There’s a First Time For Everything.

As a runner, every once and awhile a new race comes along that intrigues you, and you think “why not give it a shot?” Such is the case with the latest event I did, which was the Ironstone 100K.

Ironstone was indeed an inaugural event here in 2022. The fact it was the first year for the event didn’t bother me—it was one of many firsts, as you’ll learn reading this post.

I’m not even totally sure where I first learned of Ironstone, but I think it was from a suggestion on Instagram if my memory serves me right. At their website I fully learned about the event particulars. The event sounded great in that it was point-to-point opposed to the loop races that I seem to be stuck in a rut of signing up for. Whether it’s just 2 or 3 loops or many, many in a 10-hour or 12-hour race, eventually monotony sets in. No loops on this course—good! Also intriguing was a 2PM start time that would have me tackling the course all through the night for the first time ever! This was something I’ve been wanting to do as I decide whether to tackle a 100-miler, where running through the night will happen no matter what. The course description and profile appeared interesting as well, with the a rail trail making up the first 20-ish miles before the up and down and more technical trail section(s) of the race.

So after some more thought and making sure I get through some buildup of long training runs OK, (I had been experiencing one area of discomfort after my prior ultra), I decided to give it a go!

Offical race logo

I secured a campground spot at the State Park (Greenwood Furnace) where the finish to the race was going to be. They provided a shuttle from there to the start line, so that was no issue. I took it easy the morning of the race, and believe me it was nice to “sleep in a little” on race morning. So it gave me some extra shut eye and time to prepare mentally without that “wake up and get going right away” procedure of a normal early start. It also gave me time to double-check I had all necessary items in my pack.

We were shuttled to Canoe Creek State Park for the start, and from my brief time there it looked beautiful with the big lake and hills in the background. After getting my bib and usual trip to the bathroom, I just tried to rest and did talk to a few other runners for a bit. It came time for the pre-race meeting and upon the RD finishing his words he told us to line up because the race starts in one-and-a-half minutes. That time went quick and just like that we were off. There were about 70 runners total. I started probably in the first 3rd of runners but kept just an easy pace on the flat section to start. After a few minutes we encountered our first hill, though it wasn’t that long or steep compared to what would come later in the race.

I got hot fairly quickly. The sun was out most all morning but it seemed to really heat up despite the forecast for just mid to high 80s. It also felt humid. I feel we got lucky though for July in Pennsylvania—it could have been a lot hotter for sure!

I have to say… the early miles didn’t really feel all that good to me. I felt somewhat lethargic and that the flat section after the first hill should have been easier. I was beginning to think that maybe today wasn’t going to be the day, and that it might make for a big disappointment. But after exiting the park and reaching the very flat rail trail section I began to find a rhythm and really start to loosen up, and that thought of a bad day… well I left it back where it started (thankfully!)

The rail trail section at times seemed like it would go on forever. I was running with someone very early on but after taking a walking break we got separated and then I was basically running most all of it with no one really close around except for a short spell. That solitude did allow me to successfully do one thing though—chi running. I was very focused on correct breathing and using good running form and very minimal excess movement or energy, and instead save it for the rugged parts ahead. I got refueled at each of the 4 aid stations on the rail trail and then another small hill ensued followed by some road running through a small sleepy town before finally starting up the first big climb!

This is where the race would really change for sure. It would no longer be super flat or be very runnable basically most of the rest of the race. The terrain would turn up and down and much, much more technical, sometimes seeming like mile after mile over rocks. Ironstone is really 2 races in one. A rather easy first third of the race, followed by the remaining two-thirds of something completely different. If you wished for a change of pace from the flat rail trail, it now would turn into something completely the opposite, and from getting through it I’d say you’d better learn to embrace the new terrain and pace because it would be unrelenting for the vast majority of the race until the finish line.

My pace slowed along with everyone’s, however, I did catch up to some others ahead of me and together 4 of us trekked along the start of the ridge running and 3 of us hiking up the access road to aid station 5. By then my stomach was starting to feel a somewhat funny. I ate a little but rather minimally and tried to calm it with some ginger ale. That did seem to work. The four of us all left the aid station together again as a pack and it was helpful having others at the same pace around me. It wasn’t too long after leaving this aid station that we stopped and put on our headlamps. We didn’t need them quite yet but much easier to see now than when partially dark.

This would lead to one of my other firsts. It would be my first time I’d run/hike all through the night. That was something I’d wanted to do for awhile, and hoped to in 2021 when attempting my first 24hr race but that just wasn’t my day and didn’t even make it to the night running portion. Night running would be something I’d need to have experience with in attempting a 100 miler.

So now it was Ironstone where I’d make my (full all-night) night running debut. Luckily I didn’t have much reservation about this which was good.

I don’t recall exactly where or how but the group of 4 of us got split up, and upon it truly getting dark it was me and another guy from that group of 4 that tackled the course together. We kinda of leapfrogged back and forth awhile while basically going at the same pace. Each of us saved the other a time or two with keeping the other on the trail. This was important because for large sections there were no ribbon or flagging, but instead just following the blazes on the trees, which is slower and more difficult.

Messages to myself as a reminder for success

Toward the end of this section the trail exited onto a dirt road. It was a nice switch especially since it was downhill and finally a chance to run. The course veered onto an old access road but still runnable and just a nice way to really get the legs moving again. It wasn't long before back onto dirt road again and onto the next aid station. It was welcomed. My stomach was slowly feeling worse like I have the feeling of getting sick if I’ll try to eat anything. At this point I still could eat a little something but not a lot. It was also nice to sit awhile too and just rest.

I had kinda lost track of time and how I was time-wise within the race. It was right around midnight. I asked the one race volunteer how close I was to cut-off of this aid station. She almost laughed and stated I was WELL ahead of cut-off and had nothing to worry about. Her next statement to me was “Did you know you're in 11th place overall?” I replied with “No, I had no idea.” This made me feel good knowing I was near the top and doing well time-wise. Several runners had already dropped from the race for one reason or another.

The other runner I was with leading up to this aid station, he and I left here at the same time and right off the bat out of the aid station is a section of the trail called “Indian Steps.” This was steep!! I later found out it was a 500ft climb on this section. Despite going at it at just a relaxed pace I still had to stop several times to catch my breath. I even had to take it easy upon reaching the summit as for several minutes my hamstrings felt tight and uncomfortable.

From here my memory grows foggy. I do remember thinking it will a long time before reaching another aid station and hearing cheering again and the opportunity to try and eat. The next “aid station” was a water only station 6.2 miles away, and then another 7.4 miles to the full aid station. It was some runnable sections luckily but not extensively leading up to the water only station, but after that it was just more navigating over rock after rock after rock. Some monotony did set in but I just kept pressing onward. Doing the math in my head, I felt even having to hike EVERYTHING to the finish I’d still be able to make it in time for a successful finish.

Race officials wrote inspirational words on racer's bibs!

We were in the wee hours of the night now. I was surprised I felt as good as I did. I didn’t feel sleepy at all yet. The other “first time for everything” moment though did start to arise. I slowly ticked off mile after mile, and while the legs felt fine and had minimal issue(s), my stomach started getting the best of me and I had to push through what was the lowest of lows for me. At one point I drank some water to stay hydrated—it still seemed rather warm and humid throughout the night, but my stomach didn’t seem to agree much. In a little while I started feeling sick and with basically nothing in my stomach started to dry-heave. The only thing to bring up was mucus really. This just stopped me in my tracks and forced me to slow a bit. It would take me awhile to catch up to my running buddy I’ve had for miles on end. As I slowly got closer to within a few miles of that next aid station with food I began to try and think of what I could try and get in me to revitalize me. My stomach was still not having it, for just the thought the thought of the eating made me dry-heave again. This wasn’t a good sign, but I knew to finish I’d have to figure something out, for the few ultras have challenged me in some way or another and I was very determined to make this one work.

We finally arrived at the aid station with food. It was a welcome sound hearing cheering. Another welcome site was the daylight had already appeared, barely even needing my headlamp. I tried some soup broth and noodles which actually didn’t taste too bad to me and didn’t cause me to get sick. I was really forcing myself to get something in me because I still had a half marathon distance to complete—including the longest uphill in the entire race yet. I drank, ate a little more and rested some.

