Question: If you have only 8 toenails, do you get a discount on a pedicure: Reflections of a first time JFK Finisher
I wish I could pinpoint the exact time I decided to commit to running a 50 miler as my goal; however, it was a slow process that evolved slowly after I finished the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) in 2004. My experience running the JFK 50 miler was awesome and I am ready to send in my check for the 2006 race....
Before the race: 3:00 a.m. to the start of the race at 5:00 a.m.
At 3:00 a.m. on November 19th, I woke up. After a few moments in which I considered going back to bed by hitting the alarm clock, my watch alarm, taking the telephone of the hook and the other phone off the hook (I firmly believe in plans with multiple back ups), I decided the effort to dodge all the reminders of my commitment to run the 50 miler was too cumbersome, so I got up. I grabbed my Diet Mt Dew (the beverage of champions), drank it down and started my long day which would culminate in my running at least 50 miles.
Because I was starting the race at the early 5 a.m. start, I knew it was going to be bitterly cold outside (although this was only a nasty rumor at this point, propagated by the weather channel-but I believed them, just this once...). But before starting this task/challenge (to see how many clothes I could actually get into in just one hour) I had to "body-glide" every inch of myself (2 reasons-first was for the advantage that if I fell down, I wanted to "slide" a few extra feet and the second was that I had heard that chafing becomes a significant issue in ultra's). I am a firm believer in the "slick" route for feet so I "glided" between my toes, my heels and any other area I thought might rub. Through the race and even across the finish I had minimal if no chafing (one slight issue was my left arm near my miniscule bicep muscle where my t-shirt ends-don't know why this one patch is really an issue because I had the same problem at the MCM both in 2004 and 2005). Finally I was bundled up to the point where I looked like the child in the movie "A Christmas Story" (the kid who can't put his arms down because he has so many layers). It was time to wait for my ride, Kathleen Hunter and Michael Bradford, who also happened to be my AWESOME crew!
We got to the elementary school in Boonsboro, MD where we had our pre-race briefing. Much of the information was common sense but we also got to see experienced runners who had completed the JFK numerous times who we could "tailgate" to ensure we made the time cutoffs. Soon enough it was time to head into darkness that is 5 a.m. and the "balmy" 23 degree weather to get to the start line. Walking to the start line I convinced my crew to hold my hand (I did not want to lose them, so Katherine and Michael took turns holding my hand/being in my pathetic death grip as we trudged to the start line). I had heard it was about 400 meters to the start line and would agree this was an accurate assessment (although I am still a bit confused where the start line is/was). My confusion at the start line was caused by a slight wardrobe malfunction. I was wearing a spare pair of wind-pants which I wanted to give my crew right before I started; however, it was early, I was cold, and I really wanted to make everyone feel really smart around me, so I couldn't get my pants off. Sadly, after a few minutes of stumbling about mumbling about how the $@#($*?? was I supposed to get my pants off (and ready to see if someone had a pair of scissors), at the suggestion of my crew I sat down. At this point I realized all I needed to do was unzip the lower portion of my pants (I still blame the time of the day, not that I am a space cadet!). After I was sure I had and was in the right running equipment (glove liners, gloves, headband, headlamp, flashlight, shorts, pants, thick socks, good formerly "lucky" running shoes, technical t-shirt, turtle neck, long sleeve shirt, half zip shirt and jacket) I was ready for the blizzard of the century and/or a 50 mile race. By this time, there was just one other lone runner and myself crossing what might have been the start line (the one traffic light in Boonsboro MD). I'm not sure if this was in fact the start line since everyone else had started well ahead of me. However, a sheriff verified that I had either crossed the start line or was crossing the start line. I was off on my quest to run 50 miles in under 14 hours.
Starting Line to the Beginning of the Appalachian Trail
The first few miles are one big hill (note to race organizers: this race would be a lot easier if the first 3 miles were flat, the next 15 miles were leveled off and surface smoothed out and next 30 miles were shortened to just a few hundred meters, just a suggestion...). Slowly catching up to others I noticed many were walking (I would have noticed myself walking, but at this point in the race I was not yet undergoing an out of body experience), few were jogging and none appeared to be running. It was interesting to observe all the headlamps moving up the mountain slowly.
