knew at the aid station I would pass them off.

I got to aid station one in about 38:30, I was happy with that. I saw Chelsie standing up ahead and I asked her to take the keys, which she did. I was running through not stopping because I hadn't eaten or drank when Gina reminded me I was still wearing my cheap headlamp. I hurriedly pulled it off and threw it into her arms and headed on.

This next section, I knew, was fast and thus fun. It's one of the hardest sections in my mind and yet possibly my second favorite. Roughly two miles of single track that weaves along the paved roads that run beside it. I was following a guy I didn't know who was running a beautiful steady pace and so I just held. We came upon little clusters and passed them. About mile five I ran up on Robbie, he said he thought I was ahead but I rather hurriedly answered that I always start in the rear, my frustration  with myself but as soon as I passed him I worried that I had come off rude. I hadn't meant to, I was just expressing my frustration with myself. You must be hangry, Alexis, eat a GU. I did, my first.

I ran on holding what I thought was a good pace, it felt good, in hindsight probably too good, I probably should have been pushing a little more. On the way to the first creek crossing I caught up with Dennis. He was in a good mood, feeling good. He said that Todd was just ahead. This startled me. For days Todd had been talking about running 7:30 hours and just finishing, his cold knocking him further down with each day leading into the race. He had spent the earlier part of the year jeering that he was going to beat me, but the cold had changed all that talk. The news that he was out ahead, when I thought I had been running well, was a shock. I laughed that he must not be as sick as he was acting.

Dennis and I ran onto the second creek crossing where we saw Clifton, he cheered and said I was 7th or 8th female. I am never that far up in the first few miles at Holiday Lake. Almost immediately another female passed by me, followed by another I recognized as running 2nd at Iron Mountain last year, Michelle. I thought about chasing but decided that I was running a pace I felt confident I could hold. I held on hope that they wouldn't be able to hold their paces, that I would catch them in the second loop.

At the start I had given Jamie Swyers a ziploc bag with another two GU and some Tums as she was leading aid station two. I didn't think I would need those things having a pretty stocked vest, perhaps too stocked, but I was touched by her offer. It just feels good to have people looking out for you. I told her I should be at her aid station in 70 or 72 minutes. If I get there before 70 minutes, I told her, tell me to slow down, I am running too fast.

Heading to her aid station I looked at my watch, I was running right on schedule. I realized I didn't have a plan after the aid station for time. But I didn't follow through that thought by coming up with a plan. At aid two I filled my bottle and Jeremy Ramsey said my husband was just twenty seconds ahead. That's what I hear I said. I headed off in hot pursuit.

On the long and semi sloping gravel road that leads away from aid two I caught sight of the bright Hawaiian shirt he had on. I could have given an effort here and ran a little harder to catch him but I chose not to. Todd is generally not very nice when I catch him during a race, he won't for my own benefit, let me run with him, but I decided just to trail him for a while. I decided I would catch him in the power line section.

The course changes made the course easier, we no longer had to run a short but gnarly trail section and some rough, usually muddy service road that made up the previous course, but now a short gravel uphill that I liked and a longer paved road section that I didn't, to get to the power line. There were still two females in sight but again I didn't chase.

I thought for sure Todd saw me when he turned onto the power line section because he picked up the pace a little. I fell back on the power line section, I had thought I would catch him but I didn't. I was passed by a runner and the females ahead pulled out of sight. I went to my music and just plowed along. Before long we were turning towards the stable, crossing the paved road. I ate another GU and drank some water noticing that the bottle was nearly full.

I talked with a runner I recognized from the races but had never met, Jeremy. At aid station three Chelsie asked if I need anything but I had decided to run on through this aid station, my bottle still almost full. She told me Todd was just right ahead, I told her I had been reeling him in for miles, he was running pretty good for a sick guy. But he was making for a pretty good rabbit so I was happy to have him just ahead.

This last four miles of the loop are my favorite at Holiday Lake. The terrain changes every little bit, there is rolling single track, a few steeper hills, a beautiful view of the other side of the lake, rocks and roots. a long set of frustrating stairs, a frozen damn, and then before you reach the turn around my most favorite section of really fast moving single track trail.

Between the sections of single track there is a little climb on double track. I walked because a female ahead walked, and I didn't want to catch Todd before the loop was over. I decided I would slow, that I didn't want to run too fast to get done with this loop, because I wanted to negative split. I looked at my watch and decided that I didn't want to run better than 2:25 the first loop because I couldn't imagine I could run better than 4:50 on this day. I walked again and decided I also didn't want another GU, that I would wait for the turn around and drink some Mountain Dew instead. There is this one section where there is a sharp turn on the double track, Todd and Brian were just ahead, Todd jeered "Why are you running so slow?" I just answered that it was because I AM slow.

I was still reining Todd in when the front runners started to pass by headed back in for their second loop. This makes alertness a necessity in these miles but I love it just the same, I love passing the other runners, cheering their names, seeing where they are at. So many of my friends were doing so well, Frank, Sam, Joe, Mike, Marc, Jeremy, Bethany was behind Martha but they didn't look worn, I knew a race for the win still loomed ahead for them. Just past the bridge, at the make shift steps derived from cut logs, Todd was stopped as if waiting. I'm done, run on and have a good race, he said. I asked him how he was feeling and why he was running so fast. He said he wanted to go out and give it a good effort but that he was feeling pretty bad now, that he would probably run 3 or more hours for his second loop. I ran on not quite believing it, I figured he would maybe hold on better than that.

At the turn around there still seemed to be a few women just ahead, but I couldn't get it straight was I 9th? 10th? 11? Several people said different things. I got to the turn around and Mike had my bag ready. Clifton got it opened and handed me the Mountain Dew. Chey filled my bottle and her son gave me two more GU. I drank what I thought was about 100 calories of the pop, as I figured it was substituting a GU. I looked at the clock, 2:24. Knowing what kind of training I had leading up to the race I was pretty certain I wasn't going to negative split, but I went on out for the second loop still gunning for that sub 5.

Leaving the aid station I felt good, I took inventory. I felt good for having run a 2:24 loop, my legs still felt good, but I just didn't feel strong enough to chase. I kept on cheering for friends who were headed in to finish their loop. My music was still on, but low, and I cheered for each and every runner. Then this Jake Bugg song comes on, and I am thinking about my first HL when Todd and I knew five runners, how I had done the same that day, cheered on each runner as my knee cried for me to stop. This year I seemed to know at least a third, I would call their names when I could, a few I didn't know called my name. It was a distraction but also a gift, I'm lucky to be here, I'm lucky to know so many good people, to feel this good today.

I was running up this little hill and I knew there was a runner just behind me, I assumed the runner wanted to pass so I took to walking and stepped aside for them to pass. It was Brian! We immediately took to talking, about the Beast, about the winter and the training for Holiday Lake, about doing it again this year, will we? Won't we? It was great to have a friend to chat with and the miles passed by easily to the next aid station.

At aid 5 Clifton asked why I wasn't drinking, it was so touching. I wasn't though, so I didn't need to stop at the aid station, I just moved on but Brian stopped. I thought about waiting for him, but then I figured he would catch up. I walked a few steps of the steep hill that leads away from the aid station in this direction, but then I saw Rick Gray up ahead. So I ran on.

Rick is a solid steady runner, I set my sights on him and just went back to my music. At the power line loop section I had gotten close enough to realize he was running with Michelle. I didn't know what place I was in the females but I knew I wanted to catch her but then I didn't run like I wanted to catch her. I was enjoying the day, I was enjoying my pace and my music, the solidarity, the occasional conversations with friends, I felt good. I felt strong. But I didn't or wouldn't run harder. It's hard to explain, but it was like I knew I could run the pace I was running to the end, but I couldn't decide if risking running harder would be smart or would just result in cramping and ultimately a slower time. I went with safe and happy.

I continued to keep my sights on Rick and Michelle though. I started to calculate times for finishing, I still wanted that sub 5. I wasn't sure I could do it, I had to run a 9 minute pace for every mile left in the race. Just run steady I told myself, you can do it. Then I had to stop to pee. Coming up the road I ate a third GU. At aid three/six Jamie brought me over my bag but I didn't need anything out of it, I had just eaten a GU on the slight climb to the aid station and still had another 7 in my vest. She offered me some broth and I drank a little, figuring the salt would be good. They told me I was 9th female but there were females just ahead I could catch. I left, took inventory again. I felt really good, I was surprised and pleased about how good I felt. I was having a good day and there is success in that alone. Just hold off another female and you've secured a top 10, I told myself. That and sub 5 will do for the day.

I ran on but had completely lost sight of Rick and Michelle. I wondered how close behind the next female was. I didn't want to get past in the last eight miles. I mean, I don't ever really want to get passed, it's part of why I start further back. The creek crossing was FREEZING the second time through, I was startled by that, I thought it would seem better the second time through not worse. Not long after the creek crossing I came upon Rick and Michelle. They had been running a very steady pace, I told them so. I passed by but they were eating, I figured they would hold my pace as I had been holding theirs and they did for quite some time after.

Back at my second favorite part of the course, the flat trail that leads from the creeks to the last aid station with Michelle and Rick behind me I thought I would push a little, try to create a little space between us. I didn't sprint but picked it up. I ate a GU and tried to take it serious. It felt good for a while, I looked at my clock, I had just over an hour and somewhere between six and seven miles left to go. I got to the last aid station but Rick and Michelle were right behind me, I had been running for 4:17. Chelsie and Mary Beth asked if I needed anything. I need more time, I said. They said I could catch more runners but I had to go. I drank a cup of Mountain Dew and left. But I was done. I had run a little harder in the previous miles and hadn't felt good, I was enjoying the steadier pace. I was torn though, because I really wanted that sub 5.

Running down the hill from the last aid station my quads quivered slightly, as if suggesting they may cramp. I had four miles to go and about 42 minutes. I decided to play it safe, no more pushing, I would run smart and I would run steady and I would run sub 5 and I would be great with that. That was our plan, now we just had to see it through. I passed a guy who didn't talk and another near the state park who said he felt great but his legs were cramping. I told him I felt about the same. I decided to eat half a GU, there was this whole conversation in my head for several minutes to arrive at this decision, but I decided the smart thing to do was eat HALF of a GU. So that is what I did.

At the state park I saw Rebekah, how I crave consistency, she was just where she had been the year before, she had just arrived she said as I passed. I love how so many friends who aren't running will come out to offer their cheers and support for all of us. I smiled that the Blue Ridge Trail Runners exist, that they were alive and present on that course.

The last two miles were good, I felt strong enough to run all but the last climb. Coming out on the double track I knew I had just over a mile to go, I could see a runner up ahead turn into the final trail section. How that section is such a lovely sight at this point in the day. Hitting the paved road is bittersweet, you only have about six tenths to go to the finish but it's pavement and though it's downhill it's on legs that have run a fairly fast thirty plus miles. I had a little more than ten minutes to go sub 5. I gave it a steady effort until I reached the suburban where I dropped my bottle. Then I ran a little harder.

