A collection of race reports and other writings of and about ultrarunning, trail running, and other running related topics with a strong focus on the East Coast. The "Beast Coast" has a strong trail running community and some amazing events; this blog aims to showcase some of that.
Shortly after finishing the Hyner View Trail Challenge 50k last year, I made the decision to change up my race selections for 2020. It wasn’t because of how Hyner went or because I don’t want to run Hyner again. I love the Hyner 50k and definitely want to run it again, but the catch for me is that once I’m registered for Hyner I end up following the inevitable path of running the entire PA Triple Crown Series. I figure if I’m doing Hyner, I might as well run Worlds End 100k and Eastern States 100 as well. I decided the best way to avoid getting caught in that trap and change up my race schedule was to not register for Hyner 50k. I have nothing against any of those three races. It’s just that after three consecutive years of my race schedule revolving around the three same “A” races, I felt it was time for a change.
For 2020 I want to make my “A” race a 24 hour timed event. A 24 hour event has been on my to do list for a few years now, but never a high priority, so it never happened (hence one of my favorite quotes below). I hope to change that this year and see what I’m capable of achieving in a 24 hour race. If things go well at whatever 24 hour event I decide to run, I should be able to finally achieve a second running goal that has eluded me for the last two years: to PR my longest distance in a single run. I’m hoping that if I choose a 24 hour event with an easy course I will be able to average at least 12 minute miles or 5 mph for a total of 120 miles at the end of 24 hours. This will easily be my longest distance run as my current longest distance is finishing the Tesla Hertz 100 miler which was actually about 104.8 miles.
An additional goal for this year is to run another “last person standing” event. After running my first two events (Run Ragged) of that type last year and for the most part enjoying them while doing pretty well, I want to run some more of these types of events. Ultimately, I hope to get a chance to run at the original last person standing race, Laz’s Big’s Backyard. I realize it may not happen at all considering the growing popularity of those types of races, but I figure if I run races that build my running resume geared towards last person races it will better my odds to hopefully run at Big’s some day. Running Big’s Backyard definitely isn’t strictly a 2020 goal, but more of a long term goal to work towards year after year until it happens. In my opinion, it’s good to have the late game goals working in the background while having the short term goals mixed in to keep things interesting.
A non race related goal for 2020 is to run all the streets of my hometown, Egg Harbor Township, NJ. This goal was directly inspired by Rickey Gates’ project to run every single street in San Francisco. I started on this goal at the end of October this year with the intention of making it a longer term goal and hopefully completing it before the end of 2020. I’ve posted a couple blog posts specifically about this goal and plan to update with posts throughout the year as I make progress. You can get more details and background about the project from those posts (here and here), but the overall concept is just as the project name suggests, to run every single street of the town.
Another somewhat running related goal I have for this year is one just for fun: to run a Twinkie Weiner Sandwich Mile to celebrate the movie UHF. My plan is to do this the same way as I do the Annual Hot Dog Run every year, just with Twinkie weiner sandwiches in place of the hot dogs. If you’re not familiar with the Annual Hot Dog Run, just think beer mile with beer replaced by hot dogs. If you’re not familiar with UHF, go watch it. I plan to do this run either July 21st to celebrate the UHF release date or June 2nd in honor of Channel 62 (6-2), the focal point of the plot of the movie. If you have an opinion on which date is more appropriate, please vote!
My final running related goal for the year isn’t about any race I want to run or hitting a new running time or distance PR. It is to volunteer at a local race with my son and any of the other members of his scout troop that want to come along to help out. This is an idea/project that I had a while back, but have never acted on. I put it off for some time because I thought that he was a little young and having him and a few of his scouting friends volunteering at an aid station would be more of a hindrance than a help to the runners and the other aid station volunteers. I feel like he’s matured enough in the past few years to be able to handle some of the aid station tasks and at least help out and encourage some runners for a portion of a race if I stay with him to provide some guidance. I hope it happens and goes well as I see this as being a great fit for service projects for scout troops. The scouts get to help others stay fit and enjoy the outdoors responsibly while also contributing to another community (trail runners) that values the outdoors and our shared public natural areas. If you’ve brought kids to volunteer at a race, I’d love to hear about how it went for you and would greatly appreciate any kind of tips and advice you can provide that would have improved the experience.
2020, sure to be another great year as a BibRave Pro!
2020 Goals
Run at least one 24 hour event
PR longest distance in a single run (>104.8 miles)
Complete my "Run Every Street" of Egg Harbor Township project
As we enter the holiday season of 2019 it is prime time to take a look back and assess goals for the past year. After much thought and consideration, I had three running goals this year:
PR a marathon
PR my greatest distance run
Improve my cumulative time for the entire Pennsylvania Triple Crown Series
With time running out to complete any unfinished tasks on this list, it appears that I will have missed the mark on two of my three goals. Things looked great to start the year. At my first race of the year (Rat Race 50k) that I was mainly using to check my fitness level I hit a 50k PR. That wasn’t even one of my goals, but I’ll take it! I managed to smash my marathon PR by nearly 20 minutes at the NJ Marathon only one week after running the Hyner 50k checking box number 1 off my list of goals. Goal number 3 seemed to be just a matter of time as I improved my times at Hyner 50k and Worlds End 100k, but the ultimate goal of improving my cumulative time would fall out of reach at Eastern States 100. I still can’t fully explain it, but something was just off with me leading up to and during that run. That only leaves goal number 2 left, to PR my greatest distance run. Unfortunately, after Eastern States 100 I was just feeling a bit burnt out on running altogether. My original plan was to tackle a supported 200 mile trail run after recovering from Eastern States. I thought that my fitness would be there and this was a great plan, but I hadn’t accounted for the unexpected burn out (and possibly the disappointment that played a role) I would be facing at that point. So in the end, I scrapped the 200 mile attempt and accepted the one out of three goal completion rate.