I pretty much felt ready to go again when the other 3 runners at that aid station (all guys I’d run with earlier) were getting ready to go back out too. I wanted to stay with them and have that be the help I needed to pull me to the finish. Well that lasted all of 5 minutes maybe. I just couldn’t keep up at their pace. In my head I knew I’d be fine though. I just kept at it and slowly ticked off mile after mile. I stopped ever so briefly at the one rock outcropping to look around to the valley to my left as the sun was fully out by now. It was very scenic. I pressed onward eventually catching up to my running buddy from through the night and we both arrived at the second water only station. I was good for hydration so I just rested a little and but away my headlamp and chest lamp while once again digging out my hat from my pack.

I was dropped again by my running buddy and slowly made it to the final aid station. It seemed so laid back at this aid station compared to the others—no music, no lights (well it was daylight anyway), and no cowbell. When asked what they can get me I stated “A new stomach,” which got quite the round of laughs and stating they’d heard that several times. I drank some ginger ale to calm the stomach and used the bathroom while resting just a little again. During my rest another runner I’d been running with way back around mile 5 rolled into the aid station. I’d actually been wondering if he was still out there? It a pick-me-up to see another familiar face so late in race.

The view before turning back onto the trail for the final climb.

I was ready to just finish this off now. Five more miles and I’m done. Not so easy though! That largest and longest hill—well now is where that comes into play. It didn’t seem steep early in the hill but did eventually get more technical and steep at the same time. It was like Indian Steps all over again, hiking for a short stretch and then catching my breath again despite taking it easy. I have to admit I thought it would be way worse though. I felt relief near the top where it started to level out and I knew the very worst was over and it was all downhill to the finish.

Of course that couldn’t really be easy though either. On the downhill I managed to inadvertently kick a rock really hard with my right foot. As luck would have it I’d catch 2 or 3 more rocks on the same foot right at the big and second toes. They were almost throbbing now. I knew I’d probably done some damage because I saw a small spot on my shoe that was “reddish.” Later I’d find out both toes were very sore and a partially damaged nail on my big toe.

Regardless, the last 3 miles seemed to take forever. The course still had its share of rocks, and now especially having kicked several, I was ready to just be done with the race. It was already my longest 100K time-wise, so for many, many miles now I didn’t make much effort to run, instead soaking up nature and hearing the birds sing and taking it easy.

I finally reached the clearing where when first got to the park I saw the race flagging and knew as soon as turn the corner I’d probably see people again and cheering for the finish line! As I reached the parking lot some volunteers started cheering and I actually did start running again and made it around the final corner and crossed that finish line!!!

It was a great feeling to finish! My running buddy through the night came over and congratulated me. A volunteer gave me my finisher’s prizes and directed me where I could get food and drink. Surprisingly upon seeing M&M’s they actually appealed to me! Then the runner I saw at the final aid station came across the finish line and we exchanged congratulations to each other. The runner I had talked to extensively on the shuttle to start had seen me and he came over to say great job on my finish. We swapped stories as I rested some more.

All the swag!! Love that flannel shirt!

My finish time was 20 hours and 38 minutes. That was a result of extensive hiking over technical terrain. On the flip side my legs never felt better after 63 miles than at the end of this race. I probably could have run the very next day (I didn't.) It was my slowest 100K to date but I'll take away the feeling knowing I can overcome new challenges and new obstacles and still be successful!

2021 World’s End 100K race report

 

Three is my lucky number. My favorite number. This year was my 3rd running the World’s End 100K Ultramarathon. I felt confident in my training and how I felt going into the race, and with it being one of my favorite races (despite it’s difficult course), I was ready to set a personal course PR. As it turns out 3 was not lucky.

Weather forecasts leading up to the race showed it was supposed to be hot (mid-high 80’s), and of course this was the one time the weather forecasters would be right!

Pre-race went well though the 5:00AM start time came up quickly, but I still had all my gear ready and most of all I (mentally speaking) was ready. The early start is almost magical-so many people setting out to challenge themselves with all they have. There are headlights galore. I’m biased as a trail runner but a string of headlamps shining in a row in the darkness in the woods is a magical and beautiful sight.

It was already warm and muggy at the start. I started sweating early. The first few miles are filled with inclines and declines, with one section feeling more like low level rock climbing than trail running. Overall these early miles went fine. After passing the first aid station my GI system seemed to not feel the best. Things calmed down after taking care of things at aid station 2 and the long descent to the creek and ensuing section along the creek were enjoyable, one of my favorite sections really. It went by too fast and soon it was uphill into the woods again. I gained some confidence on this section as I passed just a few others-always a plus passing people on hills. Upon summiting the top it was a nice descent back toward the park, though just technical enough to be tricky. I stopped one time to check on another runner as the guy just in front of me literally did a face plant into the ground. How he was hurt more than just being dirty and shaken is beyond me.

I came up aid station 4 back at the park in ~4.5 hrs, and it’s always a good feeling rolling in there as there’s many people  and volunteers to cheer you on before you head back out and immediately head up a steep hill. Though only 2.9 miles to the next aid station at the beautiful Canyon Vista, there are several hills involved and not an easy stretch. It went by fairly fast though I must admit and I felt good about reaching Canyon Vista. I ate and got my water refilled and set out again.

The stretch to the next aid station 6 isn’t overly difficult but it seemed to take a long time. I know we had to cross World’s End Road since I saw the flagging driving to the park but it felt like a lifetime to reach the road. Pretty flat to the aid station though. It is also probably my favorite! The Pagoda Pacers that man this aid station are out there yelling in the woods and you can hear them long before you ever reach the aid station. It’s a pick me up for sure! And where do I start about the food? Freeze Pops! On a hot day like it was, YES PLEASE! And they had bacon! I love bacon during a long race!

I left this aid station feel good. It was the last one I could legitimately say that. I made sure to have hydration filled because from here it’s the longest stretch to the next aid station-just over 8 miles. I also don’t really care for that stretch of the course either. It has a few nice spots but all in all it’s just nothing overly exciting.

I didn’t get to aid station 7 (High Knob) as quick as I wanted to and that angered me a bit. It was the first I started to realize things were getting tough. And to me, the race doesn’t truly begin until you get to this point because from here the course has some major ups and downs. It was after 2PM so it was really heating up by now and nothing really appealed to me to eat at this aid station other than the grilled cheese sandwiches they had. I forced myself to eat some and again drink. I was doing much better with hydration on race day. 

I set out and just kept what pace I could but I could tell things were tougher and I was slowing. Luckily at the bottom of the huge descent there was water running in the creek (a huge disappointment last year when it was wasn’t) and I stopped briefly to cool off in it. I just put my head down and kept a nice slow but steady pace up the ensuing hill that is almost a mile long and probably the most challenging on the course. After some more ups and downs I slowly approached aid station 8.

It was here where I didn’t feel great. I was OK at the last aid station but this one not so much. Nothing appealed to me to eat which wasn’t good. The only thing I wanted to drink was water. That’s important but you can’t solely rely on that. The course electrolyte drink (Endura—I think?) wasn’t appealing to me earlier so I stopped drinking that. That was most likely a mistake. At the least, I should have been taking in some and then wash it down with water to get the aftertaste away. Why I didn’t mix my other pack of Propel mix I had with me I don’t know either because I do like that and it did appeal to me earlier.

I felt rather deflated at this point 42 miles into the race but I was OK on time and would have to continue to finish obviously. My legs weren’t feeling to tired yet so that was a plus at least. From here on out though things just went downhill- and not the kind that you like via descent in elevation of the trail. The next aid station was a water only station ~4 miles away. It took forever to reach it it felt like and later than the lone hour I figured it would take. Instead it was 1.25 hours. This further deflated me. There was more hiking involved. The sun was slowing (starting) to sink in the sky (or so it felt for at only 6PM.)

The next true aid station (10, Brunnerdale) was about another 4 miles away. Leaving the water station I was soon passed by 2 other runners with one having a pacer. They all offered words of encouragement and 2 asking how I was. Their replies were just keep pushing on and do your best, still plenty of time. This did pick me up and I tried keeping up with the trailing runner and his pacer but had trouble hanging with them, slowly watching them pull away from me. I felt the only way I could continue was hanging with someone.