I didn't PR. I ran 4:54, only two and a half minutes off of my PR from 2013. But I felt good, I just hadn't been able to conjure up a race and part of that was the knowledge that my training just didn't back that kind of day. Looking back I probably felt a little too good, but if I had run harder and cramped I don't know that would have resulted in a faster time overall. I was ninth female, which means for a lot of the day I was running lower down than I thought.  I like running top 10 but going sub 5 was more important to me.

In 2013 I had worried that I hadn't run fast enough, hard enough, but the next morning my body told me I had done well, I woke up sore and tight on Sunday morning. This year I woke up feeling far too good on Sunday. I chose to look at the bright side, I ran just two minutes off of my PR and felt pretty good doing it, so perhaps I can go forward and actually run sub 4:50 someday. So regardless what I said at the finish line, I will be back, most likely next year. What can I say? I liked how quickly 30 miles went by, I liked being strong enough to run sub 5 on what I think has been little mileage and training.

As soon as I was done I headed to the car to get my water bottle and I went ahead and changed clothes. I made it back to the finish line and settled in to cheer other BRTR and other friends in. It's my favorite part, the finish line. And not because I am thankful "to be" done, but for "having" done the race, for seeing so many friends run PRs (and a very many of them did) and many others run their first ultra or their first Holiday Lake or their first Holiday Lake after a long hiatus in which life took them somewhere else for a while. We hung out until our last friend finished, Alicia, who was one of those first five ultra runners I knew who talked me into Holiday Lake in 2011 and whom I chased around on roads that first season. She's now the mom of three very small children. They were there along with their dad, to cheer her in, That look on her face as she ran toward them and the finish line, that feeling, that's the answer.

And now it's time to train for Terrapin.

-Alexis

Hellgate Race Report 2014

Hellgate 100k

Fincastle, VA

December 13, 2014

"Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes." Oscar Wilde

The Week and Days Before

After the Mountain Masochist 50 miler the first of November, I took more time off. No running, doctor's Todd's orders, I went to see my chiropractor more often, give myself an honest attempt at recovery. Instead of running I did a lot of thinking, about what had gone wrong since Iron Mountain, why I was so disappointed about Grindstone and Masochist. At both I had run, at least at some point during, well enough. But overall I was not happy, I was walking away (Ok, limping) with at least a small handful of regrets after each.

After ten days off I started back to running, but I relaxed, I had run so very little between Grindstone and Masochist and had done ok, In the past I have run very little between Masochist and Hellgate and done ok. With my attentions turned to Hellgate and my knees finally feeling some reprieve, I set my sights on acceptance. I accepted where I was, fairly beaten but not broken. With one race left in the Beast Series I decided it was about survival. That isn't to say I didn't want to do well, but I knew ultimately it was about finishing.

The week leading up to Hellgate I didn't run at all. And I thought about Hellgate about as much as I was running. Our two youngest sons were sick, one with a cough and cold and another with a fever and vomiting. I started to worry about becoming sick. Then Todd's mom's stepfather became ill, she wasn't sure if she would have to travel to Indiana to see him, I didn't know if I would have Todd for crew or if he would have to stay behind at home and watch our children. Then on Thursday my brother called, my father who has diabetes and has been suffering with foot trouble all year was going back in the hospital for a fourth time with a bone infection. All this sickness and uncertainty lead me to two things, a near overdose of Emergen-C and the thought that Pam Rickerd had planted, "You don't have to run Hellgate, you get to." I decided I was going to run for my dad who was lying in a hospital bed the future of his foot uncertain.

That wasn't to say I was all together ready. Whenever I did think about Hellgate, especially on Friday, I got nauseous. I was laden with fear, too many to name, but all bearing down on my back. The biggest perhaps was accepting that with the no pacer rule I had to decide how well I thought I could do, and if I thought I could be top 5 I had to plan to run all of Hellgate alone, a first for me. I knew I wanted to do well, that even though the field of women looked strong, I wanted a top 5. I wanted 14 hours. I told Todd I was going to plan to run alone but if I was far enough behind a top 5 at Jennings Creek aid station he could plan to run with me starting at Bearwallow.

After some back and forth Todd and I decided that we were going to skip the dinner and race briefing at Hellgate in exchange for some rest at home before driving up. I love pre-race festivities and find the one before Hellgate to be even more special than most others, however I was using experience of past Hellgates to drive that decision, having fallen apart with fatigue both previous years I chose the comfort of my bed. I slept about an hour before Todd got home from work. I tried again between 7-8 but I just lied there in the darkness thinking of the year I had had, the good and the bad.

The rest of my crew, Opal and Kevin Corell, arrived at our house about 9. They brought pizza, I ate two slices. Todd had also come home from work with pizza, I had eaten three slices. We sat around the kitchen table making final preparations, choosing headlamps, stocking my pack. At a little before 9:30 we set off for Camp Bethel. They gave me the back row of the Tahoe to rest some more.

We said our hellos at the camp, which happens to be the finish line and picked up Sheryl Mawn and Jordan Whitlock to ride over to the start nearly an hour away at the Little Hellgate trail head.  Sheryl and I have run Hellgate the same number of times (three now), she always rides to the start with us. She always listens to me piss and moan the whole way over. This year she joked what was I going to complain about this year. Instead we laughed and talked about her living in Colorado, doing 14ers with Kelly Reece, the time passed quickly and we were there before it felt like we should be.

Horton had joked that the weather was going to make this year's running of Hellgate a sissygate. I wasn't upset to hear this, but when we arrived at nearly midnight at the start the weather seemed much warmer than I would have thought. This made final preparations a little more difficult as now I worried I was overdressed. I swapped my wool cap for a Mountain Junkies beanie, left my Houdini to be stowed in my pack that I was picking up at Petits Gap (aid station 2).

With Kevin's awesome gloves and a bottle stashed with a GU, granola bar and a Nutri Grain bar we headed over to check in and take a few photos. I was feeling fairly good. Standing around with so many friends, running and crewing, in the minutes leading up to midnight, well wishes and hugs, it's part of what makes Hellgate so special. But at the same time, I was just so so ready to START. As usual it felt like this great weight let off just a little when Horton unleashed us at just a minute past midnight.

In the Beginning, the Hellgate Start

The first few miles of Hellgate are rolling, grassy and wide double track and I found my legs right away. Having started near the back of the pack I quickly started to pick up my place in the pack. Usually I start really slow, but for some reason this is never the case at Hellgate. I really can't explain why that is, maybe the dark does it. There were more creek-like crossings in the first three miles this year. By the time we finally made it to the calf deep creek that leads you to aid station one we had already gotten our feet wet at least two or three times.

I had seen Bethany Patterson on the rolling grassy road and had tried to catch her, but she was too fast. I had reminded myself not to run anyone's race but my own and had slowed. But on the road to Petits I saw her once more. I was moving well on the road when my stomach had a sharp shooting pain, it made me walk and grab my side. It was particularly bad gas cramps, probably too much pizza. But it hurt and kept flaring back up, it was to be an omen of the next few hours to come. I reminded myself that it doesn't always get worse, to relax.

I stayed behind Bethany for a ways, I ate the Nutri Grain bar even though my stomach was saying no, but I had vowed to eat both the cereal and the granola bar before aid station two. That didn't happen, the stomach was revolting and getting the cereal bar down was difficult enough. I finally caught up with Bethany and her friend Ryan who I believe has run every Hellgate. She was as friendly to me as ever, which really is something, I had tried to start up conversations with others, and had lost all hope of friendships when Bethany started to talk to me. Sophie caught us and we four continued on to Petits. We got there at 1:25 am. They went on as I stopped to exchange the water bottle for my pack with my crew. Todd yelled at me for not eating, I tried to argue that my stomach was bothering me, he said it doesn't matter you have to eat. I wasn't there long, just to situate my pack.

From one peak to another, the valley in between.

Last year I fell apart with the weather from Petits to Camping Gap. This year, I was going to hold it together. The first mile of trail, though rocky, wasn't too bad. I moved quickly over terrain that scares me, over rocks and around bends. I passed a few runners and made an effort to catch back up with Bethany and Sophie when my head started to itch. I scratched the itch but it just got worse. Soon it was on my neck, then my arms. In addition my stomach went further south, by the time we were on the Terrapin section that leads to Hunting Creek Road my stomach said to get off the trail. I tried but it's single track, there wasn't anywhere to go. I climbed up the steep side of a creek bed, that I didn't realize was a creek bed until midway climbing up, I fell and smashed my finger. I barely got situated in time to use the bathroom. I was itching everywhere. What the hell is going on? I wondered. I put my wipes back in my bra and got back down to the trail, having been passed by no fewer than a dozen runners by this time. The time I had made on the way to Petits now gone.

I was feeling nauseous and itching all over. Hold it together, it doesn't always get worse. I didn't know what was making me break out but I could now feel raised bumps on my neck and see the hives on my arms. I had itched my head so much I had done something that messed up the fitting of my headlamp. I wondered if it was possibly the merino wool top I had won as a door prize at Grindstone that was doing it to me, that maybe sweating had made my skin irritated to it, but my head was itching too. I stopped and took the top off, ever so thankful to have the Houdini in my pack. I started running again and Brian Dibeler passed me, I thought I would stay with him and run but then the headlamp became problem-some from being knocked a little loose with all the itching. Fix problems as they arise, Alexis! I stopped once again, to pull off the side of the trail to exchange headlamps. Finally, with the Houdini on and the new headlamp I was able to run again! I had a small series of issues but had dealt with them without falling apart, give yourself a proverbial pat on the back, Alexis. 

And put your music in. You need it.

I wasn't as warm as before, the merino wool top had been much warmer than the Houdini but the itching was going away so it really did make me think it was the top. I got to Hunting Creek Road not long after and slowed to a walk to eat. I took out some Nature Valley bars, but they were dry and difficult to eat. I ate half of one. I had packed them because they had seemed like an easy source of calories, but they're not if you can't eat them. My stomach was still upset, both needing to stop and slightly nauseous making taking in calories difficult. I decided to let eating go for a while with the hopes that maybe my stomach would settle.

After that first section of trail in this section which is mostly downhill to rolling, you climb on a gravel road all the way to aid station three at Camping Gap. The sky was so clear it was beautiful, the lights off in Bedford I suppose it was, were beautiful to see. I ran much more of this road than I did last year, but probably still walked more than half of it. I knew I wasn't eating but I also convinced myself that I had eaten a lot during the day and my stomach was telling me not to eat, so I was listening. I was still running alright. As the road weaved closer to the top it got colder and the wind picked up, I thanked my crew again for remembering the Houdini. It was a life preserver.