Although that seems like a low completion rate which may upset some people, I am still pleased with how my 2019 running season played out. I may have not hit all of the targets I set for myself, but I had some pretty big, unexpected successes in other areas. The first being the aforementioned 50k PR and the amazing end to the race where I got smoked by Rich Riopel a quarter mile from the finish. The second major accomplishment for the past year that I am super proud of is the success I’ve found in ‘last individual standing” (LIS) races. I registered and ran my first LIS race (Run Ragged) in June just two weeks after Worlds End 100k hoping to do well, but feeling pretty uncertain about how well with the lack of recovery time between the two races. Surprisingly, I turned out to be the last one standing. I followed that race up with my second LIS race, a true backyard race organized by a running buddy of mine with the start and finish in his backyard. This was a smaller race with only around twenty some runners. I went into it intending to stop at the 50 mile mark because Eastern States 100 was just four weeks away, but by that time it was down to me and one other runner. I decided to stay in it a bit longer and the other runner ended up timing out after finishing only one more lap. Again, I was the last one standing. With those two results, I’m excited to test myself next year at a more competitive LIS race and see what I’m capable of there.
So that more or less wraps up my goals and their outcomes for 2019. Now it is time to look ahead to next year and decide which endeavors I intend to tackle. I still want to PR my greatest distance run and take a shot at a 24 hour race, so I’m thinking I should be able to hit both of those targets in a single event. As for what else is on my to do list next year, I’ll have to give it some thought.
"Disclaimer: I received free entry to GAP Relay as part of being a BibRave Pro. Learn more about becoming a BibRave Pro (ambassador), and check out BibRave.com to review find and write race reviews!"
With my first ever relay formatted race behind me after the completion of the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) Trail Relay this past weekend, my overall impression of the event and format is that it was much tougher than I anticipated. With our Bibrave team of six runners, we each ran four legs of the 24 total legs that make up the 150 mile course. Each of us ran somewhere between 20ish to 30ish miles. When looking at this plan on paper, I may have been a bit overconfident or bordering on arrogant when I thought to myself that it didn’t sound challenging at all. “Run a 50k on a rail trail in four segments with few hours rest between each segment? I could practically do that in my sleep” I thought. Later, while I was actually experiencing the event, I would learn that it wasn’t as simple or straightforward as I originally thought and a few unforeseen challenges would emerge. I would also learn just how close I could be to sleeping while running during that final leg. Race management also went all out with the swag. Our swag bags at the start were packed with lots of great running gear and other useful items. We all got a long sleeve shirt, a Nathan flashing wearable safety light for night running, a $10 Sheetz gift card, Honey Stinger waffles, Honey Stinger gels, GU Hoppy Trails gel, body glide, Balega socks, and Nuun tabs. It was quite a haul!
At the start!
The first of several speed bumps our team hit along the way was a few unexpected roster changes. From the time of our team forming until arriving at the starting line, our team lost a few members and gained a few members. At the start of the event, two of our team of six had been original members. I get it. Life happens and this whole running thing is just for fun and entertainment. But this is an aspect of race preparation I had never had to deal with before. Up to this point, it was only me I had ever had to worry about getting to the starting line. Counting on nothing interfering in six people’s lives is a bit of a bigger ask. This is definitely a point to consider if you have never done a relay race format before and are looking to form or join a team. I wasn’t super stressed or worried at any point, but as a bit of a planner not knowing how many team members we may have at the start did bother me a bit. Although, through it all, I never had a doubt that the team we showed up with wouldn’t be able to make it to the finish.
First bridge crossing of the course!
What surprised me most about the race format and brought the majority of the challenges was the non running aspects of it. Navigating and traveling between exchange points to pick up and drop off runners was a challenge in itself. Probably more so than the running in my opinion. With a team of six runners and two vehicles we had the option to leapfrog longer stretches of the course rather than have both vehicles stop at every exchange point. But while the race was young and we were all still fresh and feeling energetic we wanted to cheer on our runners at every exchange point. If achieving our fastest time possible was our main goal, this probably was a terrible strategy. However, none of us were looking at this as a competitive event. We were all there to support one another and enjoy the experience. The extra stops and support of our teammates, although not the most efficient strategy, made the overall event more enjoyable.
Frostburg, exchange point #3.
Stopping at every exchange point made for many short chunks of recovery time outside of a vehicle. Arrive at exchange point, wait for runner, exchange runners, get to next exchange point, and repeat was our method of operation. It made for a fun day, but I found it particularly challenging to figure out how to fuel. At every stop I thought I should eat, but how much and what were tough questions to answer. I feel like I’ve honed in my nutrition for ultras for the most part, but this was a different situation. Usually for a 50k distance I’ll get by just on gels, but for a 50k spread out over about 24 hours I would need something more substantial than that. I more or less snacked on trail mix, chips, and some fruit most of the day then threw in a few peanut butter sandwiches when I felt like I had more of an appetite. The point that I felt the most hungry was when I finished my third and longest leg (an 11.5 mile stretch). Thankfully, the race organizers had hot Dominoes Pizza available at that exchange point. Seeing one of my teammates holding that pizza box after that exchange was one of the highlights of the event for me.
Only 134 miles to go to Pittsburgh!
As the day and exchanges of the race passed by, the sun began setting on what was a perfect weather day for an all day run. I finished my second leg just as the sun was starting to set. With the sun set imminent, I both looked forward to running my final two legs of the race in the dark while at the same time wishing we could do more daylight miles. I enjoy night running with only a headlamp for light, but in early October daylight becomes more and more fleeting as the temperatures begin to drop. It’s hard to say goodbye to those last nearly perfect running weather days of the fall season offers.
We followed these train tracks for the majority of the entire course!