Along the Appalachian Trail
All too soon it was the top of the hill. This meant it was time for the Appalachian Trail (AT) portion of the race. The first race "aid station" is here and I took full advantage of it by starting out with a "breakfast" of a handful of M&M's, a banana and a cup of cola (I can't tell you how I chose this combination-it was early and dark, I was tired I have a lot of hypothesis but looking back on it, it does seem an arbitrary meal for someone no longer in college). I smelled coffee and considered foraging for where it was located but then figured after my incompetence with the wardrobe malfunction, I would probably scald myself with a hot beverage. And how would people react when you explained you couldn't complete the JFK 50 miler not because you fell on the run, pulled a muscle, broke a limb or even missed a time cutoff but were carted off in an ambulance with 2nd degree burns on your lips and esophagus...). After my modified "breakfast", it was time to jog along the AT with the 300 other crazy 5 a.m. starters.
On the AT everyone was very nice about giving verbal warning regarding tree stumps, rocks, roots etc. About 60% of runners had lights (either headlamps or flashlights) so the path was moderately well lit and you became aware of problems if you stayed in a cluster of runners (which I did). After a bit, we got onto the service road for a bit during which time the sun was really starting to rise and darkness was fading. This made me very happy. Now I could see the people who I was talking to, I could (theoretically) see the dangers better and I could see the woods around me. I was particularly happy because a crazed bear or crazed deer could no longer surprise and attack me. (I had many fears running this race and a Bear attack was high up on my list, I was pretty sure rattlesnakes were in their dens for the season, Deer I had slight concerns because a few weeks before a buck had instead of running away from me near a 4 lane road, had stood his ground challenging me- I walked away from this deer incident, but it had left me a little afraid of getting attacked and mauled by Bambi... which again how can you explain your lack of completion of the JFK 50 miler, "I was attacked by Bambi" is just going to make you look pathetic).
During the AT section I ran when I could, walked when I couldn't and fell when neither of those worked out. Before the race I kept saying I would not fall, that was one of my goals. But sadly about ½ hour after sunrise I decided to test gravity (it worked) and stumbled on a rock, tree-root, indent.... (I'm not sure of the exact cause-perhaps there will be a show "CSI: Appalachian Trail" and the investigators can find out who/what caused this). Pretty quickly I got up (I thought about staying put then realized the other runners would probably just step on me anyway). I tried to suggest to the group of folks around me that "What goes on along the Appalachian Trail, stays on the Appalachian Trail" but sadly my knee/ankle/wrist did not agree which meant by the finish it was pretty obvious I had taken a spill. For any runner in the future, just because on many of the web-sites and write-ups people talk about their falling and it being a badge of honor. It really is not mandated that you fall...
One would think that one fall is enough, but not for me, I decided to break the curve and fall again about 20 minutes later (again just testing that pesky gravity because I heard as you get to higher elevations that gravity pulls less-it doesn't so physicists, stop saying it does!). Again after a few moments assessing my status (hands okay, legs okay, spleen-not happy but okay), I got up and re-iterated my wish for this incident to remain on the AT and go no further. I noticed I was not the only person falling; however, I think my falling count was highest and survival curve between falls was shortest (which are not desirable statistics to be considered best in).
Soon enough I arrived at the second aid station and first time to see the Reston Runners crew at Gathland (which was mile 9). I was happy to get off the trail (even for just a few hundred meters) and was able to take off my jacket, my headband and all my light equipment (headlamp and flashlight). I mis-calculated my time and thus my crew was not at this stop, however, others from the Reston runners took my stuff and offered me goods. At this point I was doing pretty well (food/clothing and beverage-wise). At this aid station they had lots of food and beverages and I continued my M&M and banana eating and grabbed some Gatorade and moved along. At this aid station there were porta-potties with little or no line, so I decided to use them (as I had been brought up with the philosophy that if there is a restroom, one must use it). I was bummed out that there were only porta-potties and no real facilities; but from my perspective this was way better then having to go into the woods, risking a bear or deer attack to pee.