I reached Camping Gap just before 3 am I believe. I was in good spirits. I joked with the volunteers, I drank a little coke, had a small bite of banana and took a cookie as I wished Brenton a good vacation. Leaving this aid station I had seen Dana Kracaw again, I had seen her a time or two over the race so far and when I kind of fell into her pace on the grassy road we started up a conversation. She was super sweet and friendly and I was my usual self, a complainer. I told her about my hives and the stomach trouble, my smashed fingers. She said she had fallen and I noticed then that both her knees were bloody, she said she thought she had broken her finger. Her sharing that made a difference. I had dealt fairly well with my little series of trouble on the Terrapin section between aid 2 and 3 but her smiling face through her fall reminded me that it isn't always what happens to us but how we deal with it that makes a difference.

We talked about races, Dana had ran Ultra-Trail Du Mont-Blanc this summer! There is nothing on my running resume quite that awesome and I immediately thought she was cooler than the air around me, and conceded defeat. Todd had told me at Petits, that even though I was running with the likes of Bethany Patterson and Sophie Spiedel that I was ninth or tenth female. I really accepted that whomever I would like to think I could be, I am just a small town runner and mom, there were some tough as nails women in the field ahead of me, I didn't need a top 5. I would just run the best that I could and let the chips fall where they may.

In addition, Dana could run. I would have to take these little walk breaks, of which I was convinced I needed and she would just keep steadily plowing along. I would occasionally catch up to her again and we would chat and then I would fall behind and listen to my music again for a while, I managed a cookie once. But it was nice, it did help to pass the rolling grassy section to have an occasional friend. The first few miles are downhill in this direction but as you get closer to the turn there is an increase in climbing. It's all relatively rolling, small climbs but that didn't stop me from walking a half dozen times. She pulled ahead on the way to the trail that takes you to Overstreet Falls, and I stopped to use the bathroom again. Very thankful that I stashed wipes in my bra as they were easiest to get to there.

When I caught back up with Dana I mentioned my stomach was bothering me, I felt like a complainer, but there is something about getting that stuff out there that helps me, like the simple fact of telling someone how I am feeling makes whatever is happening that much easier to bear. We talked about Leadville as we covered the final rocky descent to Overstreet Falls and I was so happy for her company as I didn't even notice the usual ankle twisting and turning through here.

On the way up the gravel road I let her pull ahead and tried to eat again, I knew my crew was going to be disappointed in how little I had eaten in the sixteen miles I had gone since last seeing them. I managed two Oreos. I caught back up with Dana and ran a little more with her but then as the road flattened I knew we were approaching Floyd's Field. I was a little down that I was only going to make it there three minutes faster than my 2012 time, but I had struggled some so tried to accept that. I was very excited to see my crew and get some warm food and drink in me.

I got to Floyd's Field at 5:04 am. I saw Todd first and he led me over to the Tahoe where Kevin got out and gave me Mac and Cheese and Mountain Dew. Someone went over and got me Grilled cheese from the Aid station table and Todd said I was seventh or eighth. I said I didn't care I was running with my friend Dana and it was just about finishing the Beast. Todd said I was running well and needed to go catch the girls just ahead. Kevin said "you've won the Beast, all you have to do is keep running."

I looked at him, I was maybe hurt that he didn't remember, didn't realize. "I am not winning the Beast, Annie isn't two hours behind me, she could be right behind me." And then almost in unison, speaking over one another, they told me she had dropped from Hellgate. I honestly couldn't believe it. "Why? What happened to her?" They didn't know, they said they thought she was sick. That Jenny Nichols had fallen badly and was out too. I asked if they were lying to me, it just seemed so unlikely. They seemed a little mad about that, but it had all just caught me so off guard. I knew that the only way that I could win the Beast was for me to have the best day possible and Annie to have a bad day, I didn't think that was likely, not with the way the fall had gone. This news, it just didn't feel right.

They got me back on eating. They told me I wasn't eating or drinking at all from the sight of my pack. I said I am not. I don't feel well. They said it doesn't matter, you need to just do it. Todd said you've drank no water, this pack better be empty when we see you at Jenning's Creek. I could tell he was pretty upset with how poorly I was eating and hydrating. Then I noticed Austin Burling was there sitting in a chair, I said "Isn't he doing the Beast? Why is he in a chair?" It was starting to scare me.

Chelsie and I had made a pact, above all else, we keep moving, you don't stop at Hellgate unless you're going to the hospital. Todd said Austin's pack was busted, he was just changing clothes and he would be on his way. They started walking me away from the aid station and I started to tell them about the wool top and the headlamp, the stomach trouble and they said stop talking, eat and run. We will see you at Jenning's. They turned back, I shouted for them to have my new headphones ready at Jennings. I yelled it again but it was all darkness.

It isn't all bad all of the time.

I had eaten and the news that I might now actually be the winner of the Beast lit a little fire. I started to run. My music and the darkness, an occasional runner. I decided that I loved running behind strangers in the dark. But then I had passed all the runners and was leading the way into darkness alone. I thought of the year that I had had, how I really had been terrified of the dark going into Grindstone, how little it bothered me now. It made going to the bathroom so much easier. Just step off the trail and turn your light out. And I did. Several times through here as the trail was, after two or so miles in, downhill. My stomach turned further south. I'll spare the details, but it was often and it was bad. But I had the experience of terrible stomach trouble in 2012, I knew that even though it hurt I had kept on going then with less on the line. So I would stop, make it quick as I could and keep on moving. It made for a lot of leapfrogging as I would pass and then re-pass several of the same runners.

Through here there is some nice service road that is very runnable and even the double trail just before Jenning's is fairly runnable with a few rocks hiding beneath leaves. The leaves seemed a little worse than I recalled in previous years, but not bad enough to slow you much. I focused on drinking as much water as I could, I knew Todd was seriously disappointed in how little water I had drank, and where as I couldn't really eat I could drink. So I did.

Last year I had a tough patch through here, this year the running seemed smooth. If my stomach hadn't been so upset it may have been my favorite part of the day. I had been having a not so great day but I had been mostly meeting my troubles with ease. I was drinking every couple minutes in an effort to empty the pack. If I have any regrets it would be I wish I had tried to eat a little more here.

I made it to Jenning's at about 6:26 am, my bottom was on fire. I got to Todd and said where is the Tahoe I need Aquaphor. Blake, Kristen, Kevin, and Todd were all there to help, but it was almost like too many hands. They had a little trouble finding the Aquaphor and then they didn't even know where the headphones were yet alone have them ready. I did scold rather unkindly to this, so I tried to follow up with lots of thank yous. They gave me some eggs and mac and cheese, they gave me Mountain Dew and filled my pack, I tried to give them my headlamp but they said I was crazy, it would be dark for another half hour. I guess I've never made it to Jenning's that well, usually I leave at daybreak.

Todd walked with me a few steps from the Tahoe, he told me I wasn't eating, I had to eat. I had to stop and use the bathroom, I told him the stomach trouble was really fighting the notion to eat. He said he didn't care I had to eat. He told me I was just behind a few women, that I had to get moving. He said he didn't think I would need a pacer, I was running well enough. He said this is not a hike, this is a runnable hill, go run it. I ran on, once more into the darkness alone.

I caught Dana again, we had been leapfrogging for hours but I didn't see her after the climb from Jenning's. Then I passed Sophie who I had also been leapfrogging the last few miles. She said she was feeling Ok. The sky started just barely to lighten which was bittersweet. The sunrise usually breaks me at Hellgate, I ran more of this hill than ever before, hoping to make up some time but also in the hopes that the running would ward off the notion to get tired when the sun arrived.

After a climb on gravel road you go around a gate, run some grassy service road and then hit a downhill on more gravel road. I was running the downhill, expecting Sophie to pass by me when this female flies by. She said she had called her boyfriend at 3 am, I had this flashback of Dana and I passing a runner on the grassy road who was on the phone. She said that she had thought about quitting and decided to go on. I told her she looked great, she did. She flew on down the hill. Literally disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. That girl is going to win this race, I thought, there are just so many strong women here, finishing top ten here will be good. Annie is going to change her mind too. It doesn't matter, I reminded myself, you just do what you can, that is all that you can do.

I knew I should be eating, but the downhill made it hard. So I vowed to eat on the climb to Little Cove. But it seemed to take much longer to get from the downhill gravel road to the road that takes you to Little Cove. It was mostly double trail and downhill but it just took a while. I was actually getting hungry. On the road several crews were parked at the turn to Little Cove, I saw mine but they were just there to offer their friendly encouragement, their smiles, they still wouldn't take my headlamp. I said, "Did you see that girl fly through here? She was going to quit in the middle of the night, now she's running so strong she may win!" I really thought this. I started walking just passed the turn so I could eat and Todd and Kevin yelled at me from the turn to run, so I ran a few steps and then stopped and ate the crackers I had been planning on eating.

And I was able to eat them and drink more water, because they are dry. And then I thought about what I had been trying to eat from my pack, I had all of this really dry food, a lot of it I hadn't trained with, and I realized that I am a little bit of an idiot. I ate the whole package of crackers and drank a bunch of water. I ran up the gravel road alternating with hike breaks and I really started to feel better, really for the first time all day. I had a little piece of gravel in my shoe that had been there since before the aid station, I told myself to stop being so dumb and fix the shoe. I stopped and shook the shoe out. I started running again, I stopped twice more to pee. I was hydrating better than ever. I felt good about what I was doing finally, eating, drinking, fixing problems as they arose and it started to reflect in my running. I ran on to Little Cove.

I got to the Aid Station at 8:07 am. Nearly a half hour better than ever before. I started to run right through, they said "it's a long ways to the next aid station, are you sure you don't want to stop?" I stopped and took some soda and talked to the aid station workers, laughed about Horton's sign and the mileage. I left Little Cove in better spirits than ever before. I was 7th female, I had been staying strong through a not so great day and I was feeling better. I ran on towards Bearwallow.

This section was good except that I didn't remember all of the twists and turns, the changes from service road to double trail to single back to double. There was lots of trail and I liked that, I felt good even though the leaves were deep in several spots. When I hit the second section of trail I thought erroneously that I was on the Devil's Trail. I took my Houdini off and wrapped it around my waist and put my head in the game. I passed several runners and was feeling good. Until we hit some double trail again and a gate and I remembered the hell this section was in 2012, that nightmare brought back my memories of this section more clearly. And I realized that was not the Devil's Trail, I am not where I think I am. And that was a little bit of a bummer.

