I 'm not a trail runner, and I'm certainly not an ultra runner. However, I didn't want to pass up a race where there are so many types of food and drinks available.
Training - I trained well for a marathon in September (Pfitz's 55 mile a week plan). I recovered from that and trained in a half baked fashion (the Dettmar 25 mile per week plan) for the Marine Corps Marathon at the end of October. Then I recovered and tapered for the next 3 weeks (about 20 miles per week), until the JFK 50 miler on Nov 19th. I did no ultra specific training, no trail running, and no double long runs. I did eat a variety of foods see how my stomach handled them. I might not have been ready for the running part, but I thought I could hold my own in the eating and drinking department.
As far as I'm concerned, there is only one way to run this race - as part of the Reston Runners. The support is the best and there is a wealth of knowledgeable resources. In addition, I was put on one of the many Reston teams. Despite it being my inaugural ultra, I was able to avoid teams with such monikers as freshman, rookies, newbies, and babes (hey, with a name like Chris, you sometimes get grouped with the girls). So, I'm on this team with four guys much faster than me. I can only imagine the selection process. I hadn't been a last round pick since grammar school pickup football. At least during the JFK, I didn't think I'd be relegated to hiking and blocking all day.
Background - This was the 43rd JFK 50 miler and over 1,200 signed up for it. It is put on by the Cumberland Valley (Maryland) Athletic Club, a highly organized, efficient, and affable group that I thought should be added to the list of terrorist organizations as I proceeded through the race.
Race - Weather was perfect. Cold to start - in the low 20s, but it warmed up nicely and I was dressed perfectly all day. Started with a fleece vest over a singlet and under armor cold wear and ditched the vest after mile 9.
As an ultra novice, I was still chatting away walking towards the starting line when the race started. After a couple of minutes, I noticed people ahead had started to run. I never saw a starting line and I never heard a gun, but we were underway. I started my watch about 4 minutes late, laughing about what a great start to my ultra career.
After running (or jogging or walking) up a mountainous road for a mile or so, we get to the real first part of the course - 15 miles on the Appalachian Trail. Obviously, my idea of a trail and Mr. Appalachian's idea of a trail differs significantly. I think there was some actual trail beneath the rocks and the leaves, but I don't believe my feet ever found it. Some of the veterans like Bill T, Jim B, and Dave Y were not kidding when they said it was rocky. And, these rocks were not the aged, erosion weathered rocks of the east that Sister De La Salle taught me about in the 5th grade. No, these were sharp, angry, irregular rocks designed to punish feet, twist ankles, and send ultra newbies sprawling. Abetting the rocks in crime were the leaves - liberally sprinkled throughout the trail to conceal rocks, and obscure one's sense of where to plant one's foot. If you ever played the old video game, Space Invaders, this was it. Rocks and boulders coming at you constantly requiring intense concentration, sharp vision, and a fleshy rear end should numbers one and two fail. I considered myself lucky to fall down only twice. During the last mile on the trail, referred to as the switchbacks as you come off the mountain, it gets even more ridiculous. Fortunately, there was a long conga line of runners in front of me making the descent rather slow and measured. There was no shortage of real runners complaining about the lack of pace at this point. I joined the chorus of complaints to make it seem like I was a real trail runner, but I was actually very happy with the impeded pace.
After the trail portion I was able to fix two blisters raging on my feet, change socks and shoes, get some soup, and start out on the next section of the course. I was about 15 minutes behind where I wanted to be, and I used a whole lot more energy than wanted to for the first third of the course. However, I was not discouraged in the least because I was soooooooo happy to get off that trail. I intend to write to the race director criticizing the rock removal and grooming of the trail this year and recommending a massive paving project for next year.
On the positive side, I was truly touched and impressed with the diligence of my crew, Judy Milenski and Sharon Kavanaugh. These ladies really knew what they were doing (except for maybe signing up for this insanity). But, I shouldn't have been surprised. Judy has taught high school students for years, and Sharon has mastered that most complex of machines, the computer. Next to those experiences, a bit of crewing is child's play.