With 2 more good climbs left before Brunnerdale, it was here where I feel like I’d reached a new low. Each of those seemed slow. While I expected the physical breakdown, I didn’t expect the mental and emotional  breakdown I was experiencing. There was a lot more of me that just felt finished and didn’t want to be out there any longer. This is unusual for me and didn’t quite know how to deal with it. Again the physical aspect of how I felt crept in. The steps up the climbs seemed laborious. I knew there were several more climbs between aid stations 10 and 12 and the way my legs felt I was sure how I make it that far, yet alone to the end. I hadn’t been eating much and I think my energy was low regarding my muscle performance. I remembered I hadn’t drank in awhile so I drank some water. Several steps down the trail I started to feel sick and vomit bring up basically just some liquid and not much else. My stomach wasn’t my friend.

I kinda took this as the final sign as maybe it just wasn’t meant to be today. I hiked with less purpose the final mile or so to Brunnerdale. As I got close there were many people there and they started cheering. It felt so ironic hearing those cheers knowing that in less than a minute I’d tell the race officials that my day is done.

And that is what I did. It was a conscious decision as I was ahead of the cutoff. Things get funny here because I lost track of time. I had also thought leading up to this aid station that it was an hour later than it was. I couldn’t do the math in my head of X number of hours past 5AM and I calculated wrong. Why I didn’t play with my watch to see what time in actual watch mode (duh!) I have no idea. So instead of arriving a half hour later than I ever have a that aid station I was a half hour AHEAD of that time.

Overall, I don’t know if that would have been enough though. The simple strain it felt going up that last hill seemed so overwhelming. I still had just shy of 14 miles to get to the finish and that felt like it would have been another 50 on top of what I just did really.

So my 2021 World’s End 100K ultramarathon ended with a DNF at mile 50. It hurt handing over that bib to race officials but it was just what needed done. I didn’t have much of anything left in tank whether it be physically, mentally, or emotionally.

This was my first DNF. I guess to clarify a bit, I’ve done some 12hr race where I didn’t run out the clock, so perhaps to purists or how you view that, maybe some will call those DNF’s too despite timed events being scored differently. But for any non-timed event style of race this was my first DNF.

I knew this was in all likelihood inevitable, but there’s still a part of me disappointed. I’m just the type that doesn’t like not finishing something they started. That is part of the experience and excitement of ultrarunning though, seeing just how good you are on any given day, and most of all learning from each race regardless of how it went.

2019 Boulder Field 100K Race Report

Today I’m bringing your a race report on the latest ultramarathon I’ve run, the Boulder Field 100K, which was held at Hickory Run State Park in Carbon County, Pennsylvania.

This was my second 100K race both this year and overall, and marks my 13th ultramarathon to date.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect leading into this race, my first 100K was very difficult (very technical and tons of vert) and though this race was not going to be the same, it did have a final cutoff that was 3 hours shorter. So I was hoping the lack the elevation change would help me finish on time and my only true goal was to beat that 16 hour time limit. I considered getting under 15 hours to be my “B” goal. Anything beyond that would just be icing on the cake.

I camped out at the park on Friday night and had picked up my bib and the hat and pullover they were giving to participants at early packet pickup Friday evening to have less to worry about race morning. This also let me know where things were and orient myself race morning since it was going to be dark for the 5AM start.

The course is a figure 8 type route, with a 13 mile shorter loop followed by the larger 18 mile loop that totals 50K. 100K runners obviously run this twice. I had a park map that I marked on the turns from what the race sent online and carried that map with me just in case I made a wrong turn but didn’t need the map at all. Race workers had the course very well marked I thought, though I did hear of a few runners taking a wrong turn. I think that was a result of them not paying attention but that’s just my opinion. As for other info on the course, the website for the race, (uberendurancesports.com), stated that it has about 4000ft elevation per feet 50K loop. It was mostly trail (of all sorts), just a bit road running, and of course the crossing of the boulder field!

I had signed up for this race about 2 months ago, but when I looked into this race a little more than a week or so before its date, I realized it was much smaller than I thought. The last 3 years there were only about 3 dozen finishers on average. This made me realize that I’d probably have to run a fair portion of the race on my own at times, which ultimately lead to be true.

Not only did the race have few finishers, but that was a result of few starters. I had heard where there were 43 starters, and the crowd did look small during pre-race announcements. I was actually shocked that it was 43 runners honestly. The 50K and 18 mile races had many more runners participate. Race officials states it was about 400 total participants in the 3 distances. Clearly the 100K is not the race of choice!

Nonetheless, pre-race announcements were short and with a very short countdown, we were off to it!

The start of the race is slight downhill and then a quick road crossing that takes you basically right through the park campground until reaching a single track trail that truly gets you into the woods and having that trail race feel. The first few miles were flatter than I expected, and due to this I likely went out too fast. My first mile was definitely too fast I saw when I went back and reviewed the splits from my watch—a 9:37 first mile. Note to self—don’t do that again! Honestly I didn’t think I was running that fast though. Through those first few miles I was at the tail end of the second pack of runners.

I wasn’t long before I came upon the first aid station at mile 5. I looked at my watch and saw I was under and hour! This meant sub 12 minute mile pace so far and I knew I had to slow it down because for me that is very quick to even attempt to sustain for even a 50K, yet alone a 100K. I drank some liquid and spent minimal time here, moving on but being mindful of slowing down.

It wasn’t long before I would slow down due to the course. The next 5 miles until you come back around and hit that same aid station at mile 10 are the hilliest miles of the course. The trail slowly meandered upward and runners spread out a bit. There were finally the first glimpses of daylight. Up and up we went and upon coming to a lookout of the Lehigh River, it was about 1.5 hours into the race and I could finally feel comfortable with turning off my headlamp. The course changed back to single track and lead back down the hill to that same aid station.

I looked at my watch when I first saw the aid station tent and it showed 2:00:29. Again I was still averaging 12 minute miles exactly. I spent minimal time at the aid station again, only slightly longer as I put my headlamp in my race pack since there was plenty of light now despite it being cloudy. I laughed as the runner in front of me told the aid station workers “see you again at lunch time!” His words would definitely hold true though.

The next few miles back to the start/finish were some of the most scenic in my opinion. There was a spot just a few minutes after the aid station were you ran through a tunnel of rhododendron. I don’t know what it is about that species of shrub/tree, but I always love seeing them along a race course, and going through a canopy of them is even better!

Rhododendron around mile 11

Just farther down is another highlight, the Shades of Death Trail. It is a lot spookier sounding than what it is though. While not easy, any average hiker or even children can handle it. It just has some tricky spots with LOTS of roots and some with lots of rocks, some slightly wet. Just take your time though and you’ll be fine. Overall it is a very picturesque trail. You’ll see water cascading over rocks several spots with one waterfall near an old dam. There’s also a spot where rocks form steps between two huge boulders. It might be a tough spot to squeeze through if you’re hiking and would have a wide backpack.

Squeezing though here!

After finishing the 1-mile Shades of Death Trail it’s only a short way to the start/finish. I made sure the race official had my number to check in and grabbed some aid station food while also getting fluid. Each aid station I made sure to drink. That is kinda a weakness of mine (being underhydrated) and with these recent long race I’ve been making more of effort to be conscious to correct it. Overall I didn’t spend too much time there and went out for the second part of the first lap.

From here the course is more flat and easier to run, but the fact I ran the first 13ish miles fast I had to incorporate some (purposeful) walking breaks. I didn’t really enjoy the next 5 miles to the next aid station that much—I don’t know, just nothing exciting to see and too flat. There was small section mixed in there that was singletrack trail and did enjoy that part but that was about it. The only good thing was I was now catching up to the back of pack for the 18 mile distance runners and there was some company.

I hit the next aid station and ate some more and kept moving. Out of the aid station was a long gentle downhill and then a turn onto the Boulder Field Trail. It quickly turned more technical and difficult which I liked at first. Eventually the trail became VERY narrow and mildly overgrown. Since I was running with trekking poles, the narrow trail made it hard to advance them. It was also hard to pass anyone. I made it through there and I can say it was very cool eventually when you could see more daylight and catch the first glimpse of the Boulder Field! This to me is the highlight of race and of course what gives the race its name.