All too soon this mini-break from the AT was over and it was time to continue the run/jog/walk. I was very lucky to hook up with another experienced ultra-runner, Leo Lightner (who was a statistician no less, which is what I am). We jogged several miles together chatting about statistics, running, traveling and many other subjects. I noticed there were many runners who seemed to like to chat (I sure did-it kept my mind off the fact that I still had 40+ miles to go) and others who did not seem inclined to chat. I really enjoyed this section because it did go very fast and because of the good company I was keeping. Sadly, at some point our paces diverged and I moved ahead. I met many other runners and chatted with quite a few. The social aspect was really great and everyone was very nice and supportive. Along this section of the AT, I must have been drinking a lot because I ran out of beverage in my sports bottle in my fanny pack. As a weekend hiker, I figured that some of the numerous hikers we were passing must have spare water. I decided to mooch some water off someone, so I approached a gentleman asking if he has some spare water and next thing you know he was pouring a fresh bottle of Deer Park water in my empty sports bottle. After some words of encouragement by this nice gentleman, it was time for me to resume my running. One more major stumble later it was time to run down Weverton Cliffs. My husband and I had taken a day hike to do a reconnaissance mission along this section of the path several weeks before the race (which I am not sure if it was a good idea-because I knew what I was up against or bad-because I knew what I was up against). This crazy section involves 18 switchbacks (yes, I counted them, only to verify a lady who suggested there were 18 switchbacks). One of the switchbacks was CRAZY to the point where I sat on my butt, scooted along then stood up below (what I call the crab because I think it makes you look like a crab scooting across the sand). I figured I did not want to get carted off the cliffs because while this injury would be less embarrassing then the scalding by coffee or the deer attack, it might hurt significantly worse. At about the 16th switchback, the top runners started passing me. Only 3 of the elite athletes passed me during the switchback section.
After completing Weverton Cliffs, you step right into a parking area aid station you can see from about ½ mile away (from many of the switchbacks it is visible). Here my original crew did catch up to me and I stripped off more cloths, drank some Gatorade, got a back rub from Katharine (who is a massage therapist by day) and received many words of encouragement. I then moved along, onto the last remaining section of the AT. Another 5 or 10 runners passed me on the single track AT between the Weverton Aid Station and the Towpath; however, all the runners were very nice and were very reassuring saying not to worry, be careful, don't get hurt and even offered some words of encouragement, even using my name which was on the back of my shirt (which considering they are top athletes they had my utmost respect, but then to be encouraging and polite was extremely impressive!). During this section I tried to keep my momentum up. Sadly I did not realize this was wasted energy because after this small section (less than 400 meters) back on the AT, we almost reached the towpath. Almost is fine for most everything except when there is a mile long slowest moving train between you and the next section of the race. This bummed me out. I was in a groove, I was ready to abandon (and never look back at) the AT and I wanted to get to the finish where I could stop running. Apparently the first and second runners beat the train but many of the other faster runners were trapped at the same place as I was. We were all stuck wandering about aimlessly and loitering. Luckily there was an aid station on the same side of the tracks as we were on so I, (like many others), made use of this forced pit-stop by refueling and replenishing. Since M&M's and banana's were working for me (or as I call them "ultra-chocolate covered bananas") I grabbed a handful of M&M's and a banana and munched away at my mid-morning snack. A Marathon Bar and a Pepsi-chaser completed this meal. Finally, the train cleared out and we could get onto the C&O Canal tow path.
The C&O Canal from Weverton Cliffs to Antietam
The tow path was the most enjoyable section of the race for me (although at the time I did not know it). I particularly liked the first 10-15 miles along the C&O Canal towpath. Harper's Ferry is a scenic town, the Potomac alongside it is quite dramatic with falls and rapids and by this time, the weather was getting warmer and the sun was up and shining brightly. My husband was supposed to meet me in Harpers Ferry but got delayed. I did not see him and after I got about 1 mile north of Harper's Ferry, I decided to do something about it (at about mile 17 of the race). I saw a gentleman with a cell phone strapped to his waist (by this time I have no pride, I am the quintessential girl ready to ask for help). I called my husband and found out I beat him to our rendezvous point-I refuse to go back and we are not sure where I am (I am mile marker 69 on the tow path but how many miles I have done remains a complete mystery to me except at aid stations-this lack of knowledge of my whereabouts remains constant through the entire race). He finally says he will go ahead to Antietam at mile 27 to meet up with me. This depresses me. He has the cell phone, and I had wanted it at mile 15 so I could call people to keep my mind off the race (my strategy was to pretend I was not running 50 miles by focusing on other tasks). I figure if I am talking on the phone, chatting with people, eating or doing anything that suggests multi-tasking I am not running a race exactly so for that section, the running doesn't count. Oh yes, this angers me too. Then I decide to be in denial. I feel frustration. I am upset. Finally, I have to accept I will not see my "mile 15" goods and supplies until mile 27. Actually at this time I go through all 7 stages of emotions in a very short time frame.