I first began to feel just a few pangs of weariness at dusk. It was getting to be around the normal time for me to get the kids ready for bed and my bedtime is usually shortly after. My body began reminding me of this. It didn’t get bad before or during my third leg of the race. In fact, after that third leg I was feeling pretty hyped up, only one leg left to run! But during the break between my third and fourth legs our team decided to leapfrog exchange points so we could all have more time to rest before running our final legs. Once we got to the next exchange point we had about two hours before we were expecting our runner to come in. I tried and managed to sleep for a little bit, maybe an hour but it didn’t feel like I got a good rest or was refreshed when it was time to get ready to run again. Having never slept mid race before, this was all a learning experience for me. I’ve read and heard about people running 200’s that claim they slept for 5-15 minutes and were completely refreshed. Apparently this is something I’m going to have to work on if I want to run longer races where sleep deprivation becomes an unavoidable issue because when I got up from my nap I still felt as dead tired as I did before dozing off.
After my final leg I got cleaned up a bit and got changed into some clean, dry, and comfortable clothes before making the drive to the next exchange station. I also got ahold of a cup of coffee that was offered at the exchange station I finished at. At some point during that rather short drive, unexpectedly and seemingly almost magically the sun rose and it was daylight when I arrived at the next exchange station. In my sleep deprived, fog filled brain I had lost total track of what time it was. The fact that it was light out when I arrived honestly surprised me.
Photo booth photos.
The sunrise (in addition to the Panera coffee and bagels) at this stop helped drive some of the sleepiness out of my head. The organizers of the event must have expected this exchange point (Boston, #20) to be the final leg for a good deal of runners given the facilities there. In addition to the refreshments, there was also a photo booth so runners could record how great they look after tackling roughly 127 miles of the course. Although I wasn’t aware of it until a few exchange stops later, it turned out there were even showers there. If only I had known, I may have looked a bit more fresh in my photo booth shoot with my hot dog hat!
One of the signs near the end of my second leg of the course.
As all of our team members wrapped up their final legs of the race, we finally found ourselves awaiting our final runner just a couple hundred feet from the finish line. With the finish line celebratory music well within earshot, our final runner came into view. When she reached us we all got our legs to move again and ran across the finish line as a team. The announcer was quite a hype man and got every team pumped as they crossed the finish line. After receiving our finisher medals and getting some finish line photos, we made our way over to the conveniently located after party at the Hofbrauhaus. With the beautiful South Shore Riverfront Park in view from our seating area, we were served large soft dough pretzels with cheese dipping sauce and our choice of biers: lager, hefe weizen, or dunkel. On top of it all, there was a bottomless pierogi buffet that our table ate our share of.
Finish line photo!
So, did I get what I expected from the GAP Trail Relay? I met some fellow BibRave Pros and got to run some miles with them through some beautiful areas of Pennsylvania in near perfect weather. I explored a good portion of a rail trail I had never set foot on previously. So yes, I did get everything I expected and even more: a greater challenge than I had thought I would face.
"Disclaimer: I received free entry to GAP Relay as part of being a BibRave Pro. Learn more about becoming a BibRave Pro (ambassador), and check out BibRave.com to review find and write race reviews!"
How does one prepare for a type of race they’ve never run before? I find myself asking this as I prepare for the GAP Trail Relay having never run a relay format race before. I feel physically prepared to handle the distance without any issues, but what it will be like running that distance as a part of a team with breaks between the legs is what I’m unsure of. Will cramping be an issue during the car rides between legs? Will the overnight sleepiness affect me more taking breaks between legs than when I simply run through the night at other ultramarathons? How do I fuel for a 30ish mile run that is broken into four legs over an unknown amount of time? Having all of these unanswered questions makes preparing nearly impossible. My overall plan is to go into this completely open minded and willing to adjust to changes on the fly. I have read up reports from others on how to run relays. I learned what worked for some teams and what caused problems for other teams. As far as I can tell, that is the best preparation I can do without having any first hand experience. The best case scenario is that things go well and our team has a great time. The worst case scenario I’m envisioning is that we have some problems and I learn something from the experience for the next relay. I’m looking forward to the challenge regardless of the outcome.
It’s been a little over a week since Eastern States (ES) 100 as I begin to write this and now that my sodden, pungent clothing and gear has been cleaned and the wounds are for the most part healed I am beginning to have a greater appreciation for how my day there played out. I went in with a single goal that I thought was well within reach given the year I had thus far. The goal was simple, finish in less time than it took me in 2017 (27:17:24). This would also ensure a faster cumulative time for the 2019 Pennsylvania Triple Crown Series over my 2017 time for the series (47:47:36). Since I had finished both Worlds End 100k and Hyner 50k faster in 2019 than 2017, this goal seemed well within reach. However, the uncertainty of the 100 mile distance and how things can go south at any point was a constant concern for me. Excessive worrying about the potential for things to fall apart may be what ultimately led to me failing to reach my goal.
Pretty early in the race. Photo credit: Joseph Hess
For about two weeks leading up to the race I was feeling extremely anxious, more so and for a longer period before the race than I have ever experienced in any other lead up to a race. Adding to my trepidation was a work trip that I had scheduled for the week just before race weekend. I would be flying back to Philadelphia Friday around noon, then getting picked up by my wife to make the remainder of the drive to Little Pine State Park. I packed my two drop bags and everything I would need at the start the weekend before the race then worried all week hoping I hadn’t forgotten anything. By the time the work week was over and I was picking up my bib at registration the relief I was expecting didn’t wash over me. I had my stuff ready a week prior, managed to get there without any flight delays interfering with my travel plans, and now all I had to do was run 103 miles on the rugged trails of the PA Wilds. I guess there was still good reason to have a fair amount of nervous excitement.