Boulder Field

I wasn’t sure how this section would go but it turned out to be fine. I took it cautiously to avoid injury but most of the rocks were really stable. I actually gained “ground” on other runners and passed a few. Some people seemed to really be struggling with this section. I thought it was fun. I did stop for 10-20 seconds a few times just to take in the spectacle of it all since this was the first time ever seeing it. I didn’t want to totally miss the beauty of everything, even if I was in a race.

Coming out of the boulder field was an aid station again. It was there where they had bacon. I had one piece and I swear it tasted like the best, most succulent piece of bacon I had ever ate. Really—it tasted that good! I drank some more, thanked  the volunteers and kept moving. By now runners were reaching the farthest reaches of the park. To me, again the course was “boring.” At one long stretch it was very narrow again. Intermittent rocks made it hard to run. I could not get momentum due to this.

About the time the course opened up again, another runner had caught up to me. This was the first time I really engaged in much conversation with anyone during the race. As continued to the next aid station we went back and forth on how it’s going so far, favorite (and least favorite) parts of the course, goals for the race, and what other ultras we’ve each done.

I have to admit, I forgot how tired I was starting to feel while talking to him. The miles did seem to go by fast as we were at about the same pace. It wasn’t long before we hit the last aid station. I did stop at this one for a little longer, I don’t know why really, I just did. Again I made sure I fueled up both nutrition and hydration and me and the other runner left at the same time.

We covered the miles back to the end of the 50K loop actually. The end miles were diverse and enjoyable. Some open spots, some more single track and an eventual long slow descent to the park and end of the 50K loop. There was a road section in there that was mostly uphill and felt like it went on forever but a cool waterfall at another dam did make it worth it.

Waterfall at Saylorsville Dam

During the long gradual descent was a surprise highlight of the race. Me and the other runner were still talking when all of the sudden from the right side of the doubletrack trail darts out a bear! He sprinted down the trail and ducked in the weeds/woods again to the left of the trail. We had both stopped in our tracks. When we looked to make sure that was the only bear and no cubs around or anything we continued as I banged my trekking poles together to make noise. I guess the bear was a juvenile, it wasn’t full grown but not a cub either. The experience actually didn’t scare me at all—I kind of thought it was a cool experience.

Getting to and crossing the start/finish at the 50K occurred just under 6 and a half hours. I did some stretching at the aid station to ease my aching muscles while again eating and drinking. I was starting to think that maybe this could be a really good day. I was right about where I thought I should be time-wise for 50K. My muscles, especially my quads and hip flexors were aching already though. I knew though that by just slowing down a playing things smart the second half I could turn in a good time. While I knew I couldn’t hit the 13 hour pace I was at currently, with smart race management on my part I could still turn in a very respectful finish time.

Going out for the second half of race was more solo racing for sure right from the start of it. I somewhat jockeyed with a few runners through the second loop catching up to them near an aid station only to see them leave just as I was stopping at it and vice versa. Overall just more solo running though.

The big difference for the early course miles now doing it the second time, was at least I could see what was up ahead in those early miles since it was all in the dark the first go around. It’s funny, the same course had a different feel the second time. Sections that seemed to go by quick on the first half seemed to drag out on the second loop. The hills seemed steeper too. My quads were screaming back at me on the steeper inclines.

I also spent more time at each aid station, but not excessively. I made sure to eat since my stomach was allowing me too (I didn’t have much of an appetite during my first 100K) and also drink too. It was wasn’t excessively hot but it felt like it. I guess it was mostly humidity. The temperature was about 58 degrees at the start and rose to the mid-high 60s I guess from what was forecasted. Coke and Gatorade were the go to choice for aid station drinks with the Coke tasting especially good to me for whatever reason. I made sure my water bottle was always filled at each station and that got me through things out on the course. Grilled Cheese sandwiches cut into quarters and bacon were definitely the go food choices. Each tasted so good! One aid station did have some chicken and that tasted very good too! I did eat some candy and cookies but for the most part stayed away from the sweets this race—they just didn’t appeal to me. I also had just a few chips, pretzels, and half a banana, but none of those really appealed to me.

I got to mile 43 in about 9 hours. The cutoff was 10 hours 50 minutes. I was in good shape hitting that cutoff which was the start/finish after the 13 mile section of the second loop. I got some energy from the spectators watching us racers. After doing some mild stretching before heading out to do the last 18 mile section, I felt infused from the cheers. I would try and soak in as much of that as I could because I knew more solitude lie ahead. I just kept ticking off mile after mile, trying mentally not to get too far ahead of myself and think about the miles and fatigue and intermittent boredom that lie ahead. With no one around to talk to your mind can wander easily and think about things too much. Like what aches, what hurts, how this section is the same as 10 minutes ago and the same as 10 minutes from now. I had to remind myself just run the mile you’re in right now and keep putting one foot in front of the other. More walking was involved this second half of the race. I knew that though and was expecting it. All it was was just managing it the best I could, which I did.

I finally got the boulder field again and felt energized from this, my favorite section of the course. I scrambled through there, but again did take just a little time to soak in this naturally occurring phenomenon. Within about 10 minutes of leaving the boulder field the rain that was forecasted started to fall. I was sure glad I was past the boulder field because I feel it would have been much harder when the rocks are wet. The rain came down fairly steady for awhile and I definitely started to get wet. I grabbed my hat from my race pack and put on to keep the rain somewhat off my head and from running down onto my face. This really helped. The rain did slow to a more tolerable level. I was thinking how the exact same thing had happened in my first 100K. Just after reaching the 50 mile mark it started to rain. This was much easier though as with the first rain it was a thunderstorm with pouring, driving rain that persisted much longer.

My GPS watch also ran out of battery life about this time. I took time to swap out and put on my old standard Casio wristwatch on since I knew the battery would eventually die. At least with this watch I knew what time of day it was and with a little math could figure out my race time.

It seemed like forever to reach that last aid station but finally I got there! I fueled up on the grilled cheese, bacon and Coke again for the stretch run. All of it tasted so good in the cooling rain! I stopped briefly to introduce myself to another runner that was in charge of that aid station who I connected with on Instagram weeks priors after commenting on the same race we both ran. Two other runners came into the aid station while I was still there, one being the guy I ran with on the first half of the course for many miles.

After I thanked the aid station volunteers, me and the other runner both left at the same time. We started talking and kept the same pace and it made the stretch run more fun as I forget how tired I was. Eventually he dropped back during the technical single track section and I kept pulling forward. With maybe 3 miles to go I was by myself and knew the finish was getting close. I came out to the final road section and kept pushing uphill. Back on the trail I passed two 50K participants hiking and kept pushing fairly hard up the slight incline. The trail crested and upon it declining, I knew the final push was on! Down the trail to where the bear ran out the first loop and then a right turn to the dirt road lead me to speed up some. I saw on my watch that it was just past 6:30 PM, meaning the 13.5 hour mark. I was so surprised I would finishing this quick. After a few turns on park roads the home stretch was in sight and I could see the (albeit few) people still remaining to cheer at the finish line. I completed my second 100K with a  really strong finish!

A lady almost immediately handed me a finishers award and the announcer, also checking his electronic device for the race, asked me my age group. He checked his device and told me to hold on—then he told me I was 3rd place in my age group and handed me a trophy! Despite it being a small race I was very shocked and needless to say very surprised!

My official finish time was 13:34:40. I was 14th out of 24 finishers.

Post race I did some mild stretching to try and stay loose while talking to a 50K runner waiting for his girlfriend to finish her 50K. This was his first ultra and he stated he is quickly finding out how supportive the trail and ultra community is.

Quite frankly, that is what I love about it too. So many other runners I the events I’ve been doing have been supportive and positive. There is something about this and the atmosphere of the race that I just don’t see on the same level as a road race or shorter distances like 5K’s and 10K’s. Perhaps to some degree this support and positivity is what is drawing me into the sport.

Overall, I had a good time at this race. Hickory Run State Park is one of the places I wanted to check off my list of places in Pennsylvania to visit. I also had a great finish time that was about as good as I could have expected to run. Also positive, while I was sore, my body didn’t feel as bad after this race as my first 100K, likely due to being easier.