The next portion of the course is 26 miles along the C&O Canal. Very pretty, very flat, and not the Appalachian Trail. Because of my lack of ultra specific training, I decided to run 10 minutes and walk 2 minutes throughout the canal. I started off way too fast. I think it was because of some uncontrollable mental need to flee from the Appalachian Trail. I felt great, my feet felt better and I could actually pick my head up and look around without fear of tripping. By the time mile 25 of the race came around, I was ahead of schedule and passing lots of runners. This, of course, was fool's gold.
By mile 34, I was pretty much done. My 10 run/2 walk plan had become 5/1, then 5/1.5, then 4/1.5 and take my time in the aid stations. Bruce Orosz told me there would be some down times. I think he said the down times would be followed by good times, but the good times were certainly late to the party. I knew I shouldn't trust anyone who runs these things so swiftly and so often.
At mile 42, you finish the canal portion of the race and hit the roads of western Maryland. This area was critical for me because I had one goal in this race, courtesy of Diane Lathom. The goal was to get past the canal portion of the race and not have to don the safety vest that they give to runners who don't get there by a certain time. I saw the vest truck as I left the canal. I hurried by it. They were not handing out the reflective vests yet. Hurrah! I celebrated by walking up a hill that reminded me of a side of a skyscraper.
So, despite a fatigued body, a wonky right foot that hadn't done well since mile 25, and legs on the edge of cramping, I felt semi-elated that I accomplished my goal. This lasted about 45 seconds. It was time to get busy again as we crested the hill. Knowing how I am, I knew I needed another goal to get me going. Otherwise, I would have been perfectly content to chat with some of the other competitors, many who were walking or ambling. So, I decided that a sub 10 hour time would look much better than 10 hours plus. And besides, I knew the sun set at 4:57 PM, and I'd like to finish before it set. So, I was off hustling again until the next big hill hit.
The last 8 miles were just a big struggle-fest. I walked up the hills, I ran down the hills, I ambled on the few flat parts of the course. With all the walking I was doing, it certainly did not feel like a very good performance, but I remembered what Ed Cacciapaglia told me - "unrelenting forward progress". Hmmm . . . I wonder if that includes hitchhiking?
Seven miles to go. I was focused on going from aid station to aid station. Chat a bit, run a bit, walk a bit, wonder where the next station is a lot. I'd say more people are passing me now than I am passing people. Even some people with the reflective vests are passing me. I guess I didn't beat the vest cutoff by much.
The last half mile is mostly uphill, but I am back to running full time. An SUV with some crazed lady is yelling at me. Whoa, it's Harry at the wheel and Diane applauding my lack of a vest. I'm convinced these crew people are wackier than the runners. As usual, I can't figure out exactly where the finish is, but it is light and there are a lot of people cheering. Finally, I see the finish clock. I cross in 9:44:30 plus or minus a few seconds. I am somewhat happy. I am somewhat satisfied. However, the dominant feeling for me is one of relief. I am elated that this thing is over! I finished somewhere in the top 300 out of 900 plus finishers. Among Reston teams, ours (the Wildcards) finished second. My time actually counted for third on the team. Regardless of the time or the place, in my book, if you finish this, you are a winner.
Ultra runners are a special breed. I'm convinced most of them wear those shirts where the sleeves tie in the back. However, I have great respect for them. In my own limited experience, this was a lot like a marathon, except that I hit the wall with 16 - 18 miles still to go. I'm not sure the human body was built for things like ultras or even marathons, so I will withhold my endorsement of such activities. But, some people are wild about them. More power to them. After they begin the paving operations on the Appalachian Trail, maybe my enthusiasm will match theirs.
Thanks to all the Reston people who gave me advice, provided support, laughed at my jokes, and helped with the training. I've always said my running medium is pavement. For these people to get me to run the JFK was a terrific con job on their part. However, it was a great experience and a reminder of why I prefer terra asphalta. Special thanks to Anna Bradford. She's simply the best.