Lower Pine Bottom AS, Mile 17.8
Thankfully, I managed to get a pretty solid night’s sleep before the 5am start, but at the starting line the jitters were still present. I did my best to deal with them in hopes that they would subside once I got on the trail and put a few miles behind me. Everything went well for the first 50k or so. I knew what pace I had to keep to meet my goal and I was staying ahead of that pace and feeling comfortable doing it. The climbs didn’t seem as bad as I had remembered and my quads were handling them well. It almost seemed like it was too easy this trip around Pine Creek. It was shortly after AS5 (Happy Dutchman) that I got hit with my first blow when I realized my watch had led me astray. The actual mileage at AS5 is 31.6. My watch, which has otherwise always been reliable and pretty accurate, was reporting that I had covered a little over 36 miles. I was focusing on only getting aid station to aid station so I was mostly just using my total mileage to see how much farther to the next aid station. When the signage at AS5 showed the mileage to the next AS as 6.9 and I used the inaccurate information on my watch that would put me at about 43 miles total. That was a significant mile marker as it is the second crewed AS, Hyner Run. I got excited that I would get to see my wife and boys again and it felt so soon since I had just seen them at the first crewed aid station. Mileage and the next aid station came up in conversation with a couple other runners and when their watches synced I realized mine was off and there was one more AS between us and the next crewed AS. It was a bit shocking at the time, but I tried to comfort myself by saying I was happy to find out early how far my watch was off rather than later. However, later in the race while talking to one of the other runners that helped me realize my error, he would tell me that my face showed a bit of a soul crushed reaction when I realized it was my watch that was off.
With that minor mishap out of the way early, the rest of the daylight hours of the race rolled by pretty pleasantly for the most part. I don’t know if it was due to the low temperatures we had on race day or just my misconstrued recollection of the course, but my second time running ES I was shocked by how much of the course felt runnable. The majority of my memories of the ES course was super technical descents intermixed with steep, rocky climbs. This time though,outside of two big early climbs (just before AS1, Ramsey Rd. and just after AS3, Lower Pine Bottom) the bulk of the first half of the course was feeling runnable. And I was running the bulk of it and staying on my target pace even after I adjusted for my watch’s misinformation without feeling like I was pushing myself even near the point where I thought a blow up was a possibility.
Another AS stop.
A second mishap started emerging or at least giving indications of larger problems about the same time as when my watch mishap was discovered. This mishap began with some slight discomfort around the bottom elastic of my hydration vest. I was wearing the same vest and same shirt that I have worn for 100ks and 100 milers in the past with only minor chafing issues, but this time around those minor chafing issues became exasperated and caused major chafing that was never resolved no matter how much or what kind of lube I threw at it. Since the equipment and clothing was the same, the only explanation I can come up with is that I was carrying more weight in the vest than I had ever packed before. I had trained with Science in Sport (SIS) gels all season and wanted to use them for the race so I packed 10 in my vest at the start and had 10 replacements in each of my drop bags. Also, I wasn’t positive gels would be available at every AS. Ten gels may not sound like much additional weight, but SIS gels are roughly about twice the volume of standard energy gels making a bit bulkier to carry and nearly doubling the weight. The best guess I have at this point is that the extra weight/volume in the vest made it fit and move differently than any time I’ve worn it in the past. Ultimately leading to some terribly painful chafing. I like to think I’m not one to complain about the little stuff, but this turned into a steady distracting pain from about the halfway point to the finish. I also like to think I’m not one to blame equipment for my failures, but in this situation the equipment had a major impact on my focus and overall mindset. I never thought about quitting because my sides had been rubbed raw by my pack, but the pain constantly pulled my focus off of running and moving efficiently to just thinking about taking this pack off as soon as possible.
The worst of my chafing.
The watch incident and the chafing issue are the only two concrete items I can point to that led to me falling off of my target pace, neither of which I truly deem responsible. I was ahead of my intended pace for a 27 hour finish at AS9, Halfway House (54.7 miles), but somewhere between there and AS14, Blackwell (80.3 miles) where I was picking up a pacer and had my next time goal calculated I was well over an hour behind where I wanted to be. It was strange because I never felt completely exhausted, but had this strange feeling of never feeling like I was pushing myself to the limit and always running overly safe without getting out of my comfort zone. In retrospect, it seems like I was so concerned about blowing up that I never pushed to my full potential for the day. Usually with hundred milers I feel like I get into some kind of singular focus and survival mentality, only concentrating on getting to the finish as quickly as possible. For whatever reason, that switch never got flipped this time.
A power hug from my youngest!
Even with my time goal out of reach and twenty some miles to go, I was excited to pick up a pacer at Blackwell. It was my first time using a pacer. It wasn’t the situation I had envisioned of being on pace and having my pacer push me to the finish ahead of pace, but he was able to up my morale and that of the couple other runners I had spent the majority of the night with. I will admit, we had a bit of a pity party on the trail overnight and it likely would have continued the rest of dark early morning hours if we were not joined by a pacer. With a bit of fresh energy provided by our pacer, Kurt Foster, we picked our pace up for the respectable climb out of Blackwell. Kurt continued to push our pace for the remainder of the race, reminding us every time the trail was runnable. With my time goal a lost cause, he kept me from basically giving up and walking it in, pushing me to earn a finish time that I could be proud of.
At AS11, Slate Run, 63.8 miles.
We grinded our way in the dark to the next AS, Skytop. It was a little tough mentally to leave this one because the crew there was so accommodating and we knew the stretch to the next AS was one of the longer ones of the race. Without getting too comfortable, we ushered ourselves out and pushed on. Thanks to Kurt, our pass through the second to last AS, Barrens, was one of our fastest. We refilled bottles, grabbed food, and were out in probably 1-2 minutes. We were as fast if not fastest passing through Hacketts, the final AS. With only about four miles left, not much was needed and the excitement to finish was peaking, at least I thought.