Contemplation

This past weekend I competed in the Boulder Field 100K, an ultramarathon held at Hickory Run State Park in Carbon County, Pennsylvania. The race was my “B” race for the year, with another 100K, World’s End 100K, having been my “A” race earlier this year. Both were challenging.

Running both of these races were a step up for me in my ultra running. My longest event prior was a 12 hour race that I’ve done 3 times, reaching distances of 50-55 miles in each of those.

The step up to 100K distance served a greater purpose. While a lofty goal in itself, the 100K was let me see where I stand in relationship to my ultimate running goal, and whether I think I have it within me to truly pursue that that ultimate goal. The ultimate goal, something that has intrigued me ever since the day I learn about them… is a 100 miler.

I remember first hearing of a 100 miler, something I had no idea existed, and while sounding so incredibly insane and intimidating, for whatever reason stuck with me and sounded so wild and I could only imagine what it would take to do one. At this time I had been built up to half marathon distance or so and only begun to head off road and start explore this new (to me) world of trail running. I liked the feeling of being out in the woods and nature and how trails were constantly up and down and weaving around. It was so different from the same footfalls of road running.

I researched these 100 milers and learned there were many, and that they were incredibly difficult. But somehow the fascination of what it would be like to say you attempted (or hopefully completed one) stuck with me. The intriguing aspect of this type of event never went away. It was like a spark was lit inside of me. I knew next to nothing about these 100’s, and by all means was nowhere near ready to even think about trying something half that long, but the thought of “well, maybe some day” was in me.

I did get my running built up and meet my goal of running a marathon… 3 in fact in total. I still wasn’t ready for the ultra thing though. The long distance running was still new to me and while I could handle it, pushing even farther was not in me yet as I didn’t feel I could tolerate the increased training load.

A change of careers and going back to school derailed my running for a period of 2 years or so. During this time I just kept a base really, with anything over five miles almost seeming like a bonus of some sorts. Keeping my base was my only goal while returning to school. This way I wouldn’t have to start from zero since the same goal, even now more distant in achieving, was still in my head.

Upon graduating, a few months later I did a trail 25K. I considered that my re-entry and start point for building things back up. It went well and I loved it. The following year I got brave enough to try my first ultra, and doing 2 overall just 3 weeks apart that first year. The following year, I did 4 ultras, and then 3 more the next year. I had sort of stagnated I guess, doing ultra but not increasing distance too terribly much.

That’s where this year comes into play. I decided I needed to test myself and start to really push myself. I had my eye on a few 100K’s and decided I needed to do these or I’ll never advance toward that ultimate goal.

With successful completion of two 100K’s, which you can read about at this link (World’s End 100K) and at this link (Boulder Field 100K), my confidence has grown. I am now pondering if it’s time to pursue the ultimate goal. There are several reasons why.

Had I failed at those races, then I’d know I wasn’t ready. Granted neither were easy and both were challenging, but being I did complete them, then I feel I have some legitimate times were I felt the challenge of what I could face in a 100 miler. I also now with both the 100K’s know the experience of having to drive a good distance to the race and camp the night—essentially being out of one’s comfort zone. With the 100K’s I also gained experience with running in the dark since both started at 5 AM and I finished my first 100K in the dark too. That is something I definitely will need practice with.

Being that I’m in my mid 40’s, I know I’m not getting any younger. Each year older I get it will be just a bit tougher to push myself to my max.

I feel kinda at a crossroads now though. I know there’s several reasons why I should probably go after the goal, but several that still cast doubt. Each of the 100K were tough! When you tire to this degree, I find it daunting to go for another 40 miles and, depending on difficulty, be out there another on the trails another 10-20 hours.

I know probably every ultra runner debates this in a pursuit of 100 miles. I guess I’m just bugged by the fact I don’t know if I’m ready. I like to know if I’m ready or not, and right now I’m unsure.

In conclusion, I know I have to weigh many items and do some soul searching. We’ll see. The other point sticking with me is I’ll likely have regret if I never at least attempt a 100 miler, and I think that is what weighs on me the most.

If anyone reading this has any advice, feel free to share. Thanks as always for reading!

2019 Worlds End 100K Race Report

It has been too long since I’ve written a post here on my blog, so I figured a race report on my first ever 100K was as good of topic as any to get back at it. This past weekend I participated (and finished!) in Worlds End 100K ultramarathon (WEU) at Worlds End State Park and the surrounding Loyalsock State Forest in Sullivan County, Pennsylvania.

The race website describes it as one of the premier ultras on the east coast. I haven’t run any races or ultras outside of PA so I can’t attest to that statement, but I would say it is difficult and going into the race I was feeling nervous about my ability to finish the race within the 19 hour cutoff.

I felt more nervous the day before the race, but luckily come race morning when I woke up nerves were minimal and I felt ready to tackle it as I had my pack set to go and even slept in the clothes I was going to wear to run to avoid one other task to have to tackle race morning.

Now I am not a newbie when it comes to ultras. This was my 11th ultra, three of which were 12 hour events (all Labor Pain 12 hour in Reading, PA) and I had covered distances of 50, 50, and 55 miles respectively in those events. While WEU would be another 8.8 miles further, it was not the distance aspect of the race that concerned me. It was elevation profile that lead to doubts I had. WEU has ~24,790 ft of net elevation change whereas the 55 miles I did at Labor Pain was only ~13,000 ft. That’s a big difference and being my quads and hip flexors got very fatigued on prolonged climbs at a 50K tuneup race 6 wks prior to WEU, I was worried about the same on the hills for this race.

This got me to thinking though and I laid out a couple "rules” for myself and got them in my head the week or so leading up to the race. What I did was look at the race as just getting from aid station to aid station. While I knew to carry fluids and nutrition with me for in between aid stations, it was just breaking the race down to a series of small ones that made it so much simpler. Can I run 4.3 miles? Yep! Now how about 6.0… and 5.6… and 3.4? Yep. Yep. And yep again. It seemed like a good plan going in and it worked race day. Breaking down race into segments was just easier for my mind.

Photo of the Start/Finish area taken the day prior to the race.

I started out at the start line somewhere in the second half of it. I did speed up some on the road section at the beginning but didn’t want to get too caught up in things. About a half mile into it, the course turns to the trail and uphill right of way. I slowed down to a fast(er) hike like everyone else and up we went. There were two really rocky and technical sections early where you were essentially standing and waiting until those ahead got moving. I just took it in stride, letting my heart rate lower. Overall there was a lot of climbing to get to that first aid station at mile 4.3.

I always let the terrain dictate my pace (another rule I had) and I feel I managed this well too. If it was an uphill then I slowed so as not to push myself too much (especially early in the race) and I would use downhills to my advantage when I could. I say this for two reasons. Some downhills were very steep or technical and then late in the race my quads were feeling fatigued and I had a more difficult time tackling downhill running.

There wasn’t big sections of fairly flat running but one of them did come between aid stations 1 & 2. This was a nice break from the long uphill to aid station 1. The problem however was how wet it was! This was any overwhelming theme throughout the entire race—mud, muck, standing water. Some spots I felt like I was traversing a bog or marsh. Many spots were ankle deep at least. It dried out some approaching aid station 2 and it was fun hearing the noise and cheers ahead as I approached the aid station. It was much more action and bustling than aid station one. Things went smooth and going out of it there was a dirt road section that eventually lead to going over a neat old one lane bridge and from there runners turned right and ran a trial along the Loyalsock Creek. Personally I really enjoyed this section. It wasn’t overly technical but did go up and down to break any monotony.

The iron bridge after aid station 2 (crossing over Loyalsock Creek)

After crossing the road running parallel to the creek, it was uphill to aid station 3. I started to feel fatigue in my legs during this long climb. I actually felt a little just after crossing that bridge. I slowed at tried to do an assessment of how I was feeling because I was only 3+ hrs and less than 15 miles into this race. I had a lot more to go!

I got to aid station 3 okay and felt better. I made sure to drink at every aid station as well as fill up my main bottle while grabbing something to eat and headed out. My philosophy for aid stations at this event was as follows: get what need, maybe take just a little minute break or so to stretch, but then get going. I didn’t want to linger and lose time. As long as I got my hydration and nutrition, I was good. I carried some of own food with me so I felt confident even if I didn’t grab too much.