But then I saw more runners up ahead and just focused on reeling them in, passing the time. Then I realized that there was a girl, the same girl who had flown by me just a few miles before. I reeled her in but didn't pass her for a long time, I can't explain it, but I didn't want to leapfrog her, I didn't want to pass her until I felt like I could stay ahead. She had looked so strong, I figured she was just having a low through the leaves and if I passed her she would pass me again, I wasn't sure I could handle the repeated hit to my ego of her passing me effortlessly.  I would get close to her and then back off, like I was playing a game. I ate more crackers. I stopped several times to pee. I gained more on her in the Devil's trail, which was gnarly but not as bad as I remembered from the first year. Really it just seemed longer than I recalled. There was a little creek crossing too, that I remembered but it just felt like forever to get to the paved road. On the other side there is a little bit of climbing to get to the aid station. I was shooting for 10 am to Bearwallow but I think by the time I finally got there it was just a minute or so after. Either way it was was a half hour better than my previous two years of Hellgate, I had survived through my previous years low points mostly unscathed.

Todd was waiting for me as you exit the woods and brought me over to the Tahoe. They had things in better order here. They said I was 7th even though this was a half hour better than I had ever made it to Bearwallow. I had wondered a time or two during the night if I should just let Todd run with me, but now it was the time and there was no question about it, I had to go on alone. Todd said there were two girls just in front, ten minutes ahead, I could catch them both Todd said. They gave me Mountain Dew and Ibuprofen because my hips were really bothering me by this point. They gave me mac and cheese and then a grilled cheese, they said that I had to keep eating. I told them I wasn't going to hit my goal, which had been 14 hours. Todd said yes you are, Kevin said no, you're probably right, but we agreed I could maybe do 14:15. I told them I was OK with that, that I had given my best for the day and I could be happy with that.

As we walked from the Tahoe towards the aid station I felt out of it, I wasn't walking straight and I wondered how I was going to make it all alone. I was a little scared. I left the aid station, several people cheered my name but I was a little out of it like I said. I noticed as Todd and Kevin led me past the aid station table that the female I had been trailing was standing there. It made me nervous to leave the aid station before her, she was going to catch me.

I left the aid station and I threw half the grilled cheese away. Why? Because my stomach, which I have been told is my second brain is just as dumb as my first brain. And the two together could not make a good decision. I started running, now in 6th, sure that the female behind was just on my heels. I ran but was feeling sluggish, but a few minutes later the female behind had still not caught me, the Ibuprofen was working it's way through me, giving my hips a little break from pain, and the food was starting to work. Then I remembered, this section is my favorite. I absolutely love the weaving in and out, in and out as you move from Bearwallow to Bobblet's on really rolling, pretty trail that reminds me of Petits Gap on the AT or even some of Western States. I ran it well, I felt good, I listened to my music and really enjoyed the running. I didn't know how long it would last but I recognized the moment as one to enjoy the trail and the beauty all around me. It was definitely the high of Hellgate.

Then I saw Charlie Peele and Dennis Coan, they cheered and gave me hugs, took my picture and ushered me on. It was really nice to see fellow Blue Ridge Trail Runners just out to see friends on the course, offering their friendly smiles and warm hugs. After I passed them though I lost a little of my energy, I got near the edge of the trail at one point and almost fell. I laughed to myself, at Western States on an edge like this I had dreamed of throwing myself off the side to end the misery, today I was feeling good and almost accidentally taking myself out.

I got on the little rocky dirt road that leads to Bobblets and I began to fade even more. I climbed but I was falling off a bit. I made it to Bobblets and Kevin said I was doing great, I was only 8.5 minutes behind 4th and 5th. This, though I didn't tell them, knocked me down. I needed to know it and yet it was not the news I would have hoped. I thought I had run well from Bearwallow, I had given it a good solid effort. But it had taken me longer than I had hoped, I got to Bobblet's at about 11:30 am.

I'm still not sure what I am looking for, what I want, what I am hoping I will find.

At the aid station I saw Elisa Rollins and Sam Price, they were as friendly as usual, they gave me tater tots, quesadillas and pierogies. I ate some, but not enough, I was glassy eyed and Todd and Kevin were having to answer questions for me. I left and Todd said his good-byes, his plan was to go back for Mike Mitchell. He gave me my plan, I was to take two GU between here and Day Creek and then two more between Day Creek and home.

I started off down the road, the rocky rough downhill. And I was running strong, or so I thought. I caught Mike Pfleiger, another friend from the area pursuing the Beast.  He joked that I always catch him at 50 miles. In my head Hellgate is 70 miles, I'm not saying it is, but it is in my head. When he said that I had this sudden thought that we had so many miles left, I backed off, I let him pull away. The crash that had started on the climb to Bobblet's continued. By the time we reached the trail to the right I was falling apart fast. I hiked and started to let thoughts come in, 6th is great, you're going to finish the Beast, that's what you set out to do today, be happy with that. I was falling further and further back when another runner, I think a pacer, reminded me of Todd's plan, "Don't forget to eat." He said as he passed.

Sometimes, I listen. I took out a GU right then and ate it. I didn't get better instantly but I needed that GU, I was bonking. The poor eating had finally caught up with me. I started to rethink my goals, realizing where I was, looking like 15 hours, 15 hours will be great, I thought. A Hellgate time of 15 hours in the Beast is nothing to be sad about, that's a great Hellgate time. Sixth female is awesome, in this field, with strong women from Washington state to Florida. I will be honored to hold sixth I told myself. I remembered this section, running with Mike Mitchell and Grattan Garbee a few weeks back. I had had a low that day, they had found me sitting by the side of a tree, pulled me up both figuratively and literally. I remember Mike, a fellow BRTR from Lynchburg that day, taking my mind away from all the lows weighing me down that day, all the things the year had promised at the start, the broken dreams, how I had let myself down. I don't think he knew it that day, just how much his presence had lifted me. Saved the run. Saved me from myself. I am always, it would seem, in need of that.

In that final mile to Day Creek I thought of Mike, of those of us from Lynchburg doing the Beast. Friends before but the Beast had forged a stronger bond. On paper the Beast is hard, it's six tough races, 3 closely spaced 50ks in the spring followed by a summer to over-train that leads to one doozie of a fall with a 100 miler, a 50 miler just four weeks later and then the final deal, Hellgate. It's hard on paper, but it's something else entirely in the carry out. It had broken us all, in some way shape or form, the months since Grindstone have been a roller coaster. Not being able to run, when you are a runner, not being able to run when you feel you must, it's like not being able to breathe at times, You have to figure out how to take smaller breathes, be thankful for any air you get. I can't do the difficulty justice, I just can't describe what demons the Beast lets loose, at least the first time through, but suffice it to say, a mile out from Day Creek I knew I would complete the Beast and I thought of my friends that I had the absolute privilege of going through it with and I knew that it would all be OK. "And in that moment I swear that we were infinite."

On the straight away that leads to the Day Creek aid station I saw Kevin standing there in his maroon Moore's sweatshirt. I'm pretty lucky to have such great friends and crew.  It was 1:17 pm. I got to him and he immediately says "You're 2.5 minutes back from 5th place." It's hard to explain, but I hated that news, I had just felt complete and content with 6th place. I had worked between Bearwallow and Bobblets and picked up no time, I had bonked in the forever section and made up six minutes. It kind of made me mad.  "You can do it but you're going to have to run some of the uphill and the other side...well, the other side is going to hurt but you can do it," he said. He gave me some Mountain Dew as we walked to the aid station, he reminded me to eat a GU at the bottom and the top and sent me on my way, I'll see you at the finish he said.

I left the aid station and I walked and ate a GU and thought about what Kevin had just told me. At that moment I didn't feel like working for anything, I didn't feel like going after 5th place. But as I walked I remembered my mantra that I hadn't really followed all day, No Regrets. You will be upset if you don't try, you know you will.  So I ran a little. And then a little more. But I didn't see anyone, maybe Kevin just said that to make you move, I thought, so you would give it everything you have left. I ran a little more but I started to think that it wasn't going to happen. I saw two guys ahead. I ran to close the gap between us but didn't see anyone else.

Then at the 'tavern' there was a big group, three people and some dogs spectating and I caught the two guys and I could see another three runners up ahead. The guy, whose name I can't recall, who had reminded me to eat a GU said "There's a female right there, go get her." I laughed and said I hate this, it's going to come down to this, a downhill. He said she's struggling, she isn't doing the downhill that well. You can get her. What is was really coming down to was this: I had to decide, I had to fight. Though we were near the top I didn't jog or run anymore, I ate a GU I promised Todd I would eat and pooled all the energy I had left as I approached the parkway. I was reeling her in with just the hike, she was suffering, but this was a race, and this was top 5. I thought of Sophie, how she has nicknamed me "The Closer", I had to do it for Sophie, for Kevin, for Todd.

I walked across the parkway, took a deep breath, and ran.

In past years, I always find the strength to hit that final descent hard. I hoped I could do it this year. As I passed by the female I asked if she was OK, she just looked over at me and then away. I felt bad for a moment, but I remembered, this is a race. I took off. I used the first steep miles to pull a lead. Then I backed off in case she turned on the burners I had to be able to have another gear. I didn't want to race out the last two miles but I also didn't want to lose a top 5 either. Run smart. Drink. Run hard enough but not so hard that you can't run harder is she fights. Don't cramp.

It was a little stressful and a little fun. I wanted it now, I wanted the good day, I wanted to tell Todd when he arrived I had fought into the top 5. I had been lying to myself earlier, I wanted it. I just didn't think I had it in me.

The last mile flattens out, it's tough. I slowed down, my stomach was unhappy once more, just get to the finish line. The last stretch always feels like an eternity. But then I was at the finish line and into the arms of Horton's finish line embrace. It felt good. Fifth female, a 22 minute PR, 14:23.

Kevin, Opal and Kristen were there, they got me warm soup and crackers, a coke and warm dry clothes. Clark told me I had won the Beast and I felt almost a little embarrassed, it didn't feel as good as it should. Then Annie herself came over and was so sweet and kind, it made it feel better. She told me I had had a great year and she was really happy for me. It was tough, she had a smile on her face and yet my heart felt broken for her. It wasn't the way I had seen things going, I had gone into Hellgate pretty sure I wanted to push and have a good day but knowing that a good day still meant not winning the Beast. I knew I was on pace, as long as I finished Hellgate, to break the female Beast record, but I figured Annie would beat it too setting what would become the new record. To be in the camp, with the race and the series over, the winner was just so unexpected. Things don't always go the way they should, or you thought they would.

After some warm soup and a hot shower I gathered with friends, Chelsie's crew arrived and then Bethany's. At 4 pm we went outside to see them finish. Chelsie finished Hellgate with a PR and a few minutes later Mike Mitchell, Clifton and Bethany Williams finished. It was really pretty emotional seeing all of our friends who started finish so well and happy. There are certainly regrets scattered around but overall I think in the end there was also a great deal of acceptance.