The tow path is pretty uneventful for the first several (10 or so) miles. I am running, I get happy, then I get sad, then I get concerned, I feel content, I am tired... I experience a lot of emotions. I try to blame it on hormones but I can't figure out what hormones I should blame. Is it female hormones or the athletically induced hormones. And regardless, what can help me? (chocolate, like M&M's maybe"??). Along this section the elite female runners pass me. They are all really nice and encouraging. It is really nice to have people coming up from behind you telling you that "you're looking good", "you can do it" or other supportive phrases. Many even use my name when encouraging me, it feels really good. Another runner and I discuss that this world would be a lot better off if in general this is how we behaved. I agree and make a vow to give more people words of encouragement.
Pretty soon we were coming upon the next aid station at Dalgren. This is a small aid station but has an enthusiastic crowd, very nice volunteers and most importantly: M&M's and Banana's. It was time for my fix. I took a handful and gobbled them down. A Pepsi chaser completed my snack. It was then back to my run/walk along the tow path.
Another interesting observation I make is that people can see runners they are approaching for long distances because there are wide bends in the river. Because the day was warming up, I decided I needed to put my hair in a pony tail. I have very long hair (it reaches the middle of my back). This means even with a small breeze, my hair gets tangled and knotted. It took me a very long time to "Finger comb" my hair to get out all the tangles and knots (next year I vow to bring a comb in my fanny pack). This chore occupied me for a good 10-15 minutes at least (as if I had anything better to do with my time anyway). Well finally I was pretty happy with the end result of minimal tangles and knots. I then pulled all my hair into my ponytail holder. But, I didn't really like where I thought it was (or what I thought it looked like). I wanted to make sure I looked good for my 50 miler took it out and tried again and again. Finally, I was satisfied with the end result. A gentleman runner jogged up alongside me and mentioned he had watched me for the last 400 meters or so and said my hair looked really hot (he also concurred with my goal that I look good during the 50 miler). I think he was just kidding but I was pretty amused that he noticed my repeated attempts to get my hair to behave. Overall, during the section between Harpers Ferry and Antietam, I am pretty happy, have minimal health issues and am feeling good.
Antietam to Mile 38
At Antietam, which is mile 27 of this ultra-marathon, I still am doing pretty well. I see my crew and take off my pants (big mistake...I should have taken them off but carried them as it was the peak warmth of the day giving me a false sense of warmth), I take off my thickest long sleeve shirt (this was okay because it was the warmest part of the day) and take a marathon bar and some Gatorade. I have/am being passed off to a new crew because I am burning up the course with a blistering pace... At this point I am on target to complete the 50 miler within 12 hours. Right after a visit with my crew, it is time to check out the food at the aid station, particularly since it was lunch time. This may shock you but again I homed in on the M&M's and banana's and decided they would make a pleasant lunch. Of course since I did not know what time it is, I decided that a Pepsi chaser was appropriate. I now am convinced that it was past my daily 1 p.m. cut off for caffeine, but that day I was throwing caution to the wind.
At Antietam I was supposed to have run into my husband, Tristan, and was a bit panicked. I looked distressed enough so a nice spectator offered me the use of his phone to determine where Tristan was. Tristan was only a few hundred feet ahead. I jogged up to him and explained that I was depressed again (again the whole emotionally rollercoaster was back). Tristan (who works as a statistician at the FDA, just like I do) had worked on Neurology and Psychiatric drugs, which include anti-depressants. In this capacity he keeps on top of literature and research related to depression. A recent article that his boss had pointed out suggested that runners do not get depressed. At this point I suggested Tristan call up and tell his boss this article is nonsense because I was really depressed. Only 27 miles down and 23 miles to go. Twenty-three miles is a long distance particularly when it's going to be after a marathon's worth of distance. Well, just putting one foot in front of the other, I exited Antietam.
