The JFK 50 miler has become an annual event on my running calendar, an event which starts around June as runners begin avoiding talking to me for fear I might "sign them up" for the race in November. Although there was a time when I eagerly chatted with unsuspecting runners about the blissful benefits of ultramarathoning, I have since become a patient listener to the many converts who now train en masse for the November event. It appears the whole of RestonRunners is talking themselves into participating in this event, which has evolved into several months of socializing, potlucking and trail running together.
As the captain of the Reston Runners JFK ship, the waters have become very familiar. In the Spring I begin hearing of recovered runners eager to better their time from last year and tighten theirstrategies. Around June these runners have each recruited several friends who begin emailing andcalling for information. By August, dozens of runners have talked themselves into signing up for the challenge, and our first meeting is full of excitement, war stories and signed applications. By September, organizational activities intensify. New runners are hungry for information on training, new crew are expressing interest in helping, and all applications need to be gathered, copied, sorted, and grouped into teams. This year I Fed-Exed 40 applications in October, organized into 9 teams. Two more teams were pulled together in November, with a totalof 53 Reston Runners registering- a Reston Runner record. Al Rider's complete database system enabled runners and crew to "register" for the event and track the numbers of participants as it grew, and the website offered information about training, crewing, and packing, as well as stats from previous years, driving directions for crew and details about upcoming meetings.By November, runners', families' and crews' anxieties increase and email communication escalates. What should I wear in the mountains? How do I know where to meet my runner? What if my wife can't help after all? Can you get me a ride up on Saturday? How late can I sign up? Does the race provide oranges? Where exactly are the port-a-potties? What kind of shoes should I buy? Do you think I can finish if my long run was more than 3 weeks ago? Do you have a list of cell phone numbers for all of the other crew? I field around 30 JFK emails each day answering questions, assuaging fears, introducing runners to their crew, organizing meetings, and sorting details. My own wedding was a cake-walk to organize compared to the annual JFK frenzy.
Other volunteers step up their efforts at this time as well: Tim Cohn, with the help of his artist wife Sarah, designed and ordered the team singlet and crew "penny". Norm Hunt organized the pre-race dinner and secured hotel rooms for the club. Al Rider maintained the website and communications systems that kept the information flowing, the Rostants hosted 50 teammates for dinner, and Mary Proctor was always available to buy drinks, help set up or clean up, and run errands.
A week before the race our final organizational meeting offered a time for all 100+ Reston Runner participants to gather, eat, share goals, meet crew, purchase team shirts and secure rides. Jim Ashworth offered his experienced and calming perspective on running the JFK in a mini seminar, while Harry Bergmann and Diane Lathom (the quintessential and highly experienced crew team) explained the role of crew to new volunteers. The Reston Runner packet was distributed in an attempt to reduce (but certainly not eliminate) last minute scrambling for information.
By race weekend, all details were in order- the only thing left on our lists were eating, sleeping and getting through the event. A few runners were still uncertain about whether they should start or not -Jim Cavanaugh determined he would wake up in the morning and decide. A crowd of 50 or so joined together at the Clarion Hotel for a pasta dinner, then returned to their rooms for a restful 1-6 hours of sleep, depending on one's own level of excitement. Runners repeated to themselves, "It's not the night before the race, but sleep the night before the night before that matters" as they tossed and turned.
By 4:45AM, Saturday, November 23, 2002, all runners were up, dressed, and in action. Runners and crew joined together for coffee and breakfast at the hotel, while seven of our teammates opted for the 5AM start. Runners compared clothing choices, uncertain about the day's weather. "You're not wearing long pants? Do you think I should change? What about this extra shirt? Do you think I need my glasses? What is he doing with that duct tape?" And Duffy was heard saying, "They might as well give me my medal now. There's no way I'm not going to finish this race," and I could tell he was right.
At the gym at Boonesboro High, the whole crowd gathered together at 6:20AM beneath the Reston Runners banner for an impressive group shot ( "This is the 3rd year in a row that Marcelo's in the bathroom during the team picture!" Karen sighed.) Our 100 Reston Runners were hard to miss, with our team singlets and crew pennies.
Runners and crew were finally put to the test when the gun went off at 7am and the race was on. It was a cold, gray day, but it was not raining, and it was not icy. Our team was ready for this test. Every runner had at least one support crew member, in addition to a team of cyclists, massage therapists, soup makers and photographers. The runners would face a 3 mile climb on the road, then 6 miles over the rocks, roots and leaves of the Appalachian Trail before seeing their crew for the first time.
By 7:15 AM our early starters were meeting their crew at the first aid station- refilling their water bottles, eating their oranges and assuring each other all was well. By 8:15 AM, Gary Grilliot came into the 9 mile crew stop, taking those mountains at a sub-9 minute pace. Some runners struggled and scrambled over the rocks, while the front runners flew gazelle-like over rocks and boulders, barely touching before bounding again. One of the highlights noted by the 5am starters was the privilege of watching these superhuman athletes sail over the Weaverton switchbacks before returning to their own laborious effort of hanging on trees and scooting down boulders to progress down the mountain.