Two of my other rules by the way were “drink before you’re thirsty” and “eat before you’re hungry”—in that order!

One aid station worker said while leaving “it’s downhill now to the next aid station.” It wasn’t. There was still a fair amount of uphill to go. Their form of amusement I guess. It was too bad though and eventually it was all downhill and sections I was familiar with from prior times hiking in that area. Runners made there way back to the river and came out at the Park Office and we crossed the road to aid station 4. A fair amount of people were there cheering—and this definitely helps!

I grabbed a ham and cheese wrap and boy did that hit the spot! That was the best aid station food I’d found yet! I ate a little bit of other stuff while getting my bottle filled as usually and knew what was ahead—uphill!

The course got steep quickly at this point and lead up to a vista that looks back down on the creek and beach. What was most interesting on this section was seeing the downed trees from a tornado in April. Lots of destruction took place and quick minor re-route due to damage. It was just mostly unrelenting uphill—a few downhill sections with niceties like water cascading over rocks—that made up this short segment to aid station 5 at the beautiful Canyon Vista!

Canyon Vista! So beautiful!

Canyon Vista is one of nicest spots on the course in my opinion. I just like the lookout—seeing the hills gentle grade to the valley, some from the left and some from the right. I ate only a little at this aid station. I did get patched up a some as I had slipped at one spot and had two superficial scrapes on right leg and when I asked an aid station worker about having something to clean it off she had me sit down and helped to clean and bandage it.

I rolled out of there and headed for more. To be honest I don’t remember much about the section between aid station 5 and 6. I recall it being mostly flat with minimal ups and downs and that weaved around quite a bit but nothing really stands out. What I was focused on is still taking things easy and remembering to properly refuel at the next aid station. This would be important because from aid station 6 to 7 was the longest stretch between aid stations—8.1 miles. I knew, especially if it was hot, I’d being drinking a lot and there was climbing involved in that section too so I figured I’d take at least 2 hrs for that section.

Aid station 6 was rockin’! Ahead of it were 3 guys yelling and using a safety cone as amplifier that you hear probably 10 minutes before even reaching them! It had a festive atmosphere for being out in the middle of nowhere. I drank a little more than usual because of the aforementioned long stretch ahead ate some food. I had freezy pop which tasted sooo cold and delicious! That really hit the spot as by now the temperature was starting to rise and it was getting hot!

The section between aid station 6 & 7 did take a long time. There was climbing and descending involved and more mud and muck. The temps didn’t ease either. It was getting hot. Quite a bit of hiking took place in this section. In reality the whole course involved a lot of hiking but by now for sure.

Upon getting to the top of High Knob us runners were now past half way and coming up on the first aid station with a cutoff. Cutoff time was 5:00. I hit that aid station just minutes past 3:00. I felt good knowing I was hitting this early. In studying the aid station planner document on the race website I saying that if you just hit the cutoffs you will have to speed up the rest of way and each time it only got harder as the pace decreased each time. I used the bathroom at this aid station for the first time did some true stretching to try and loosen up the muscles a bit as I was now out here for 10 hrs with many more to go. I left the aid station at 3:14.

View from aid station 7 (High Knob) the day after the race

I was warned by another runner that the section coming up had a long down hill and then one of most brutal climbs. She was right! I had to take the downhill cautiously as my quads were starting to feel it. The downhill wasn’t technical or steep but just enough to let you know it took muscle control to avoid go too fast. After reaching the bottom was stream crossing and this felt very good on the legs, cooling them down. It was one the widest stream crossings (maybe 40ft???) and no stone to tip toe across—just trudge through it. Like I said it felt good.

Now for the climb! Yes it was steep and long and unrelenting. Then toward the top it was more of the mud and muck again—all while trying to now go uphill in it. Traction was poor and it made you feel like you would loose most of your power. Luckily I had my trekking poles along for the race and it really helped for this climb as I passed a few other runners on the climb which made me feel good. I reached the summit and then there was a downhill to aid station 8 with another stream crossing directly before the aid station. I made it through without slipping—it was deeper and on an angle—and as soon as I did the people gathered there started cheering for me. It was much appreciated and a boost.

I didn’t really see much I liked at this aid station but I did eat half a grilled cheese sandwich and maybe something else but I didn’t spend much time here and moved on. The next aid station (#9) was water only that was 4 miles away and then the next true aid station (#10) another 4 miles after that. I just chugged along, hitting the climb out of there and moving on down the line. This was another section I don’t remember much about. I passed a guy soon after aid station 8 and then saw no one for miles until coming up on a couple. I was glad to see someone again. It does feel lonely at times if no one is around you out in these long races. I caught up to them at the water stop but they left before me as I ate some of my own food. After going through more mud, etc I eventually caught up to them and they let me pass them as the female told me I looked faster than them. In reality I did like passing them as the next aid station had another cutoff and I wanted to get to it as quickly as I could since it was a gentle downhill to it. The cutoff was 9:00 and I wanted to hit it by 7:30 to give me extra time for finishing the rest. That aid station would be mile 50 and I know it would not get any easier so the earlier I could hit it the better.

Things were starting to go downhill though—and I mean more than just the terrain. Gone was sun and I could hear thunder in the distance. I also had a stomach that was starting to feel not so good—something that I’m not used to and isn’t normal.

I hit the aid station when I wanted to. Coming up on it I saw a porta-john and that was my first stop after checking in. Having taken care of things I felt mildly better. I’m not sure what happen really—perhaps I was not eating enough. It didn’t help when I saw minimal at this stop too that I liked. I had some watermelon (something I ate at many of the aid stations) and filled up my water bottle.

I didn’t screw around much because the thunder was more frequent. I left this aid station feeling defeated. Although ahead of cutoff I didn’t feel good, a climb was ahead, and the sky didn’t look good. For the first time in the race I felt like I wasn’t going to finish. I felt like I could cry really. 50 miles of good racing just to see things slip away. Things were going to get tough now until the next true aid station. The next actual aid station was water only and 8 miles to the true aid station. Darkness would also set in, slowing things down as one can no longer see as well for each step you’d take.

Heading out a guy told me “You got this.” My reply was “I sure as hell hope so!” He responded with another, “Come on, you got this! I finished my piece of banana and set out not knowing what lies in store.

Things did turn worse—and it didn’t take long. Upon the climb up from there it started to rain. I stopped to get my headlamp out of my pack (something I should have done at the aid station) because it was getting dark quickly. It didn’t take long before the rain turned to a heavy rain. It was narrow section of trail and it was difficult to see with the rain coming down. It was mostly a game of staying in the middle of trail. Upon getting to the top there was some mild confusion. There was a flag at the corner of a fenced in area and that was it. I didn’t know which way to go. I turned right to follow the fence only to quickly see a headlamp coming my way. That runner said no that’s not the way. We backtracked and together saw another flag on a gate at the fence. We both were puzzled but as soon as he opened the gate I saw a flag inside. Seemed very weird but we went inside and soon saw another flag assuring us we were indeed on course. By now it was a complete downpour. There was more slop to run through and this were just downright nasty. Every square inch of me was soaked. What concerned me the most was how cold the rain was—I was concerned I might even get hypothermic if for some reason I had to slow too much. Soon there was a loud crack of thunder. We were both running fast through here as it was an open area with no cover. We made it to the far gate and kept going after getting through it, and soon came up on some other runners.

That runner sped up and I settled in with the new runners as I was slipping a lot and could speed up safely. The rain was still heavy but not quite as bad. It was nothing but weaving and winding and a slick mess. A lot became a blur at this point. Again I had doubts I would make it. I knew an uphill section was coming and my pace would slow. How tired would I be? Would I get cold? Honestly it was an emotional roller coaster. This weather (the storm) was making already bad course conditions even worse.

There was nothing else to do though than plow on. The rain was starting to slow and I never did get cold for any extended period so mentally I felt better—just a little anyway. I just kept on going, know I had to get to that final aid station 12 ahead of schedule to have any chance of finishing.