Mike Mitchell, Chelsie Viar, me and Clifton Williams at the end of the Beast Series.

I have more thoughts but needed to get the race itself out of my head before I can make sense of the other.

Alexis Thomas

Mountain Masochist Trail Run Race Report

Mountain Masochist 50 Miler

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Montebello, Virginia

This was to be my third Mountain Masochist Trail Run (MMTR) having run it the previous two years. But it was a lot different this year. In the past it's been my fall race, all the miles I've put in over the summer and early fall have been leading to this race. This year however, it came 28 days after Grindstone 100. When debating an attempt to complete the Beast series MMTR weighed quite heavily on my decision. I like love MMTR. It suits my strengths, it's long, overall elevation gain, loads of service road, and it's nearby so I can train on occasion on the course.

This year with Grindstone I hadn't run on any portions of the course but twice. I sulked for 27 days after Grindstone about worn down knees and well, really so much more than my knees. By the time MMTR got here I just felt so ready to start. In the days leading up to MMTR I just kept repeating the same thing, I am just so glad it's 50 miles. I knew if it were anything shorter it would be harder on me but the distance played to my advantage, anything longer and I just wasn't recovered enough.

That is until I woke up on Saturday morning. I had a plan. Wake up at 3:30 am, start eating A LOT and get in game day mode. The day had other plans. I woke up at 3:38 stuffed with dread, hungry for absolutely nothing more.

I tried to eat the toast and drink the water. All I could think about was how little I wanted to run, how far 50 miles was. Kevin and Grattan met us at our house. Kevin brought my favorite food, Maple donuts from Dunkin Donuts, and I am so glad he did because if it weren't for my inability to turn down donuts I may have eaten nothing that morning. I took Kevin's advice and lathered my feet with Aquaphor, something a little new but turned out to be a lifesaver for my soft and problem-some feet. We woke Brodie who in celebration of his turning three on the same day was being forced by his selfish mother to endure the cold and wind as part of my crew. I had weighed the options, I needed that little happy guy out there.

We left here just before 5 to head to the start. I was so much less fun than I had hoped. My head started to get to my stomach. It was a long drive. When we got to the start I headed straight out to check-in, I was in such a place of distraction I didn't even recognize Jeremy taking names. I walked back to the suburban and climbed inside. I sat in the dark just willing the time away until the 6:30 am start. I thought, just get 15 miles in, then you will get invested. I was worried about my knees that had not grown silent in the recovery/taper period that followed Grindstone. I was overwhelmed with the weight of the unknown. If someone could just tell me in advance how it all plays out I would be such better company sometimes.

Finally at 6:22 I forced myself over to the start. I also forced a smile. The start line was warm hugs and group pictures, final wishes to friends and then finally the start. I took off along Chelsie and as an illustration of just how much my head was not in it I took off without a water bottle. Seconds later I felt this light shove, Todd thrusting the bottle into my hands.

The first mile was just like it should be, hello Andrew, I saw your name on the list Phil, where are you going Kathie, lots of friendly banter, feet moving swiftly over dark pavement. I gave it a somewhat honest effort to turn the burners on, when Chelsie made a move to go around packs, I followed. When Kathie pushed the pace, I followed, but it didn't feel genuine.

But I ran. And I ate at 7 just as planned. And I tried to fake it, but I've never been to good at insincerity. Kathie caught me just before the loop and prayed with me and then just after Anna, Elisa and Bethany called our names. I took them as a gift, to enjoy the long run in the mountains with friends, then we caught Grattan. We ran a few minutes together but then I felt like I couldn't keep up with them. Relax, it's 50 miles I reminded myself. I came into aid station one at Peavine just behind them with a smile on my face, I had promised Blake that smile, I was here to deliver. He filled my bottle and took my headlamp and encouraged me on.

I caught back up with my group because it was a climb and I am a climber. They all joked that they knew I would catch back up. I didn't offer that I was so much more unsure of that. We hiked and ran at intervals with Elisa setting a strong pace up that hill. When we spotted Clifton up ahead they started yelling his name, I laughed and said "Shh, we don't yell, we chase." I was playing, trying to enjoy my time, make it a game. They didn't come at first but then it was like I had lit a fire I couldn't control, they took off, without me. I could not keep up on the downhill. It was incredibly discouraging. My knees just couldn't take it, my head was certain of it. Trust yourself, I said. I had the same notion at Iron Mountain, to trust the runner that I think I am. I backed off and let them all pull away as incredibly hard as that was. I do not like to be passed, especially by girls, but I had to let them go.

As I watched my fellow Blue Ridge Trail Runners disappear down the trail before me I really wondered where my day was headed. Everything hurt already and I was only 8 or so miles in. My feet, my ankles, my hips. I had been so sure of no pain killers at the start but now looking back I think that was a rather faulty plan. I couldn't descend well so I was passed by several more runners. When Helen caught me on the winding trail I struck up conversation with her, these short conversation over the course of the day were like little treats being served up for me to savor and cherish, and I did my best to do so. I caught Robbie and he was struggling with an issue in his lower leg and wasn't sure he would finish. I told him not to think that way and keep moving. It's so much easier to offer advice than to follow some.

Coming into Dancing Creek I was so happy to be able to see my crew, just their faces alone I knew would lift me. I gave my birthday boy a kiss and swapped bottles with Todd. He started walking with me and telling me that I was right behind a big group and I could catch them, get moving this is your race he urged. He gave me two Maple Cookies and sent me on my way. Robbie left Dancing Creek with me and I got the feeling that he would like to run with me, only trouble was his injury prevented him from running the ups, mine the downs. Our injuries having not been made for each other worked to separate us not much long after.

The next few miles moved by, not quickly but at a steady pace. I stopped to go the bathroom which was the earliest ever at Masochist so I felt good about my hydration for once and struck up conversation again with a runner I had met earlier in the morning.  I came into Parkway Gate and was told once more that the group was still just ahead. I saw Clifton just after the aid station but I couldn't keep his pace on the downhill to the climb. But then I was finally rewarded with my first real climb of the day, the climb up to Robinson. I know that I have masochistic traits because I really love that climb. I caught and passed several of my fellow BRTR on that climb. I had good cause to think they would catch me running back down the other side of it as poorly as I knew I would descend but I knew I had to take it when and where I could.

I turned my music on when it came to descending. It was a distraction from the added pain that was coming down from the descent. It wasn't long before Elisa Rollins and Bethany Williams passed by me. I stayed near them but behind them to Irish Creek.  I was not having my best day but I was running a little stronger by this point. I asked how they felt and Bethany said she felt good but she knew it would grow more painful later. I didn't respond because I was jealous. I am not a perfect person and I started to let thoughts sink in, the what ifs. What if you hadn't run Grindstone? What if you had trained properly for MMTR alone? What if your hips and knees didn't hurt? I finally decided to partake in some pain meds. I let them pull away. I went back to my music. The Indigo Girls came on and helped bring me back to life a little, I listened to that song over and over again letting it take me all the way to the Reservoir.

Coming into the aid station at the Reservoir everything just hurt. My legs were tired, my feet, ankles, knees and hips hurt. I was feeling sorry for myself and in no place to race, I was getting the miles done but not like I wanted and it was getting to me. I gave Brodie a quick kiss and was ushered away almost instantly by Todd. He walked with me and listened to me grovel about my pains for a few seconds then he set into me, it came out so quickly and full of steam I can't remember half of it now. He told me that I was stronger than I was running, that I loved this race and this was my climb ahead. I don't recall everything he said but it was loud enough and powerful enough that a runner beside us said he wished he had him for crew. He said good-bye and told me to run every step to Long Mountain where he would be waiting with food.

I ran a few steps and then hiked. I ran a few more. I was passing by these two guys when I realize that one of them was James Decker. I asked how he was, he said he was fine. He asked how I was, I said I hurt everywhere. He said then how are you passing me? I said I guess I just enjoy pain and suffering. He told me Brodie was awesome and I left him with a smile. I did start to come alive a little then. It wasn't amazing or anything but it was climbing and I do constantly tell myself that I love a good climb so I had to climb. I passed a few people who remarked that I was running well for someone with tape on my knees or who was playing the Grindstone card (yes, I played it.) But the truth was I was starting to become invested, the further I went the more I believed I could do it. Why the hell does it takes so long? Well, if I knew that it wouldn't probably take me so long.

I caught Anna on the climb to Long Mountain. We ran a little ways together. She asked if I had been eating, like she was still on duty from pacing at Grindstone, it made me smile and eat two Oreos. She said she wasn't getting to Long Mountain before 5 hours and that her goal time of 10:30 wasn't going to happen. I get really nervous when people start talking times. I assured her that she could do it, but then started to worry about running a 10:30 myself. We got to take in the magnificent view of the mountains decked out in their full October color and she said she would like to buy that land in the little valley just below the mountain and build a house there. Then she could just sit on her porch and watch other people running 50 milers. The imagery she painted was awesome. But then while I was enjoying myself she kind of said something about seeing me later, basically implying I should run on. So I did. The wind was rough through here. I was just so ready to get to Long Mountain.

I got to Long Mountain in just about 5 hours. That was a little bit of a disappointment having usually made it there in 4:30. Todd and Kevin had a Mountain Dew and PB&J ready for me. I drank as much as I could of the pop and took the sandwich as Todd walked a few paces with me. He told me that I was only ten minutes behind Annie and Sophie and that I needed to get moving. He told me all great and powerful things. But I did not feel great and powerful. I had made it to Long Mountain but now I felt more done than I did at the start. He turned back and told me to eat the whole sandwich and then run every step up Buck Mountain, he would see me at the loop. You're far enough behind I'm probably going to run the loop with you, he said.

I walked along and tried to eat the sandwich but I struggled. The Mountain Dew had kind of upset my stomach just the littlest bit. I ate half the sandwich but couldn't get any more in. I had been eating but I couldn't get the whole sandwich in. I really struggled with eating the sandwich and the time it had taken me to get to Long Mountain. I thought about putting the sandwich in my vest, I thought about just finishing it, I knew I had to eat well to run the last half well. If I couldn't eat well then I would fail.  I finally threw it off the side of the mountain and said "F#%k this race, I'm done!" I had 7 hours, I would just walk it in. And I walked for about 4 minutes. And then I decided that I might not be able to walk every step and finish in 7 hours. I probably had to run a little bit to finish. So I started to run. Then I realized it didn't really hurt more to run over walk, so maybe I could keep running and get done a little sooner.

I ran and walked to Buck. I ran way more than last year when my hiking skills seemed so much more productive than they now seemed. Coming into Buck I didn't feel bad but then I didn't have anything I was running towards, other than the finish line. I know that should be enough, but it really isn't for me. Not at the 50 mile distance.