This section of the race was pretty uneventful. I met up with various runners doing walk/runs but never could stick with anyone who ran exactly my pace. But I was able to run spurts with various people, which was nice. It kept the run interesting, enlarged my social circle and kept my spirits up. Although getting through Antietam was a bummer (because you know how much you have left), the next section was a bit easier because you could start thinking less than 20 miles to go, less than 18, less than 15 etc., as you passed various mile markers on the C&O Canal Towpath. This was also very easy running since the towpath was flat, wide and obstacles were not hidden below leaf cover. The weather continued to be very nice, it was sunny no significant wind and not too hot or super cold (although I did regret not having pants every time we were running in shadow). The scenery was quite nice. There were lots of trees many in vibrant fall colors, the river is pretty and low lying hills surround the river and towpath. It is a crisp fall day perfect for running a 50 miler.
During this section, I resumed by role as a "space cadet" during in interaction with some emergency/rescue personnel in which I was/acted confused (but this time I could not blame the cold or the early hour). I think this confusion caused the emergency personnel a little concerned (the issue is related to my lack of math skills not incoherence as they might have suspected). I guess they wanted to make sure folks were okay, so were asking random questions to runners. I was asked, "What time is it?" Not exactly sure how to answer I looked at my watch saw something around 8:00 or so and then said "it is 8 hours after I stared which is 5 a.m., which means it is ......( I gave no response for the time because I had absolutely no idea what time it was and could not figure out how to add 8 hours to 5 a.m. to get a time of the day-even now it is only with MS Excel's help I can compute it and tell it is 3 p.m.-ish). Well, I think failing this test got me the other questions including "What day is it?" (the day the JFK 50 miler is being run was my response-how was I supposed to know it was Nov 19th"?), "Who was the president" (oh I got really excited because I finally had one question I could answer. I do and I even state my opinion, and let me just say I have some strong opinions and I gave them in my response ....). I think finally I passed their coherence test and I was left alone. (But, they could have offered up their transportation!!).
Continuing on my run/jog/walk/amble, I started experiencing my first bits of pain in my knee (not sure if it from the AT falls or from being hit by a car leading to several surgeries about 5-10 years ago). My ankle started hurting quite badly (this pain was definitely a by-product of my fall). Volunteers, spectators, hikers and others would pass us on bikes, horses, golf carts and all sorts of other transportation. This bummed me out. I also started thinking that if I just headed south instead of north on the C&O Canal, I could be home by now (or at least really close). I found people to be very funny during this section. There were lots of jokes, amusing stories and anecdotes, anything to keep our spirits up. Everyone I ran with, near or even got passed by were all very nice and while I had some discomfiture, I was happy that I was closer to the finish then I was to the start.
Mile 38 to mile 42, the end of C&O Canal Towpath section
Mile 38 (or the "38 special", as the runners refer to it) was one of the highlights of the run for me. I was extremely amused by the "pharmacy" set up on the first table in the aid station. There was pretty much every single over the counter product known to man (maybe even some not known to man). I had my pain meds in my fanny pack so did not need to partake but am comforted to know if I did not have the pharmaceutical to treat what ailed me, this table probably had it! The crowds here were exceptionally excited, which was much needed and the food at this aid station included most everything one could want. There was Mt Dew, Chicken Soup, Ramen noodles (cooked and raw), pretzels, brownies, cookies, etc. Since I needed a treat and wanted to prevent any cramping I stuck with my old stand-by M&M's and Banana's. But to "spice" things up a bit I also grabbed some cookies and make a modified s'more. Next year I must have my husband bring some marshmallows because s'mores would have been awesome! Of course I was also eating Marathon bars about every 5-10 miles but the marathon bars I did not need to only eat at the aid station since they were portable.
At mile 38 I learned I had officially been transferred to a new crew, Hank and Doreen Schonzeit. At this crew-stop I knew I needed my pants but also knew if I sat down, I would NEVER get back up. I had my crew (and some other random Reston Runner crew) man-handle me into my pants (this time no wardrobe malfunctions occurred because I knew about the zipper). I got both my spandex and my wind-pants on. I also grabbed a thicker shirt since it was starting to get cooler as the afternoon progressed. I figured out that I had only 12 more miles to go and about 4 hours to do it. While not a piece of cake, I could see myself finishing as long as no tragedy occurred. This made me happy. The fact that I was limping heavily, could not bend my right leg and my ankle was excruciating did not make me happy. But I continued moving along.
