Date: November 20, 2010
Location: Washington County, Maryland
With three 50Ks under my belt this season, I decided it was good year to up the ante a bit and try a longer distance ultra. So, in July, following the carefully outlined instructions, I submitted my entry for a lottery spot in the JFK 50 miler. Why JFK? Well, two of my 50s this season were in September (Haliburton Forest) and October (Run for the Toad), so I wanted to find a race that came later than that to capitalize on the miles I would have logged during these two events and throughout the season. I was also looking for an opportunity to knock another state off my lifetime bucket list of racing in every state and province in Canada and the U.S. (still have a looooonnng way to go!). And what the heck, I figured it was a win-win situation: either I “won” by getting a spot in the race or I really “won” by not having to run 50 miles!
As the accepted entries began to be posted, I found myself lurking on the website daily. Did I allow enough time for my entry to get there? Would I be accepted having not run the distance before? With an estimated 10 000 entries for 1000 spots, I knew my chances weren’t great. But, alas, the ultra deities decided that I should get to get the opportunity to punish myself by running for an entire day and soon my name was added to the list.
With lots of miles logged in trail races this year, I felt pretty confident about my ability to cover the distance, even though the last 30K would be an unknown entity to me. I also felt good about the course, as it would not be considered very physically or techically challenging compared to many other ultras. In the last few weeks leading up the race, though, my body began to rebel; specifically my hip flexors which refused to loosen up and were causing me considerable discomfort even walking and when in bed at night. But with an aggressive taper recommended by my chiropractor / active release guru, lots of massage, ART appointments and hot yoga, I got to the starting line feeling pretty good.
JFK has quite the following, with many participants returning year after year after year (seriously, the guy behind me in line at the packet pick-up was going for # 27!) to test their mettle against 50 miles of Applachian Trail and C&O Towpath. Wanting to capitalize on the experience of all of these veterans, I asked anyone who would listen to me their advice for a first-timer. The most memorable (and sage) advice that I was given could apply to any long distance event: “drink before you get thirsty; eat before you get hungry; walk before you get tired.”
The race started at 7:00 am in downtown Boonsboro. There was an optional 5:00 am start for up to 250 runners who thought they might need the additional two hours to complete the course, which has a moderately aggressive 12 hour time limit, along with cut-offs at every aid station along the way. The night before the race, I lay in bed, wide awake, wondering if I should have written the required appeal for the 5:00 am start and doing the math in my head about how fast I’d need to run in order to make all the cut-offs.
The first couple of miles of the race climbed up some paved roads to the start of the Appalachian Trail, where the real fun (and my favourite part of the race) began. For the next twelve or so miles, I was in heaven. The path was rolling, the views spectacular, and my legs felt great. I got to the first cut-off (9.4 miles) with 40 minutes to spare, and the next (15.5 miles) with well over an hour. But, alas, heaven was short lived as next came…
hell, or at least my running version of it. 27 or so miles of C&O towpath, a wide, flat, dirt / gravel path. Totally straight, totally flat, totally (at least for me) BORING. Within 2o minutes of setting foot on that thing I wondered how I was ever going to survive running on it for 5-6 hours. But eventually I came to terms with it. I didn’t think of the total distance but rather ran from aid station to aid station. I struck up conversation with those around me about how good it would feel to get off the damn thing, played lots of mental games (like “let’s run to that twisty tree then we can walk for a minute”) and chugged along. It was on the rail-trail-from-hell that I experienced my one low point in the race, which probably lasted an hour or two when I felt that I was in “no man’s land”; in other words, many hours into the race, already kind of tired, but not even near the halfway mark. I summoned some of my favourite ultra mantras to get through this, such as “the faster you run, the sooner you are done,” or “this too shall pass,” the latter always reminding me that the low points always go away eventually.
And then, before you know it (actually between 4:00-4:30), I bid a not-so-fond farewell to the C&O, actually looking forward to the rolling country roads that comprise the last 8.5 or so miles of the course. Volunteers handed us reflective vests so that we wouldn’t get run over and words of encouragement as we headed off for the final leg of the course. I couldn’t have been happier – I had plenty of time to make the final cut-off and although my legs really didn’t want to run anymore, I was able to convince them too (sometimes). When the finish line finally came into sight in downtown Williamsport, I was ecstatic, and managed my finest “you’d never know I just ran 50 miles” dash across the finish line. 11 hours and 36 minutes after starting, I completed my first 50 miler. Whew!
Of the 1667 entrants who started the race, 1014 finished and I was 804. The course record was clearly safe from me, but for a first attempt at this distance, I was really happy with myself. Sure, I could have run faster at times, and probably walked more than necessary in an effort to keep myself comfortable, but I still enjoyed myself out there. As my selective race amnesia erases all the bad memories (like the 20 trips to the porta-potties to deal with an uncooperative stomach) and leaves me only with the good ones, I am already starting to think about the next race even though I am still having to crawl up my stairs on my hands and knees.