I was at the back of a group of runners and just trying to keep them in sight, which I did. Then came yet another stream crossing. While only 10-12 ft wide it was moving rapidly and almost knee deep. I took this cautiously while hoping the others didn’t gain much on me. I definitely didn’t want to slip crossing this stream. I made it across with success! Upon catching up to the others it was only 2 of them. In awhile the guy in front of me said something and I asked him to repeat it. He said this was the last long climb. This was music to my ears. I felt if my legs can just hold out for this then maybe there's a chance I can get to the finish. At one point on the climb the lead guy stopped and the other waved me on saying I looked stronger. The lead guy was another 100K rookie like me but the other guy had done it before. I guess he was sticking with him. I went on and actually gained ground on them.

Luckily the rain total stopped by this time. Another good sign I thought to myself. One less thing to deal with. It was not easy though. It was just more slop and mess to trudge through. I didn’t even care at that point. Everyone had a hard time seeing where they're stepping as it was truly dark now and your feet were already wet. The climbing hadn’t stopped either but it did greatly even out. I eventually was catching up to 2 other runners, a husband and wife, right around the water only aid stop. I didn’t even stop. A guy sitting in a truck was jotting down racers numbers. I yelled out “77” and just kept moving.

Right at a road section I caught up to the other 2 runners for good. I asked if they minded if I stuck with them and they didn’t care. They were very friendly and we navigated the short flatter section together to aid station 12, again wet and sloppy. Upon come to the end of that trail we saw strings of light—the final aid station! A few other runners were catching up to us too. Almost at the end of the trail we heard clapping and cheering. They likely saw our headlamps the wife said.

It was already 10:15, only a half hour before final cutoff! This was going to be tough! As in really speed up tough. No major climbs anymore but still some ups and downs. I grabbed my final piece of watermelon for the race and while eating it a volunteer asked me what I needed. I told him nothing. “How about water?” he asked. I told him have enough water and that I didn’t need anything more.

He said “I’d get leaving in the next 3-4 minutes if you want to finish this.” I didn’t plan on staying long anyway but something about that statement ignited me. I told him “Just show me where to go!” I got turned around at the aid station and was sure which direction to go. He quickly pointed me in the right direction along the cars and turn left to get back on the trail.

I took off. This was it. Now or never. Do or die (so to speak.) I was going to have to speed up and work hard to get to the finish before the cutoff but I had a lot of determination in me at this point. I might have been out there for over 17 hrs but no way was I going to give up. This section wasn’t too bad at first. The course was on a dirt road then for awhile and made for picking up the pace easier. It then headed back in the woods and the course became tougher again, more technical with it seeming like the reflective flagging becoming farther away and wondering am I on course. The technical section didn’t last long but it didn’t get any easier. The course followed something resembling a fire road I guess (unpaved obviously) and that was a mess. My poles definitely came in handy helping propelling me forward as with every step your foot slid and slipped and lost traction. My legs were tiring fast with every slip. And it seemed to just go on and on. I didn’t study this section of course map much and in my head I kept thinking the course map was different. I felt disoriented and unsure of how far I had to go yet. I thought I was moving fast but my watch was just ticking away..11:00… 11:10… 11:20.

Now doubt crept in again. Here I was 40 minutes before final cutoff and I didn’t know how far I had to go yet. My GPS watch died at the 12 hr mark and I was now just relying on a digital watch and math in my head. I figured if I could average ~16 minute miles for the 5.9 miles to the finish from that aid station 12 I’d have just a few minutes extra which I would need for the technical descent right at the end. At this time I came up on 2 more runners with one more coming up on me too. The two ahead of me were looking to see where the next turn was, which I had no idea. All I know is we weren’t to it yet.

Within minutes a great sound came out of nowhere! I could hear the Creek! Loyalsock Creek that runs by the Start/Finish area! Almost immediately, we came up where the trail bears left to descend. I looked at my watch—11:34. 26 minutes to make the descent and the a quick run through the park area to the finish! I had little doubt the descent would take that long and I felt like finishing was within grasp.

Again it wasn’t easy though. I slipped once making a turn on just a mild descent and went to my knees. That was a wakeup call not to get out of control for the steep part of the descent. I took the rest of the descent cautiously, twice letting to other runners pass. I didn’t want slip and get hurt just a half mile or less from the finish. I made it through the tough part, legs holding out and got down to where it flattens out. I saw I had about 12 minutes left and it felt great. One minor descent then under the bridge and through the parking lot. Finally I could see the string of lights on the ground they had laid out and all the lights at the finish line. I just kept running strong right up to the finish line and I did it!

A quick glance at the clock and I saw 18:51 something. I didn’t care what the seconds were—I just finished a 100K!!! Of course everyone was cheering. A few others finished before the cutoff and I cheered them on, knowing just minutes before how good it felt!

It felt so awesome to finish it! It felt like a battle. A battle with the elements. The mud, the muck, the slop, the heat, the rain, the hills, the dark. I probably looked like a mess and was very tired but I indeed did finish this beast called Worlds End 100K!

Belt buckle finisher medal

My official finish time was 18:51:34. I know that isn’t impressive, but I will definitely take it! I was 92nd out of 97 finishers, next to last male finisher, and last in my age group.

You know what though? As tough as it was I loved it. I had doubts I could pull this off, but with determination, I was successful. I managed things as well I could and ran my own race. I did the best I could on that day and that all anyone can ask for.

I really owe a lot to my trekking poles with this event/course. I know for a fact I would not have finished had I not used them the entire race. They helped me tremendously with climbing, aided in balance many, many times and eased downhills late in the race. Most of all they really helped me power through that last stretch to the finish were I was using them on all grades as I was in such a hurry to try reach the finish before the clock ran out.

Here's what the shoes looked like post race.

Overall, while I got tired, I was surprised that at no time did it seem overwhelming. That saying a lot considering I was out there for 8 hrs more than what I ever have been before in a race.

So I guess the ultimate question is: would I do this again? I can say without a doubt—YES!!! While exceptionally challenging, I really did have fun do this race. Many of my ultras so far have been a multiple loop course, so I think a race like this with a single loop—and such beautiful scenery throughout—made for an experience where there was no monotony.

I also like pushing myself to see just how far I can go and what I capable of. I have another 100K in mind... I have a feeling it just a matter of time before I sign up!

“It’s not about how you feel, it’s how you feel about how you feel.”

“It’s not about how you feel, it’s how you feel about how you feel.”

I heard this saying in a podcast I was listening to within the past year, and I can honestly say that it really intrigued me from the first time I heard it. I scrolled back and listened to it several times actually. It stuck in my head, very much so in fact.

The saying was in reference to endurance sports but in thinking about the meaning I realized it applies so much so in life as well.

On the surface it sounds confusing, but in reality upon analyzing it, it makes all the sense in the world. The premise is simply you choose your own destiny.

In endurance sports you will most likely get to a point where things are not only physical, but also mental. Fatigue, GI distress, aching muscles, a sore this or that—surely if you’ve run long distances you’ve encountered one, if not several, of these items. These items are how you feel—the first part of the saying. If you want to push onward though, how do you respond to these issues? Do you ignore the issue, do you adapt and change something to address things, or do you simply give up? That is the second part of the saying—how do you FEEL (respond) about how you feel (what you are experiencing?)

Now does the saying make sense?

Endurance running is definitely about the physical, whether it’s 26.2 miles, 50K, 50 miles, 100K or 100 miles, there’s no doubting you have to be in good physical shape to cover such long distances.

It is those aforementioned issues though… or more specifically how you respond to them that largely impacts how successful you are and whether you meet your goals.

I have experienced this for sure. As of one week prior to this posting, I competed in my latest ultramarathon, the Labor Pain 12 Hour Endurance Trail Run. It was a very humid day and once the sun came out midday the temperature rose too. The course was a muddy mess at two spots that required running through 2-4 inches of wet slop. Granted it could have been a lot worse than this but it made the day more difficult.

My main goal was to complete more miles than I ever had before. My previous best was 50 miles the past two years, so this year would have required doing 55 miles, as the course is a 5 mile loop course. I really was shooting for 60 miles—and in a perfect world 62 miles to hit 100K, but 55 miles was my first goal.