At packet pick up.
Shortly after leaving Hacketts near the top of the final climb of the course we heard a runner coming up behind us quick. Kurt turned to me and said something along the lines of “you don’t wanna get passed just a couple miles from the finish.” I replied by saying that I wasn’t sure if I have anything left. Then Kurt said something that finally lit a spark at the time. He basically said even if I attempted to outrun him for the last two miles and still got passed, then I could just walk it in and still get the same result even if I hadn’t made the effort. For whatever reason, at the time that got me to dig and give it my best effort to stay in front of this other runner. That’s when things finally started to become fun again. I was moving and feeling good. Before I knew it, I caught sight of a runner ahead of me. We passed him. Now things were getting really exciting for the finish and the final gnarly descent of the course. In the last two miles or so, we passed four runners. It amazed me that we were so close to these other runners and without that little spark provided by Kurt, I would have contentedly shuffled in to the finish after them.
My 2019 finish!
I crossed the finish line at 28:46:52, a full hour and almost 47 minutes after when I had intended to finish. At the beginning of this report I wrote that I failed. I may come off sounding like a bit of a jerk or a real pessimist by saying that I wasn’t entirely pleased with this finish. It’s easy to say that any 100 miler finish, especially a tough 100 mile course like ES, is something you should be proud of. However, after assessing how my legs felt during that last steep downhill this year compared to two years ago, I knew I had more left in me at the finish this year. In 2017 I was desperately bouncing from tree to tree to keep from going into an out of control tumble down the incline. This time, although my quads were screaming, I was bombing the downhill mostly in control. The fact that the spark to push harder earlier never happened is what I was really disappointed about. The “what if”s were what bothered me. After a few weeks to digest it all, I still can’t say that I’m not a bit disappointed that this final piece of my PA Triple Crown Series goal didn’t fall into place like I had hoped, but I can say that I am proud of the finish and to have completed the full series for a second time.
Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can't cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It's just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.
Going into Worlds End (WE) 100k this year my head was not in a good place for both personal life reasons and running related reasons. Advanced warning before you get too far into reading this report, as I begin to write it I fear it will sound like I’m whining and will get into some nonrunning related issues in my life. If you want a more Worlds End running focused report check out my 2017 and 2018 reports. Otherwise if you’re somewhat intrigued with a poor mental state leading up to a race and a lesson learned from it, by all means continue reading. For multiple reasons to be explained, I was battling a lack of motivation, questioning my abilities, and suffering from an overall rather pessimistic outlook in general.
The day before at registration.
I’ll start with the running issues that contributed to me having a bit of lack of motivation and confidence leading up to WE. I was feeling pumped based on my two most recent races before WE. I ran my best time after three attempts at Hyner 50k and a week later I ran a road marathon PR at the NJ Marathon. With basically just a month between the NJ Marathon and WE I planned to do an easy recovery week, ramp up with a decent training week, get in a quality 20ish mile long run, then ease into a taper. Things went as planned up until that quality 20ish mile long run. I got in my 20 mile long run, but it by no means felt like a quality run. My legs felt heavy from the start, I felt tired and sluggish for the entire run, and I struggled to maintain what I felt like should have been an easy pace for flat, nontechnical trails. So I did the only logical thing I could do, I did a 20 mile road run the following weekend expecting it to be much faster and to feel much better about myself going into WE. That follow up long run did not go as planned either. I felt better and was slightly faster (20.08 miles in 2:49:41 versus 20.0 miles in 2:59:27), but the small pace improvement and still not feeling strong while achieving it did very little to improve my confidence.
With back to back weekends of disappointing long runs behind me, the next weekend I followed the most logical course of action: I asked for advice from a retired Olympic trampolinist (aka my brother in law). After talking about training cycles, building, peaking, and my lack of all of those things much less a training plan, he said I should just rest the last week before WE. I took that advice and did not run at all for an entire week before WE. I had never tapered that hard before, so I was extremely nervous not even having a couple easy paced short runs the week leading into WE. It also didn’t help improve my confidence at all, but as my brother in law was suggesting, the training and endurance are already there, my body just needs a break to recuperate before being pushed again.
Now to go over the non running issues that were contributing to my less than ideal mental state for the start of WE. I shouldn’t say issues, as it was more so a singular work related issue. For the most part I’m usually pretty good about not letting work frustrations bother me outside of work, but given this situation I could not let it not bother me. In an attempt to not make this a long, drawn out complaining post, I will try to sum up the main points of the situation quickly. Basically, I was offered a temporary detail promotion because the manager of our office had been reassigned to a one year detail. Not long after accepting I was told the position didn’t exist and so I could not have the promotion but I could still do the additional duties that came along with the promotion. Not such a good deal. Not long after that development the temporary detail position was advertised and two other employees from other offices were selected for the three and four month temporary acting manager details. The motivating factors that went into the decision making are still unknown to me. Being passed over for a temporary promotion that I was told doesn’t exist after I had unofficially been doing the additional duties of that position for four months was enough to make me update my resume and start job searching, but not do anything crazy like quit on the spot. Anyway, that’s enough non running stuff to explain why my head was out of sorts.
The view from my cozy car camping.
To add to my disappointment just before the race, my family had a last minute change of plans for the race weekend. We had planned to make an extended camping trip out of this race weekend with our neighbors who have kids that are friends with ours coming along for the trip. I had been telling my family and theirs about how great Worlds End State Park is and how nice the camp sites are for two years. I had finally convinced them to come along for a camping trip and 100k trail run. Unfortunately, the weather reports for extended thunderstorms and rain for the entire weekend caused our neighbors to fear that it would be a miserable weekend for camping so they bailed on us. I got the news Thursday afternoon when I arrived home from work. Making the blow sting even worse, my family decided to back out as well since their friends wouldn’t be coming along. In a flash my weekend went from running an awesome, scenic 100k with my friends and family there to cheer me on and celebrate with afterwards to just me taking off for the weekend.