I came into Buck and there were so many familiar friendly faces: Wade, Freda, Opal, Chey, Rosellyn. Wade filled my bottle and they asked if I wanted broth. When I asked if it was vegetarian they answered as if in chorus, of course it is! I happily took a cup of warm delicious broth with crackers. I was on my way out when Chey's says "Go get em, hunt em down, you've only got 3 or 4 girls and then you're in the top 10." I stopped in my tracks. What? No, I'm not. I honestly thought I was much further down, I really had no idea. But she assured me I was much further up. This excited me, I told her that was the best news I had heard all day. In that moment, I believed I had a fighting chance. I didn't know just how strong those front girls were, but I'm glad that I believed that I stood a chance at that moment because it lit a flame inside me. I took off.

I ran downhill better than I had all day. I started thinking about running away from the girls behind me, closing the gap on the ones ahead. You only have 21 miles left, it was the first time all day I had looked at the distance in terms of 'only'. I started to evaluate how I felt. I felt rough but I had felt this rough for hours and was still moving. I came to the conclusion that I needed to run from this point on with no regrets.

I came into Wiggins Spring and Blake got me more broth with only a slight side of sarcasm. He asked if I had been eating, I smiled and said well, you know me. But I thought about it and I really had been eating pretty decent. And hydrating really well for me. Kim encouraged me on and I left the aid station set on getting to the loop.

I ran and walked the mile and a half with more purpose than I had last year. I met a triathlete from Tech and we ran a ways together. I felt like I got to the loop fairly quickly. It was cold and some mix of rain or snow was beginning to fall. Despite how I felt I was running I felt a little zoned out. Like I couldn't focus on things when I came into the aid station. However, everyone was very encouraging, Tammy said I was doing great and Todd and Kevin seemed to think so too. Todd went into the loop and I thought if you think I am running so great why are coming into the loop with me. He told me a plethora of stories and forced me to eat a GU. He told me I was going to catch a bunch of girls and that I was going to get top 10. I wasn't sure. I wasn't running that well most of the day, but he was so positive and forceful about it.

He yelled at me a lot, but in a way that I need, it didn't necessarily make me move any faster (I was slower in the loop this year than last) but it did make the time go. He told me to eat crackers, I ate a couple. He asked if I ate them all, I said no. He told me I was going to eat a GU every 20 minutes when I left the loop, I said OK. He said you promise me, I said no. It went on like that for a long time, he would ask me questions, he would stop and just wait for me to catch up, he would tell me what I was going to do. But I felt out of it. I couldn't really eat. I couldn't really run. The cold and snow had put out my little flame.

In the out and back to the summit we passed some girls, I figured that meant nothing, the loop is so long. Then I saw Jamie, she was walking downhill, she said come and get me Alexis. Then we passed Annie and Sophie. They were all out in front and it's so hard to know just how far out in front, I couldn't decide if I was going to muster up a fight or not. On the way up to getting the summit we passed two guys one of them said "The Running Couple, right?" That lifted me a tad, even if only slightly.

On the way back from the summit we passed a lot of girls, as usual I thought they're all going to catch me. Todd said you're going to be fine. You're going to take more Tums, Tylenol and Pepto and switch to GU. But then a few minutes later he was stopped on the trail waiting for me to catch up and he says, "You're going to need to catch those girls on a hill. And I mean an uphill because you're downhilling is worse than usual." And it's usually pretty bad. I wanted to yell at him. I felt out of it, I didn't really care about catching anyone just that no one else passed me and I was certain Anna was going to. I just felt like I couldn't run. Then I thought about Kevin. How he wanted to run and he couldn't, I technically could but didn't really want to. I thought about Pam Rickard, that I didn't have to run Masochist, I get to run Masochist. And so I tried to run, because I could.

Somehow we made it out of the loop and I was completely delirious. Kevin, Charlie, Nicole and others were around me, there was some shouting about some Mountain Dew where was it, I needed it. But I couldn't find Brodie and I started getting anxious about that which made Todd anxious and they said he's in the car, it was cold and we've got him in there. Then Todd started walking with me away from the loop telling me that I was going to eat a GU every 25 minutes, which I agreed to that schedule. And then he says there's Jamie. I look up to see Jamie Swyers. All day I had heard how she had been running great, 5th place, 6th place and now she's 100 yards ahead of me. I knew something had happened to her.

I caught up with Jamie and she told me that she was dizzy and lightheaded. I felt bad for her but I was also a little out of it myself and my husband had just told me I needed to go chase down a top 10 which I didn't really think was possible but I was holding on to that no regrets mission so I had to get moving. Joe was there and he wasn't feeling good either. I was able to drag Joe along with me but he kept saying I was sprinting which I am pretty sure I wasn't, I can't even sprint at the track series, but it wasn't long and he fell back. No regrets, run for Kevin. And on to Salt Log Gap those thoughts carried me.

I ran right through Salt Log Gap knowing that there was another aid station in a mile or so. I ran and walked this hill fairly well, I feel like I usually walk the whole thing, this year it was about 50/50. I came into the aid station and David filled my bottle as I passed through. It was 3pm. I told myself I had until 4 to get to Porter's Ridge. I ran as much as I could, I just kept telling myself to have no regrets, to give what I had left, there was only 9 miles to go, 8 miles and so on. I took a GU every 25 minutes and drank as well as I ever have. But I didn't see anyone. I was out there all alone. No one. It was kind of surprising. On the first climb I passed a guy but then didn't see anyone else until the trailer in the woods.

There were two people. I just tried to reel them in. When I got closer I noticed one of them was Sophie. It was almost like she noticed me. I felt like we picked up the pace. I stopped to go to the bathroom a final time for the day (6 times, a record for me!) and then really put the chase on. When I finally caught her she said you're tenth. I said no you're tenth and she said no I am just going for an age group record. I didn't think I was tenth I hadn't passed anyone else but I also didn't want to lose tenth if I had just pulled into it. So I picked it up.

I ran harder than I had ever ran through that section which always feels like 12 miles but really only felt like about 5 on this day. I ran it in 50 minutes. I felt OK about that. I got to the aid station and had my bottle filled one last time. And I took off. There were no more aid stations left. Just four miles between me and the finish. Four mostly downhill miles. And I gave them everything I had. My knees ached, my calves started to cramp but I thought if I was top 10 I couldn't risk losing it. I pushed harder than I have ever pushed on that final section. I remembered last year when Megan passed me, how I probably had more but never bring it. I thought about how rough my first half had been. I thought about that final mile on pavement approaching.

Near the mile marker I caught Mike Pfleiger. We talked about how 28 days wasn't enough, that our legs were tired, still beaten. And yet we were doing it. Soon we would be done. I thought I was tenth. My math skills competing with my delusional brain thought we were on pace for 9:35. I started to cramp in the calves at the fish hatchery because I don't ever run as fast as I was running. I told Mike I was going to fall apart. At the turn Brenton was headed out for Jamie and he said "Way to bring out the guns, Alexis." My calves cramped more and I slowed and Mike slowed too. He could have kept on but he stayed with me, this really touched me. A guy who is running the beast too but he stuck with me that entire final mile. I started to get a little emotional. It was turning into a pretty good day.

Except when we got to the store the time clock was off. Crap, no. That was my math. Ok, 9:50 is not a usual top 10 time...I crossed and Horton says "You're tenth girlie" and Todd gives me this big hug and says "Great job, but I don't think you're tenth. I think you're twelfth." I'm not going to lie. That last four miles was HARD. The whole damn 50 was EXHAUSTING. That moment, when my math was off and my placement was not what I thought, it was not really much fun. But I brushed it off the best I could. Jake Reed helped, he said at least you know that you gave it your all. He's right. With the day I had I am pretty thankful for twelfth.

No regrets. Except maybe a few that first half.

I do know a few things. The LUS is done. There's only Hellgate that stands between me and a Beast trophy.

There may be more, but for now,
Alexis

It's not talent, it's stubbornness.

In 2011, I committed to the Mountain Junkies RNUTS (Roanoke Non-Ultra Trail Series) and decided to run my first ultra. When my first ultra, Holiday Lake, went better than expected I registered for Terrapin and started contemplating the LUS (Lynchburg Ultra Series). With goals bigger than my head I started making plans to train bigger and better than ever, a week later I found out I was pregnant.

With big goals ahead yet no plans to have another baby at the moment, I was faced with making changes to the year's objectives. I dropped to the half at Terrapin but decided that with the anchor event of the RNUTS being at 19 weeks along I could stay the course and finish the Mountain Junkies series. I ran all the races I could in the series through the spring with little training and loads of doubt. In May my body just got bigger, the days I ran more sparse. The week before the series ended with the inaugural Conquer the Cove Marathon and 25k was Memorial Day. I decided that I HAD to run that 10k held on the Monday following Memorial Weekend to give me the mental confidence that I could in fact finish the 25k the following Sunday for which I was registered.

Alicia who was pregnant with her first child agreed to run the 10k with me. All went fairly well, it was hot and it hurt but we finished. I felt pretty good about myself. My time was slow but now I would know that I could finish the 25k that Sunday. But walking around the award ceremony after my left foot began to hurt. As the day wore on the pain just grew greater. The next day I could not bear weight on the foot. I began to worry that my foot was broken. By Wednesday I was convinced of it.

When that evening came and I couldn't walk across my back deck without tears I decided to go see a doctor. The doctor took one look at my belly and looked at me with that look of sympathy saved for one who you see as not that bright, pity perhaps? He told me that I had gained too much weight,too quickly, had probably just bruised the foot badly from running on it with all that extra weight. He said I would be fine, but DO NOT RUN anymore this pregnancy. I kind of decided at that moment, that as a general rule I have a general distaste for some people.

I told no one about the doctor visit other than Todd. I told no one about the intense pain in my foot other than Todd and my sister. I KNEW people would agree with the doctor. I knew that people would tell me exactly what it was I did not wish to hear, do not run on Sunday. Skip the race! I knew that rational people would all agree, just sit it out!

But I am just too damn stubborn to be told what to do. My sister pleaded with me not run if the foot was hurting. I changed plans once again. I decided that if the foot felt ANY better by Saturday I was going to run on Sunday, even if I absolutely trashed the foot in the process I would know that I finished what I started and that I would have a good 20+ weeks left that I could recover. If the foot was still hurting as much or any worse as the week wore on I would skip the race. I don't know if I would have stuck to that plan but thankfully I didn't have to. The foot felt a little better by Saturday.

I ran the race that Sunday, it was slow. To put it in perspective, I almost ran the marathon this year in the time it took me to run the 25k that year. But I did it. I finished it. Did the foot hurt? Yes, but I managed. Did I ever regret it, running? Toeing the starting line? Not even close. It was that day, about five miles in I had one of the most moving experiences I have ever had on trails. I was running along this really beautiful rolling patch of the course and I just felt, despite the pain in my foot, the aches in my ligaments, incredible. Just almost transcendental. Invincible. And I had this thought to myself, you were made for this, Alexis. This is where you belong. And I believed that voice, had utter confidence in what it said. And I have never looked back.