I was fine the first 25 miles or so despite having gone out too fast on the first lap (and after reviewing splits my second lap too) but I slowly was not feeling as good as the early miles. It was not so much sore muscles or tightness or anything like that, but instead mental boredom. I began to feel like the second twenty miles was much more monotonous than the first twenty. My mind started to wander, all that came to me was how many more times I have to run through that slop, slog up the ensuing hill, and weave through the meandering turns after the aid station. It felt like a chore. Like boredom. Somewhat of a punishment almost.

The thoughts were turning negative. Fatigue starting compounding the thoughts. Then add in that dose of heat and humidity with some scorching sun. I wanted to quit basically.

But there was still a part of me that remembered—you came here to do this. You wanted to push yourself and see if you could run past 50 miles. You wanted to use this distance event as a primer of sorts to see if you wanted to tackle even longer races.

My watch showed me that I had plenty of time. I was ticking off 5 mile loops in just around one hour every loop. Despite conditions, you were executing your game plan and achieving things so far.

This is where the mental aspect comes in. I could have chose to quit or slow down since it was hot and I was tired but I chose to press onward. And that’s again what I mean by “it’s how you feel about how you feel.” It really is how do you respond to what you are experiencing! Are you comfortable with being uncomfortable? Or does be uncomfortable make you feel uneasy and unsure of yourself?

You don’t have to be in a race to experience this. I’m sure life has dealt you these cards at least once in life.

Regarding the running, I had trained on hills since I knew I’d be facing a prolonged incline every hour or so depending how fast I ran. I had even specifically ran in the heat of the day to get used to running when it was really hot and knowing how I would respond and learning how much and how often to drink.

To quit early in the race when I was feeling down would have meant that training was a waste. I didn’t want to do that. I knew I could pull through it. I knew the discomfort was temporary, but the accomplishment would be permanent!

I pressed onward and made it to 55 miles. I met my goal of setting a new distance record despite some adverse conditions. While it was definitely challenging I’m glad I was able to see my goal I had in mind and fight through the fatigue and boredom.

What I didn’t fight through was the risk of injury. I had my left hip adductor muscles sporadically cramp on me during the 10th and 11th laps and I did bow out before the clock ran out on me. The race official said I still was able to go out for another lap if I wanted to. I had thought about this during the 11th lap but I didn’t feel like the risk of  continued cramping and possible injury was a smart move. I called it quits at 55 miles. I have another ultramarathon coming up I want to do and did not want to risk not being able to do it at all just to get in 5 more miles at this race. It was a tough decision but I feel for the long term it was the right one.

I hope that if you desire to push your limits you start practicing a positive mindset. Realize what you are feeling and use past experience to learn how to get through a tough time. Learn to train your mental game. Endurance running is not just physical! Remember, It’s not about how you feel, it’s how you FEEL about how you feel!

The First 10,000 Miles

What does 10,000 miles mean to you? It’s all in what perspective you’re talking about, right? 10,000 miles of flying in an airplane isn’t that far. 10,000 miles of driving in a car is basically one year, and in terms of the car it is just breaking it in.

But 10,000 miles on foot is a little different, and I recently achieved this distance in running regarding lifetime miles. When I started out running 12 years ago, I never really had any goals in mind other than to just be more healthy. I never thought it would lead me to races and reading and listening to podcasts on the subject. I never thought it would lead me to double digits in distance and then marathon distance and eventually ultramarathons too. I never dreamed I would learn so much about myself through running and become a different person

10,000 miles has taken me to new levels of exploration—to new races, parks, and towns; to new trails, roads, and paths I never knew existed; and mostly—to new exploration of myself.

I have learned so much about myself through running. I’ve experienced thoughts, feelings, and emotions I never knew existed within me. And I have grown from experiencing all of these.

I’ve learned that I have more abilities in me than what I thought I had prior to running. I’ve learned that I have more of a love of nature and the outdoors than I realized. Because of that love of nature I’ve learned I have a growing interest in photography as well.

I’ve learned that I can get through tough situations in life by breaking them down and relating them to running. Here is one prime example of that.

Upon deciding to go back to college to learn a new career, in many aspects, it was putting things in a running perspective that got through the tough times of only working part time (and having bills and owning a house) while also being a full time student. I had already run a marathon at that point, three actually, and viewed schooling as a marathon. Starting out by taking my general education classes at a community college to start earning my credits was like the first 10 miles or so of a marathon. Easing into things and getting a feel for how this will all go. The core classes for the PTA (Physical Therapist Assistant) program I was enrolled in was the meat and potatoes, so to speak, of miles 10–20. Then after all of the classes there was clinicals. I viewed this as miles 20–25 of the marathon—that’s where you really have to put everything together and apply what you learned previously to get you through and believe you actually have what it takes. Finally studying for the State Board Exam to earn my practicing license was like the last 1.2 miles where you’re still not at the finish line yet and you just have to gut it out until you have actually finished and you get to say you did it!

I love the way running can make me feel. That is especially true when it comes to trail running. That aforementioned love of outdoors is evident with trail running. I never know what is up around the bend in the trail—perhaps a lookout, the sunlight shimmering across a lake, the beautiful butterfly, patch of flowers, or some woodland dwelling critter. When I’m out running on the trails I seem to forget about every thing else. My worries and cares and fears seem to go away. It is calming, peaceful, and meditative all at once. In large part, it has become my escape. I don’t feel invincible in the real world but out on the trails everything just seems to flow and I feel like most anything is possible.

I guess most of all I just like the enjoyment I get from everything running related. I like the challenge of creating a training plan to run an ultra. I enjoy reading on what others are doing and how it inspires me to push myself. I like hearing from time to time that I have inspired someone else. That is something I never ever thought would come from running. Not in wildest dreams did I imagine someone else would look at what I’m doing or did in the past and tell me they wish they could do the same or find it within themselves just to attempt it. In part, that fuels me for the days I don’t feel like running—because yes I do have those days. Eventually I miss it or know it’s time to head out and explore and progress.

The journey has been interesting in those 10,000 miles. Going from mostly a complete novice to a seasoned runner I’ve learned how to make gains in running by how to train, how to dress, how to eat, how to drink, how to have the right mindset—and how to put them all together to become a better runner.

Upon starting to run I never knew I eventually start doing races. It was in fact finishing the very first 5K I ever did that truly made me start thinking of myself as a runner. I had put a lot into training for that once difficult distance and laid the groundwork for being a consistent runner. After finishing the race and driving home, I asked myself “now what?” I liked the race. I liked the challenge of working to achieve it. I like how I felt during and after the race. After eating lunch I went to the computer and start looking for another race. I haven’t really looked back since that first race. Something has been inside of ever since that day. I hope it never leaves.

One thing through the years I’ve also learned is do what works for you. Become a runner, and every other runners seems to tell you to try this or that for virtually everything. But you have to find what works best for you.

I have run all 10,000 miles without ever having earbuds in my ear or headphones on my head. Listening to music/audiobooks/podcasts while running just isn’t my thing. I don’t consider it safe to do that when running on the roads and when I’m on the trails I prefer the songs of birds or water over the rocks in the stream.

I have run all 10,000 miles outside. I’ve never had a gym membership and just haven’t looked into getting a treadmill—even though one would be nice in some of the cold Pennsylvania winters. I don’t know how many others can say they’ve run every single mile outdoors but I consider myself slightly lucky as I have gone over 9 years without ever missing a calendar week of running, so Mother Nature must be on my side.

I also know that I will continue to learn. I don’t feel you ever know it all with running. I still feel like I don’t do well with hydration and that in particular is one area I want to improve and learn more.

Moving forward, I don’t know where the next 10,000 miles will lead—or if there will even be another 10,000 miles. I sure hope so and can’t right now imagine life without at least some degree of running, but perhaps other interests, experiences, and opportunities will present themselves and just like I didn’t set out to become a runner I will learn to grow with those opportunities as I did with running. Perhaps eventually my body will start to give out on me and running frequency will slow. Again, I hope doesn’t but we never know what lies in store for us.

Much of what I’ve accomplished in running so far I never knew was in store for me. But it has been for the positive. I just hope to progress. My ultimate goal, though I know will challenge me in all aspects of not just my running but also in overall general sense of me, is to complete a 100 mile race someday. I hope to write that in my words about the first 20,000 miles. Wish me luck!… and good luck to you! Now get out there and explore!