Between the poor long training runs, last minute plan changes, and the professional life disappointments I was feeling confused, cynical, and worthless which is not a good way to start an ultra. Regardless of the outcome, I showed up even if my attitude about it was pretty crappy. I tried to convince myself that I was excited for it and that even if things weren’t going well in my professional life I at least still had ultramarathons as an escape, but when I woke up the morning of the race after a night of camping the initial thought I had was “time to get this over with.” Not the best mindset to start a gueling 15ish hour endeavor, but I had faith that once I became immersed in the trail running things would start to feel right.
Just before the finish!
Makes it all worthwhile!
For the most part, that’s exactly what happened. I tried to turn on autopilot and just run the course basically the same way I did in 2018, going out at a comfortable pace while taking in plenty of calories and not blowing up. Pretty much everything fell into place. The course didn’t completely cooperate, but it didn’t bother me. It had been wet leading up to the race and the course had long stretches of extremely sloppy, swampy areas. It reminded me of the conditions from my first time at WE in 2017. That year it really got to me because every stretch of trail that looked runnable ended up being a sloppy mess and I was not able to get into any kind of rhythm. This year was different. Even though the conditions were similar, I managed to still move in a way that felt efficient and consistent. I felt strong on the climbs, my stomach never felt upset, and I was never completely exhausted. It was almost a perfect repeat of last year based on performance, only slightly faster as I finished in 14:11:21 compared to my 14:18:47 finish last year.
I mentioned at the beginning that there was a lesson learned for me from this whole experience. It wasn’t about how important thinking positively going into an ultra is because I was pretty negative going into this one and still executed better than last year. The lesson for me was that ultramarathons or running in general can’t always be used as an escape from other issues in my life. Or maybe more accurately, ultras and this silly hobby of mine will not resolve other life challenges. I went into this race with a bad attitude. Then the race was going well and I had a great time. I felt even better when the outcome was an improvement over last year. But afterwards all of the circumstances that had caused my mental anguish had not changed. I had just lowered the amount of attention I allowed them for a few days. This may be kind of a sour note to end a report of a positive race on, but that is how this chapter of this ultra season ended for me.
“A lot of people decry competition as a negative thing. It’s not. You come to love your competitors because you’ve been through this hell together. You don’t want your competitors to quit, but you need them to quit. These things are going on in your head at the same time. That’s a little bit evil. A total mindfuck, runners say.”
-- Gary Cantrell aka Lazarus Lake
Forty-two. It is the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything", at least according to Douglas Adams in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It was also the number of runners that arrived to run the inaugural Run Ragged on June 13th in Berlin, CT at the Ragged Mountain Trailhead. Maybe it’s a bit of a coincidence in a sense because I’ve found that longer distance ultras are an excellent means for me to believe I’ve found the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything", at least at the wee hours of the morning after exhaustion sets in and my fragile mind starts getting somewhat loopy.
The event was a slight twist on the last person standing race format made explosively popular recently by Courtney Dauwalter and Johan Steene’s amazing performances (279.168 and 283.335 miles respectively) at the 2018 Big Backyard Ultra hosted by the evil genius Gary Cantrell aka Lazarus Lake. The race format requires runners to complete a 4.166667 mile loop in under an hour. The beauty of the rather seemingly random distance is that in exactly 24 hours you’ll have run exactly 100 miles. Sounds pretty easy so far, but every hour the race restarts and all runners must do it again and again and again until all but one runner remains. The last runner to finish one lap more than any other runner becomes the sole winner; all other runners receive a big fat DNF (Did Not Finish). Is it fair? Maybe not. Could it be soul crushing? Maybe so, but that is how the race format works. In fact, there could be no winner at all if a final group of runners goes out and none of them make it back before the one hour cut off.
The RDs of Run Ragged added a few twists to the format making it a bit unique amongst the abundant crop of so many new races that have popped up recently which are nearly exact replicas of the Big Backyard Ultra format. Where the traditional format uses a daylight trail loop and a night road course, Run Ragged used a single trail loop for its entirety. Most last person standing races use a relatively easy 4.166667-mile-long course. Run Ragged opted for a more challenging 5k loop. It was a shorter distance, but from what I’ve heard of other last person standing events the terrain and elevation gain (≈ 500’ per lap) made it a tougher course. While a good portion of the Run Ragged course was runnable, it was not easy or mindless running. The more runnable sections were broken up by technical stretches, short and steep climbs, and some tricky descents.
Just before the start.
The Run Ragged course is made up entirely of the New England Trail (NET) and NET side/connector trails. The NET was designated a National Scenic Trail in March of 2009. The course starts at the Ragged Mountain Preserve trailhead following the red/blue Ragged Mountain Preserve trail for about 0.78 miles. Then just before turning onto the yellow/blue Ragged Mountain Preserve trail you are treated to a pretty welcome vista overlooking Lower Heart Pond. This stretch of trail is roughly about 0.85 miles and in my opinion seemed to be the most technical and unrunnable stretch of the course. After that you hop onto section 15 of the NET for about 1.52 miles. The course wraps up by following the orange/blue Ragged Mountain Preserve trail for the last 0.68 miles. Now I know what you’re probably thinking, “That equals a total of 3.83 miles! You said it was a 5k loop!” Let me explain. These distances are based on the trail map on the Ultrasignup registration page. The NET trail map itinerary page confirms the distances of the yellow/blue and orange/blue trails, but the course only uses short portions of the other two trails so their distances can not be confirmed there. My gps data was pretty close to what the RD had said, that it is a 5kish loop so rather than going round in circles indefinitely (pun intended) over this topic, I’ll leave the discussion of distances there.