I think strictly speaking I no longer was doing a run/walk, but more a walk/shuffle with occasional bursts of jogging (burst being defined as 2-3 steps in quick succession.... and jogging being defined a legs moving forward ....). This section was tough on everyone. Very few complained but you could see in everyone's gait that the 38 miles had taken their toll. Tristan, my husband, ran/walked with me for about ½ mile here trying to give me words of encouragement. This made me feel a little bit better. But I mentioned to him that running still doesn't really prevent depression because I was depressed again. Up until this point the run was a roller coaster, I would be happy, then sad, amused, then distressed, excited, then resolute and optimistic. This section is where the pain really started kicking in significantly. But everyone was so nice and kind and we couldn't disappoint everyone. We couldn't let down our crews, the people who supported our training and ourselves, so we all dug deep. I am pretty sure most of us dug so deep we grabbed our intestines...
The next 4 miles on the C&O canal towpath went by very slowly. I kept thinking to myself only a few more miles then just a short (8 mile) road race to the finish. The C&O canal section was complete at mile 42 and it was time to receive your reflective gear for the final road portion of the race.
Road Section of Race: Mile 42 to Finish line
Almost immediately upon getting on the road I had a painful revelation and learned I did not enjoy running on the road as much as I thought I would. While we no longer had to watch out for indents, sticks, branches, rocks etc, the road was a hard surface. And immediately after getting onto the road it was time to climb a steep mountain (did they move Mt. Everest to MD for the race"?). I took the advice I had been given previously and decided to walk anything that looked like an uphill or even slight incline up. I took this directive very seriously and if there was the remotest chance it might be a hill I walked it (no need to get crazy at the end of the race, became my philosophy). Sadly going downhill also was a challenge as my gimpy knee wouldn't bend. Thus all downhill's got walked, also. Next year I will bring a level to ensure I am extra careful and I am not running unnecessarily).
The final aid station I grabbed a handful of M&M's and a banana just to keep the trend alive. I gobbled them up and "ran" along. A few minutes later I "ran" by my crew and picked up a companion, Hank, the husband half of my adopted crew. I actually sort of ran by this stop and he had to catch up to me (not exactly the hardest thing since I was averaging a pace that I would guess was somewhere between a snails and a tortoise). He jogged with me for the last 4 miles keeping up a good conversation. I felt really badly for him because he was dressed in a very lightweight shirt and shorts. I was not doing well and although I wanted to go fast, my knee and ankle didn't (and I had maxed out the number of painkillers that is "safe" as per the FDA at about mile 10). I did the best I could for his benefit trying to run as much as I could but I know my 25% "run"/ 75% walk was not a good ratio for someone wanting to stay warm. I had bundled up with 2 pairs of pants, several long sleeve shirts, and two pairs of gloves because I had spent some of the afternoon cold because of just wearing shorts, so I did not need to move fast to warm up. Also because of having started running before sunrise, I knew the temperature would fall significantly without the sun. Soon enough the sun did set. I had less than 1 mile to go and knew I would make it.
Walking/shuffling and once in a while walking at a fast clip, I was getting close to the finish (luckily we had been told it was right near a water tower that you could see from about mile 48.5). Because of this landmark, I knew I basically had made it. I passed the gas station, where my husband was, he took a picture (not sure if it turned out considering it was dark), and I moved forward. The finish line was up a slight incline; however, I broke my/their rule this once by "running" up it. The announcer thought I was skipping to the finish line, but in fact my knee hadn't bent since about mile 38 (and even publicly announced this). But these crowds might have been standing there for the past four hours, so they deserved to see some effort on my part. Finally I crossed the finish line and it was over. I had started running before sunrise (5:00 a.m.), and finished after sunset (5:25 p.m.) and ran all through the day. It was quite an accomplishment and I was really proud of myself. Immediately I told my husband I never would do it again because my knee was so painful. About 10 minutes later I reconsidered. Since then, I am determined and committed to do it again next year.