I'm in a little bit of a tough place right now. Both of my knees hurt, they hurt walking, going up the stairs, sitting for long periods. The days I run are sparse once more. I am full of doubt. I am full of worry. I have signed up once more for a series, the Beast.

Last night Grattan asked sympathetically if, due to the pain in my knees, I was going to run Masochist. I am doing the Beast I told him. Funny, I don't even look to starting as an option, it will just be so.

-Alexis

Let's Be Honest

"I once heard the worse thing a man can do is draw a hungry crowd,

tell everyone his name with pride and confidence but leaving out his doubts. I'm not sure I bought those words, when I was young I knew most everything. These words have never meant as much to anyone as they now mean to me." -Those Avett boys

I went for my first post Grindstone run last night. Well, the first run out of doors. I attempted to run on Monday in the basement on the treadmill that came last week to replace the old and broken one. Two minutes in and I was no longer sure of anything, twenty minutes later, after alternating between walking and running breaks, I called it a day.

So I went for that first official run, with peers and some pressure, high on Aleve and sunshine. Mentally it was all I had hoped for and more, I was just so damn happy to be running again after an eleven day interruption (what some may call rest or recovery) following the situation (what some may call a 100 miler). Physically however, it was a bone crushing disappointment. The first half of the run I kept up with the group, but it was flat to downhill. However, as the distance wore on my knee wore out until I had to back way off. I ended up walking it in at the end. I don't regret going, it was a much needed run even if it was painful at the end.

Let's be honest. I know what I signed up for, I signed up for something they call The Beast. I didn't expect it to be easy. I just didn't expect it to be so damn depressing. I didn't expect to feel so unbeast like, so frail, so weak. I accepted the little bit of depression, I even allowed it a few days to run it's course, then I asked it to leave. We had a good day or two.

Afternoons are the worst actually, generally about the time I would be lacing up my shoes for the afternoon run, eating a slice of toast for a snack. Now I am barefoot, hungry. I can recognize what's going on but it's getting rather hard to shake off the doom and gloom. I just want to go for a run. Is it so much to ask for it to be relatively pain-free? Maybe so. I don't know.

Today the knee pain is back to where it was a week ago, but being obsessive as well as impolite I keep finding myself wanting to test it, a squat here, a quick jaunt up the stairs. It's nagging me and so I almost feel compelled to nag it back.

Sad truth is the self and I had even done a little pep talk before Grindstone, that there may not be any running between now and Masochist. I don't know who we had fooled. Turns out, it wasn't either of us.

I am trying really hard to be happy, to see the good. I know it could be worse. I know there are still a few weeks still to heal. That there is more than running, so much more. I know all of these things but sometimes, they only stand to make the darkness that more painful, that I know I should be less crazy and yet sometimes just can't help it.

Truth is I like Masochist. It's one of if not my favorite races we do. It suits me, lots of service road, lots of climbing. The realization that I am not going to have a good day is eating away at me more than it should. I really want to shake the dark cloud, go in with an open mind and a heart to finish but the back of my mind there is this screaming about my knees.

Why can't they just get with the program?

-alexis

Grindstone 2013/2014

My official finishing time was 28 hours and 29 minutes, but it took me almost two years to get to the start line. The journey was so long and convoluted that it is hard to know where to begin telling the story, and by the time the race was over time was behaving so abnormally that it was hard to keep track of, so I will pick my favorite place to begin telling the tale, right in the middle. Try to keep up.

***

I woke up from a short nap, just about 10 minutes, disentangled myself from the thin tarp I had used as a make-shift sleeping-bag, and put my shoes back on. The wind was fierce and cold, but the aid station workers had a wonderful fire surrounded by chairs filled with other lost souls much like myself. Everyone struggling to find a reason to leave such an inviting location and venture back into the cold and the darkness and uncertainty. I wandered drunkenly to the aid station table and grabbed a handful of hot food before returning to the only empty chair by the fire. Why would anyone ever leave this aid station, I wondered.

But before I finished the food in my hand my answer arrived. I heard her talking before she noticed me sitting there, and I realized two things. First, she was feeling as tired and defeated as I was after climbing up Little Bald Mountain. And Second, that I was actually feeling much better after my nap and a hot meal. So my race wasn't over after all, and now Alexis was here and I would run with her. This solitary moment of clarity lifted me high enough to shake off my dark cloud and finish Grindstone in a relatively good mood.

I listened to her explain how she felt, and I advised her to take a nap like I had. That it made me feel better, and that I would wait for her and run with her through the rest of the night. As she curled up in that tarp by the wood pile Decker arrived, plopped down in a newly opened chair, and began to entertain and amuse all of those around him. This could turn out all right, I thought, I'm going to get to run with Alexis and Decker again.

***

I found Decker running in a large group leaving the camp. It was still light, the rain hadn't gotten too bad yet and everyone was still very much bunched up together. Other runners were talking about how they had gotten lost and hadn't seen any streamers for a while, but I pointed out a course marker as they were telling me about it. This seemed to bolster Decker's confidence, and we began to make our way purposefully up through the crowd. As the light disappeared and the rain continued he told me all about the Silver Surfer, how he sacrificed himself to save his planet, and how he ended up on Earth. The miles melted away behind us, and before I knew it we were fast hiking up the torturous long road to Elliot's Knob.

It seemed like we had arrived at the climb to Elliot's Knob too soon, 10 miles by Decker's watch and we were already half way up. I thought I remembered someone saying it was closer to 20. That climb was just as hard as I thought it would be, and the group I was with was stronger than I felt. Brian and Austin started to pull ahead when I heard Alexis behind us. We all welcomed her, and joked that we expected her to overtake us much later in the race as she usually does. I was glad that she was there, I knew she was struggling with the darkness and the prospect of running alone through the night. The summit, when we finally reached it, was cloaked in a dense fog and a light rain, and there was no view to appreciate. But I had the company of friends, and that's even better.

By the time I punched my bib and started moving down the hill I had lost sight of Brian and Austin, both of which went on to have great races, but Decker, Alexis and I were still together, and we headed off to Dry Branch Gap together. Alexis said she was going to run with me all night long. I knew she could, she's amazingly stubborn when she gets determined to do something. The descent was technical and slippery in the rain, the leaf covered rocks slipping and sliding under foot in the dark. Alexis fell behind a few times but managed to stay close all the way to the aid station. We were 14 miles in and I felt tired. Not a great feeling, but I pushed it back into the darker corners of my mind. I was running well with good runners, and that would be enough to carry me through.

***

Alexis couldn't sleep under the tarp as easily as I had, so she gave up. Being under-dressed for the sudden onset of arctic conditions she was fortunate to be lent a jacket by another runner, and I gave her a pair of socks from my drop-bag to use as gloves. Decker said that he needed some more quality time with the fire, which I understood, so after making him promise to get up soon and keep running we set off without him.  We were 44 miles in, and the sun would be coming up soon.

Running together the miles to Reddish Knob passed easily.  There was a steady flow of two-way traffic by this point and we began to see some of the runners we know who were having better days than we were, and were already on their way back to the camp. The sun came up in a cloudy sky on this stretch of gravel road, but by the time we summited Reddish Knob the skies had cleared and the view was beautiful and expansive. We paused for a few moments to enjoy the majesty of the mountains and lament the fact that we didn't bring a camera. Seeing the sunrise from Reddish Knob is reason enough to run 100 miles.

We ran on to the the turn around to pick up Alexis' first pacer, Alissa. This is the only section of pavement in the entire race, from Reddish to the Turn Around and back, roughly 5 miles of boring country road. Somewhere since leaving the fire at Little Bald aid station I had told Alexis that I intended to run with her for the rest of the race, and when we met up with her crew they seemed surprised to see us together, but I was happy with this decision. If it is possible to make running 100 miles easier, this decision did just that. My attitude was better and my strength held for the rest of the day.

***

"Go on without me," Alexis said. We were leaving Dry Branch Gap aid station at mile 14 and she was telling me she felt nauseous. I was a little frustrated at this point. It had been raining on us now for about 3 hours and the aid station hadn't had much food to choose from. I had taken a PB&J and eaten it while I waited for Alexis and Decker, but now I was hiking up Crawford Mountain by myself. The rain continued and the steep climbs on this side of Crawford were muddy and awkward, but I knew that once I got over this mountain it was all downhill to Dowell's Draft aid station where Brenton and my crew would be waiting with warm food. So I hiked with my hands on my knees up that soul-crushing mountain.

The second most important thing that I learned in this section is that nothing, and I mean NOTHING, at Grindstone is ever all downhill. But I fell in with a group of runners who were cautiously picking their way down the treacherous slope and I let them and my desire for a hot meal guide me as I cruised for the whole section on auto-pilot. It was in this section that I started letting my nutrition schedule slip. I realized too late that I was holding off eating in anticipation of the food that was causing my mouth to water, and waiting for me at the bottom. But when I hit the bottom I really hit the bottom.

***

"Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face."

***

On the ride up to the camp on Friday morning, as we were all joking around and trying to pretend that we didn't have any real goals for the race, I announced that my primary objective was to beat Clifton Williams as the happiest runner on the course. I have found that I run my best when I am enjoying myself and maintaining a positive attitude. I knew that if I could harness that energy that had carried me through Hellgate and a double Promise Land then I would be able to run well at Grindstone.

As the day wore on Friday my well-laid plan slowly began to unravel around me. It was a simple plan; get there early, set up camp, rest, eat, rest, eat. It happened unnoticed mostly. The nervous energy in the camp brought people together to hang out and wish each other well. The race briefing and lunch took longer than I expected. And then the rain began. By the time the race started at 6 pm, I had spent more time walking around the camp then I had laying down in my tent, and I felt hungry standing there at the start line.

The race started and I was already feeling like my game plan was weak. When the crowd of runners bottle-necked at the first single track and I was standing there waiting, I began to get frustrated. I knew that it was a long race and that it would benefit me later to move slow at the start but I was standing there not moving and it was driving me crazy. I looked back at the crowd of runners and Clifton was yelling and smiling. I had already lost, and I didn't even realize it.

***

When I ran into Dowell's Draft aid station I was relying on unrealistic expectations to be met. I was feeling low because I was tired and down on calories. I was 22 miles into the race and I was feeling worn out and I knew that wasn't right. I was rude to my crew and the aid station volunteers because I couldn't get what I wanted, which was hot food, and I left knowing that the climb ahead was going to be long and hard. And as I slogged my way up that hill, getting passed by runner after runner as I sank deeper and deeper into my first good bonk, I beat myself up for yelling at Brenton. I knew he had a lot of work to keep that aid station going. I knew that I was just one runner. And I knew that I had overreacted, but it was too late. I had to run 60 miles before I would get the chance to apologize.