At Weaverton, mile 15.7, Ellen Mannion served chicken noodle soup while support crew changed their runners' shoes, taped feet and filled water bottles. Runners got word of who was ahead and how far it would take to catch up. "Where's Al Rider?" more than one runner was heard inquiring. Any chance I could catch Loretta? (Of course the answer was a squint and a "You can try")
Once off the Appalachian Trail, runners faced a long 26.2 miles on the C&O Canal. The scenery doesn't change much- there's a river on your left and a canal on your right. There's usually an aid station within a couple miles, and the gravel under your feet sometimes turns to leaves. Or grass. Maintaining momentum requires good planning or good discipline: runners stuck to a run-walk pattern to keep themselves moving forward, and socializing was easier than on the mountain.
By mile 27 our leaders were starting to emerge- 17 of our front runners were still within 15 minutes of each other, and all were tracking themselves against one runner. "I was still only 6 minutes behind Loretta at that point," Bruce would explain later. "I was still feeling good at mile 27, and I was still ahead of Loretta!" others would say.
Many other runners would find this mid point to be more of a breaking point and we lost 4 of our participants by then- one due to the flu that finally took over, two ran out of steam, and a fourth ran out of cartiledge. Those who continued through their waning steam, twisted ankles and stressed cartiledge maintained motivation in many different ways. Some needed to keep their "streak" alive, others needed to make it to the finish so they could curse me and inform me I was dead wrong about the ultra being easier than the marathon. And the rest just wanted to beat Al. Those of us behind Al were simply focused on making those cut-off times before the bus picked us up.
Our Reston Runner cyclists, John Koss, Gary Euliss and Peter Gaaserud kept runners energized, informed and hydrated as they cruised the entire canal section with supplies and details of teammates' progress. After biking around 50 miles on the canal, Peter and Gary returned to their car to discover their fuel pump had expired and only one car remained in the parking lot (the other cyclist, John, was still on rounds). They did eventually make it home, but not without their own full day of adventure hitching rides and calling tow trucks.
The rest of the crew continued to push through their own adventures- only 5 of the previous 10 aid stations were open to race traffic, so many crew members got very creative about getting access to their runners. "I have to use the port-a-potty," was an explanation that got Kathy Downey past the park service, while others claimed to be picking up their boy-scout son. Once at the aid stations the crew would unload their runner's supplies, set up their chairs and cheer for the bedraggled competitors. After their own runner breezed through, barely accepting any help, the crew would pack everything up, haul it to the car, and continue down the winding road to repeat the exercise.
By dark, half of our runners had finished. Gary sped through his JFK in a mere 7 hours and 49 minutes, followed by Neil Peruski and Steve Burton. In the end, not many people managed to beat Loretta, who took 21 minutes off of her previous PR to finish in 8 hours and 27 minutes, the 4th Reston Runner to cross the finish line. Loretta's support crew, Deedee Loughran, was heard saying that she never plans to run this race, since helping runners throughout the day was like "watching your friends age before your eyes." I guess even the fast runners appear a bit tired at times.
While the first 23 Reston Runners celebrated their daylight finishes, 21 more were left to bundle up, suck it up, and continue in the dark. Soup become more tasty and the crew's encouragements became less effective. Blisters had to be ignored and time goals had to be re-set. The 8 mile road section included not only steep hills (ok, rolling, but after 40-some miles they feel like verticle climbs), but also impatient drivers intent on demonstrating their ownership of the road. Runners dove into the ditch as cars approached, uncertain if they faced friend or foe.
Runners could see the lights of the finish and hear the cheering crowd as they climbed the final hill. Those previously observed wincing with every step and limping through their aid stations were suddenly granted a glorious burst of energy, causing them to sprint across the finish line, arms high above their head. Crossing the finish line made them forget the pain of the mountain rocks, the monotony of the C&O, and the dangers of the dark road.
The JFK 50 finisher's medal and hug from their crew made the months of training and the long, sometimes painful experience of JFK suddenly worth while. Cliff Dewitt and his massage student offered delicious massages at the finish to ease the pain and speed the healing. Although several were heard at the finish swearing off ultramarathons forever, many of those same runners have since been observed making plans for next year's race, complete with updated training and racing strategies. Bob Cochran made his customary declaration that he would never (ever) run that race again, but my guess is that he's softened a bit.
Forty nine Reston Runners started the race, and 44 finished. Some of our runners PR'd by over an hour, while others PW'd by more than that. All crew who started, finished, and then even drove their runners home.
The post-race breakfast offered runners and crew a chance to review their efforts in the light of day, after a hot shower and deep sleep. Bill Van Antwerp, Russ Evans and Jim Nagle (all pre-nightfall finishers) cheerfully cooked pancakes, waffles, eggs and sausage for a hungry crowd of 70. As runners proudly displayed their coveted finishers' medals, each and every one identified one key factor in the success of their race: their crew. And of course, their desire to beat Al.
Congratulations to the whole team for your hard work and mutual support. And congratulations to all for taking that leap of faith to believe that you (or your runner) really could run 50 miles in a day, and then doing it. You do us proud.