Map from the Run Ragged registration page.
First things first, let’s get the obvious on the table. A last person standing event is nothing like a normal race. In fact, after running this one as my first I even question calling it a race at all. I first became interested in the format when I listened Billy Yang’s interview of Guillaume Calmettes following his win at the 2017 Big Backyard Ultra. Then after following Courtney and Johan’s epic battle in 2018 I felt I needed some of that in my life. I applied for the 2019 Big Backyard Ultra and so did many other more qualified ultrarunners. I was disappointed to not even make the waitlist, but thankfully many last person standing events starting popping up all over. I figured that if I ever want to be selected to run at the Big Backyard Ultra inTN, the best way to do it is to earn a spot there by building my resume. So I jumped into the most local last person standing event I could find, Run Ragged with every intention of being the last person standing. I know I’m not the most talented runner out there and I don’t follow a strict training plan or specific diet. But I can be extremely rigid and single minded once I have my mind set to something and I hate the idea of giving up or quitting. The way I saw it, these qualities may give me a distinct advantage over far more talented and better trained runners than myself so why not just go all in?
Another finish to an early lap.
The start of the race was strange. The 5k loop was easy to do within the allotted hour at a relaxed pace even with the technical single track and the elevation change. I didn’t push myself to get it done faster than I had to and was getting it done comfortably in about 45-50 minutes during all of the daylight hours. My strategy was to do as little damage to my body as possible early on so I could last as long as possible. This meant not exerting myself if it wasn’t necessary. It meant being careful of foot placement with every step to minimize impact and avoid any unnecessary damage to my feet to curtail foot pain in the later stages. With this strategy in my head, my mind was on the long game. Mentally I was already wondering if this would go into a second overnight run and was telling myself to be ready for it if it did. With the 10 minutes or so that I had between laps I spent my time taking selfies, refueling, and rehydrating. I ate a mix of real food (whatever was available at the aid station: Doritos, pizza, rice soup, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, grilled cheeses, oranges, etc.) and Science In Sport isotonic gels. For hydration, I mainly drank the Skratch that was provided at the aid station, but I also brought some iced coffees and coconut water to treat myself to a little variety of refreshments.
One of the earlier starts when it was done to just three.
I felt this early strategy served me well, but it was hard to reel myself in. A few laps I did run a bit faster, but when I got back and spent more time in my chair I didn’t like waiting around to go back out. So I decided then that I would move slowly and consistently rather than race around just to wait to race again. The race format was messing with me even early. It felt like a super mellow group run for the first 10 hours or so. You’d go out, run comfortably with a few people chatting it up then sit down and refresh for a few minutes before doing it all again. Often, it would be with an entirely new group or you’d have one or two new additions to your group. Rarely did I find myself alone or stressed before the sunset. Yet that overall mellow and carefree facade was just a cover that this relentless monster of a race format uses to lull you in to a serene mindset that will likely be your demise as it continues and ultimately reveals itself as the cruel beast it is. As a cynic, I knew this and never trusted this race format for what it appeared to be near the start. I checked my watch more often during this race than any other race I’ve ever run (other than the 2017 Batona 50 where my watch crapped out on me). I decided early that I would not get sucked into its false sense of security.
The "Three Amigos", me with my bananas.
And that’s basically how day one went, from 9 AM until sundown. The only other stand out moment I feel I should mention happened during one of the midday starts. As everyone was heading out after the whistle blew we were passing by a family that had been out for a trail walk and stuck around to watch the start of a “race”. A young rather perplexed looking girl in the family watched all the runners shuffle by, many with either an Icee pop or slice of pizza in their hands. “This is a race?!” she exclaimed in a baffled tone as we passed. That single phrase and how she said it had me laughing for a good part of the next lap.
Heading out again.
Then it became dusk, headlamps came out, and soon after we were into the night running portion of this competition. My pace and strategy didn’t really change much over night. I was kinda looking forward to the night portion of the race because I hadn’t run through the night since my last 100 miler (Mines of Spain) back in October. There’s something about running through the night on trails with nothing but your headlamp to light your way that I love. I love how it is a release from all of my normal day to day worries. When I’m trail running through the night all that matters is forward motion and getting to where I’m going. My entire universe reaches only as far as the light from my headlamp. The other reason that I was looking forward to the night was because I assumed that’s when more runners would start dropping and I’d be able to edge closer to a win. This turned out to be true and I found myself alone on the trail more and more often as the night went on.
The aid station at the start of the event.
For the first mile on one lap overnight I decided I would keep pace with the dwindling lead pack as they went out from the start. After that mile, I said to myself “No more of that. My strategy seems to be serving me well, why change it now?” Not that I knew if my strategy was better, but I wanted to find out how long I could last without risking blowing myself up. The only other highlight from overnight that I want to point out was the volunteer that was stationed as the overlook cliff guard from about 8 PM to 4 AM. This dude was full of energy and had Coke and Mountain Dew shots lined up for us every time we passed. He had a cowbell to ring leading up to his station and a cymbal to hit as you were exiting. He was an aid station hype man and just what ultrarunners need during those low points at the wee hours of the morning. He even hyped up a midnight drink special he had planned for us. It turned out to be apple cider vinegar with a sprinkle of cayenne pepper, I think? It doesn’t sound good, but it was oddly refreshing at the time.
Preparing to head out again.