After the race was over, it was time to go in the gym to meet up with my crew, get my stuff and get some food (one cannot live on M&M's and Banana's alone). They had the BEST pizza ever in the gym (and I usually do not like Pizza much). They also had the best fried chicken (and I do not eat or like fried food). They also had a large assortment of snack cakes including: "Ho Ho's", "Ding Dong's", "Twinkies", "Ring Dings", etc. I was in heaven... I double fisted the snack cakes and had my fill of pizza and relaxed a bit. After recovering a bit, I went back out to the finish line to cheer the other athletes on. It was great to see the expressions of satisfaction, accomplishment and sheer joy on the runner's faces. It is a tremendous achievement that all who complete it should be very proud of. Finally at 6:56 p.m., the announcer said no more runners were going to finish. All 951 runners who made the time cuts had crossed the finish line were accounted for.
As my husband drove me home, I reflected on what was one of the best days of my life. I had met so many nice people, been encouraged by so many kind strangers, accomplished such a challenging and difficult goal and had a great time doing it. I will run the 50 miler again, hopefully many times for many years to come.
The JFK 50 miler is an awesome race that is well organized and well run by the Cumberland Valley Athletic Club. The Reston Runner's are also a group of folks that deserve vast amounts of "Kudos". For anyone considering doing the JFK 50 miler, you will be accepted by Reston Runners even if you are from "the wrong side of the river". The runners help you with advice on how to successfully complete the race. An extra perk is the availability of a mentor to give advice. My mentor was Diane Lathom who really helped by providing answers to my questions and by giving me valuable advice and insider hints. The Reston Runner crews are great. The efficiently and effectively move your stuff along as you move along the course (even if it is filled with "rocks"). They all are wonderful at keeping you motivated and giving you pep talks along the way. I know without the Reston Runners this would have been significantly more difficult. All deserve my thanks and one person in particular was exceptional: Anna Bradford. She is an inspiration to all, she is a great leader, cheerleader, organizer and motivator and all around wonderful person. Coordinators, Anna Bradford and Jim Ashworth did a wonderful job organizing the Reston Runners JFK teams and for that I am very thankful!
One weekend after the JFK 50 miler, my husband and I went hiking/walking with our dog, Gilligan, along the C&O canal towpath at Penny Locks near our home in Gaithersburg MD (about 30 miles downriver from Harpers Ferry). We were minding our own business (me reminiscing about the good old days when I ran the 50 miler-even by this point I had forgotten the pain, suffering and my initial finishing reaction which had been never again). A deer (a female, we believe, because of the lack of antlers) came running out of the woodsy area between the C&O canal and the Potomac River. Instead of seeing the large dog and running away (Gilligan is a very large and furry 115 lb. Bernese Mountain Dog), this deer started running at us. My life basically flashed before my eyes (and I have two witnesses to this incident: the dog and the husband) as this transpired. Finally the deer veered off and jumped into the canal, swam to the other side and disappeared into the woods. And people laughed at my concern about getting attacked by a deer, but the deer here are crazy! Had this occurred on the AT section of the race (without my trusted dog), I think I would have either jumped off the cliff or been charged and attacked by the deer.
My other experience with the JFK 50 miler has to do with my toenails (or should I say my lack of toenails?) I started this past summer with 10 perfectly good toenails. About 1 week after the JFK 50 miler, two toenails turned black. They subsequently have fallen off. The first valuable lesson I have learned is that there is no toenail fairy (you would think with the effort and pain that gets a toenail to fall off, there would be a toenail fairy ready to give $0.41-at least based on the price of a tooth; which by the way this was the 1970's rate. I assume with inflation teeth are worth more now...). Sadly, black toenails can be "solved" via bright red nail polish (what you don't see doesn't exist in my world), but missing toenails are a more difficult challenge. One can paint the "area" where a toenail should be, but it just looks really fake and pathetic. I am considering getting a "Lee press on nail kit" to see if a fake toenail looks more acceptable. In the meantime I am just happy it is winter and I live in the suburbs of DC, so I have 5 or 6 months for the toenail(s) to grow back. I also wonder, if I do splurge on a pedicure in the near future, will I get an 8 toenail discount"?