From Dowell's Draft to Lookout Mountain went by in a hazy blur. It would rain hard for a while and then almost stop, and then rain hard again. I ate the best I could as I realized what was wrong with me, but I just couldn't get into a good rhythm. At the aid station Jeremy Ramsey told me that I was 25 minutes off of the 24 hour pace, and I knew that was mostly due to my trudge through the valley of self-loathing. I ate a little and they rushed me out of the aid station and I was North River Gap bound. I tried not to let myself get overly excited about what may or may not be at that aid station. But it was hard. Sam Price talks a big game.

 ***

From the turn-around back to Little Bald Mountain aid station we moved a little slower than I thought we would. I figured that Alexis would fall in with her pacer and just start knocking out the miles, but we were still moving pretty slow.  I let her lead, and fell in line behind Alissa. Determined to stay with her, but out of the way, not push her pace to where she was uncomfortable. She told me after the race that she was running slow on this stretch because she thought I was suffering. I guess we should communicate a little better, but it was still a good stretch. We saw everyone we knew before we made it back to the aid station, and they all looked good and had plenty of time to finish. It looked like it was going to turn out to be a good day for the Blue Ridge Trail Runners.

J.B.'s aid station was a great place for me both times through. Without a doubt the second best aid station on the course. It wasn't quite as magical in the day light, but luckily I didn't need it to be. We ate, and killed a little time doing who-knows-what, and then headed off for the seven mile long downhill back to North River Gap. I took the lead on some of the downhills, and we started to move a little better than we had since the turn around. Kevin Smith, the pacer I had lined up, met us about three miles up from the bottom and I had to break the news to him that I planned on running the rest of the way in with Alexis.

Kevin is a great guy who believes in me more than I believe in myself, and he didn't want to take me seriously at first. He spent the next three miles of downhill trying to feel me out and push the pace, which is what he was there to do. He was checking to see how much fight I had left in me. I assured him that I wanted to run the rest of this hellish race with my wife, and he relented reluctantly by the time we got to the bottom of the hill. (The one real regret I have from this race is dragging Kevin out there and not taking advantage of his services. I have thought about it several times, and I wonder what I could have done if I had turned myself over to him and let him push me up and over those hills.)

We rolled into North River Gap inbound just after noon.  66(ish) miles in just over 18 hours. Lunchtime.

***

When I got to North River Gap outbound, I was feeling pretty good. I had learned my lesson from Dowell's Draft and eaten well on the trail even though I expected to get a real "meal" here. The rain had slowed down to just a heavy mist. The night air was still warm and comfortable. My friends seemed to have forgiven my childish outburst the last time I saw them. All was right with the world.

It is hard to explain all the ways that the North River Gap aid station lifted me up. The food was superb, there was a large variety of hot savory food that really filled the gap that "fuel" just doesn't do. There were so many people around that it had a carnival atmosphere, and everyone seemed happy. I sat down and ate a lot. My crew and Alexis' crew were very helpful and uplifting. I almost changed my shoes and socks, but decided to wait until I was inbound because it was still raining a little. When I left this aid station I was riding high on a wave of euphoria brought on by great food, good friends and, unbeknownst to me, utter exhaustion.

Between North River Gap aid station and Little Bald Mountain aid station there is really only one thing to slow you down: Little Bald Mountain. A seven mile climb covering some of the most technical trail miles on the course. Thirty minutes into this climb my world collapsed. My energy evaporated. The temperature began to drop rapidly, just like my will to live. Two miles into this climb the mountain had already eaten 50 minutes of my time. It only got worse from there. I sat down to eat at one point and was awoken by another climber's headlamp shining on me. I don't know how much time had passed. I fell asleep walking no less than four times. I would jerk my head up suddenly as I tripped on the tangles of undergrowth along the trail. I began looking for a place to curl up out of the wind and sleep until the sun came up. 

I'm not sure how I made it up to the top that mountain, but I know that I dug deep for any and every reason to keep moving. For my kids, because we always finish what we start. For Mike Donahue who would never have another chance to fight this course. For my wife and friends who were out here with me battling the same demons I was. For my friends and crew who came out to spend their weekend traipsing through the mountains making sure that all of us lunatics were alright. Because I had trained (off and on) for two years for this. Because I could, I was somehow obligated to. So I did. I climbed and I climbed and I climbed. 

When I finally got to the top of that climb my heart sank even farther, which put it down in my soaking wet socks at this point, as I discovered that the aid station wasn't were I thought it would be. It was another two miles down the trail. At least it was down I thought. When I finally got to Little Bald Mountain aid station outbound, I went straight to my drop-bag then to the fire. The wind was howling across the open hilltop, cutting right to the bone. I took off my shoes and put on dry socks and my light weight jacket. Sat my shoes what seemed like a safe distance from the fire, wrapped myself up in a tarp that was surely there for the sole purpose of keeping me warm while I slept, and I went to sleep.

***

"It's not a footrace, it's an eating competition!"

***

Coming into North River Gap inbound just in time for lunch was quite possibly divine intervention.

I felt good. I was running in a pack now. The best food on the course was laid out before me. There were only 36 miles left to run, and ALL of the hard stuff was behind us. It was shaping up to be a fine day (days) in the mountains.

Once again the crews and volunteers at North River Gap took excellent care of us. Except I did have to weigh myself. Between the aid station and our crew who seemed bored and happy to have something to do, they piled more food on me then I could possibly eat. But I did my best. I ate and ate while Alexis' crew preformed impromptu surgery on some nasty blisters she had growing in her shoe. I opted to not change shoes again, and spent my time eating and watching them cut on Alexis' foot. It reminded me of that scene in Rocky, you know the one, where Rocky says "Cut me Mick." It was kind of a gruesome spectacle, not unlike a car accident, where people gathered around to gawk at the gore. 

They eventually got her put back together, and Kevin (my pacer) stayed behind to run around on the course and have fun, and Alexis' new pacer Robbie started running with us, and Alissa came along so we would both have a pacer, or maybe just to get some more miles in. I ran most of the next couple of sections with Robbie while Alexis and Alissa ran just behind us doing the girl-talk thing.

I feel like we ran really well to Lookout Mountain, and then on to Dowell's Draft. Alexis had given me a marker to write notes on my arm during the night to make sure I remembered what I needed at the aid stations. I wrote a note on my hand, to ensure that I wouldn't forget: Tell Brenton Sorry! I felt bad about how rude I had been during the night, even though I figured Brenton would just laugh it off, I still owed him an apology. 

Kevin Smith met us half way down the long decent to Dowell's Draft, if nothing else he was getting a good hill workout in. Between him and Robbie I know we were pushing the pace pretty good coming into Dowell's Draft, but Alexis was hanging right there with us so I didn't hold back. We were in and out of Dowell's Draft faster than we had been any of the other aid stations, and Alexis seemed pumped up by the faster pace and a fresh pacer. We traded Robbie and Alissa for Anna, and we were off.

Anna was totally a no-nonsense kind of pacer. Like a good relief pitcher going in during the eighth inning. She led when she needed to, followed when she should, and kept on Alexis about her food intake. I don't remember seeing her smile or hearing her laugh, she had a job to do and it was getting done. Kind of like running with a Terminator, she would only stop when her mission was complete. The three of us climbed up Crawford mountain like it was flat. We ran more incline in this section than I had in the entire rest of the race combined, and we had over 80 miles on our legs! We passed groups of runners hunched over and suffering up that climb, and before I realized we were running down the steep side to Dry Branch Gap. 

The aid station itself was a little disappointing, but Kevin and Alissa were there to help us out. We only had 14 more miles to go, and Elliot's Knob, the last climb of the race was right ahead of us. I don't remember what time it was, but we thought we could make it to the top before daylight failed us, so we were in and out of the aid station as quickly as possible. Maybe too quickly, but you know what they say about hindsight.

The climb up Elliot's was slower than Crawford had been, but we managed to get the vertical part done before we lost the sun. The higher we climbed the fiercer the wind was, and the temperature dropped to a bone chilling degree. I didn't remember the long flat ridge run at the top, but we shuffled over precariously nomadic stones in an ever deepening darkness cursing a certain Race Director and wondering if we would ever find the gravel road leading down from Elliot's Knob back into more hospitable weather conditions and eventually returning us to the camp and the finish line. 

We hit the descent with another group of runners, and we all started down together. They joked that they had discussed it, and decided that there was no easy way down and a full on sprint down the mountain  would be no more painful than trying to ease yourself carefully down. This was interesting because I felt wobbly and slow, yet managed the hill much faster than their intended kamikaze style attack. We slowed down a number of times during this free fall to make sure that we didn't run past the trail that we were supposed to turn onto. This paranoia of getting lost would haunt us for the next seven or eight miles, and only get worse as we entered the "maze".

For some reason we made the decision to "skip" the last aid station, I'm not so sure that was the best choice we could have made considering that Alexis bonked really hard with three miles to go. But in all honesty that aid station seemed to be designed to be skipped. It was there as a formality, more of a course marker than any real kind of aid. We slowed down and got our numbers counted, and then continued on into the darkness.

The last 5-ish miles of Grindstone seemed the most unrecognizable to me. I found it odd that this was the section of the race that I ran first, when I should have been more cognizant than at any other time during this adventure. Coming back onto the Boy Scout property was kind of like landing on another planet. The terrain seemed bizarre and foreign, totally unfamiliar. How could the place change so much in one day's time?

The markings were sparse and Alexis was bonking and I was starting to get tired again. Several times we would stop at unmarked intersections and let Anna run ahead until she found a streamer, unable to make ourselves move down a trail that may be the wrong way. Any unnecessary travel at this point just seemed like it would be too much to bear. Getting lost that close to the finish was not appealing. 

We picked our way carefully through the maze, and with less than a mile to go a runner caught us. He had run with us earlier, but fallen behind on one of the tough climbs. He looked good and decided to run on ahead of us. Some how we made it through without getting lost, and as we finally climbed up onto the dam by the lake we saw a headlamp bobbing in the darkness, in the opposite direction of the camp. I yelled and waved and he yelled back. It was our buddy Joe #98 who had just passed us a few minutes before. He ran back to us, and decided to stick with us to the finish line, now no more than a quarter mile away. We all finished together, and then went our separate ways.

As for me, I showered, ate, and crashed out in my tent until morning.

As for Grindstone, it is a tough course. No, it is more than that. It is brutal and beautiful. It is challenging and fulfilling. It is a measure of who we are, and not only what we can do, but what we can endure. It is 100 miles in the mountains. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Will I return? 

Yes. Yes, I think I will.

-Todd