After 52.7 miles and 17 hours we were down to four runners by the early hours of the morning. As daylight broke I realized how many runners we had lost overnight and how few runners remained. Then three laps later after the sun had risen we lost one more. It was now down to the final three. The three of us would continue to battle mentally and physically with ourselves and with one another for nearly another 50k before anyone finally gave in. During those nine laps the three of us all went out together. I can’t speak for where the other two were mentally, but I was feeling isolated for a good part of those laps. The other two runners were more local, had a girlfriend/wife with them (at some point), and seemed to at least be running friends with some of the volunteers. I went solo to this race and it was my first race in CT so I was meeting all of these people for the first time. In my mind at the time that seemed like a huge advantage for the other two runners. Especially when a volunteer started reading Facebook posts from their trail running group rooting for the two of them. It was hard not to feel like an outsider in that moment. But a few people that I had just met less than 24 hours earlier stepped up and gave me encouragement. One person in particular who I had only chatted with online a few times previously went out of their way after their final lap to let me know they were betting on me to win this thing. It may have not seemed like much to that person at the time, but at some of my lowest, loneliest moments it helped keep me going.
Brushing my teeth has never felt better.
My absolute lowest point of the race was the 25th lap. After 24 hours of running without sleep and not having a finish line in sight, it all started to catch up with me. The other two guys were both consistently finishing their laps faster than me and had more time to regroup between laps where as my pace had slowed and I was typically coming in with about five minutes to spare. Mentally it was wearing on me and I began to think it was only a matter of time until I didn’t make a cut off. Before the one mile mark of that lap I almost turned around and walked back to the start to quit. But I didn’t. I figured I’m almost a mile out, I might as well finish this lap before I quit. As I passed the new cliff guard volunteer I announced that this would likely be my last lap. She tried to encourage me, but I didn’t pay it much attention. I decided to call my wife to tell her I was ready to take my first DNF. After a short conversation with her I agreed to finish this lap and to keep finishing laps until I got timed out. Talking to her and my two sons lit a bit of a fire in me for the remainder of that lap and I moved well until I got back to the restart. Then it was mostly lows again. At one point I actually sat down on a log that was across the trail and told myself that if I sat there long enough I wouldn’t be able to make it back in time and I would be able to quit without saying I quit. But I got off of that log and ran it in before the cut off. Some of this mental anguish may have been due to nutrition as none of the aid station food was sounding good anymore and I hadn’t eaten much real food since the soup in the early hours of the morning. Thankfully I guess I started to recognize this and fixed it by devouring bananas, leaving every start with a banana in my hand and sometimes with one in my water bottle pocket as well.
And again...
At every break between laps I would try to size up the other two guys. They were both getting more recovery time between laps and neither were showing any signs of quitting as hard as I looked for them. Which is why it was so unexpected when one of them (Joseph Nuara) finally threw in the towel after 29 hours and 89.9 miles. It nearly brought me to tears when he said he was done, but once I started running the next lap it gave me a spark. It was now down to two. As we headed out for or first lap as the final two I told the other runner (Matt Pedersen) that however this thing ends, it’s been real. I wasn’t sure if we were playing mind games with one another or just chatting anymore, but Matt and I were talking about this race continuing into another night and whether we would be able to continue to do the loop in under an hour after dark. I wanted to show him it wouldn’t be a problem for me so I picked up the pace on that lap and came in with over 10 minutes to spare. It began to rain again as we went back out for our next lap and then it rained heavier. I continued my faster pace wanting to convince him that the last faster lap wasn’t just a fluke. Surprisingly, he slowed way down for this lap and I finished before him for the first time. I was convinced he did it just to mess with my head and was going to come in just a minute or two before the cut off to make me think it was nearly over when it wasn’t.
An early photo of the overlook at Lower Heart Pond.
He came in with about eight minutes to spare then sat down in his chair like normal. I was going through my normal routine of drinking water and taking in calories when Matt came over from his chair and said the words "take your victory lap". Without thinking, I immediately got up and gave him a hug. I could try to express the emotions I felt right then in my own words, but I believe Cantrell said it best already: “A lot of people decry competition as a negative thing. It’s not. You come to love your competitors because you’ve been through this hell together. You don’t want your competitors to quit, but you need them to quit. These things are going on in your head at the same time. That’s a little bit evil. A total mindfuck, runners say.” The relief and strangely the disappointment when I finally knew there was an end in sight was a surprisingly emotional experience and overwhelming; I couldn't hold back tears and had to wipe my eyes a few times and recompose myself before heading out for my final lap. A few minutes later when Matt counted me down to go out for my final lap I was all smiles. I recall excitedly telling everyone how I was finally going to run this course. Knowing that the finish line was there gave me a burst of energy that I had no idea was still available to me. That last lap (39 min.) was my fastest of the 32 laps (99.2 miles) that I ran during the entire event.
This was the start of the first lap with only two left, just after Joe counted us down and sent us on our way.
I’ve probably gone on longer than I should have already for this race report, but I like to close all of my race reports with some kind of take home message or a lesson learned. Here are the words I wrote just before 6 AM Monday morning after the race when I arrived home with only four hours of sleep since the finish. After rereading this post, I still feel like this sums the event up pretty well.
“After a four hour drive broken up by a four hour nap in the car at a rest area parking lot on the garden state parkway all following a 32ish hour "running" competition, I brought this baby home. A beautifully crafted momento of an event that will be hard to recap into words. But now, while they are fresh and raw I have the main takeaways from this race: 1 - it was the first race that I have ever had to deal with the pressure of chasing cut offs, which is a completely different feeling than failing to meet your self imposed time goals; 2 - it was the first race during which I seriously contemplated dropping for extended periods and was on the verge of dropping on several occasions; 3 - it was the first race that has ever brought me to tears. I was close to tears when Joe dropped, but the relief when Matt said the words "take your victory lap" and I finally knew there was an end in sight was overwhelming and I couldn't hold them back. So many thanks to the RDs, race organizers, the CT Trailmixers, emergency personnel, and all the volunteers that made this an amazing experience for so many. All of us runners are in your debt. Now it is time for a long overdue shower beer!”
