Milkshake at the Marine Corps Marathon

For the 2008 Marine Corps Marathon I dressed up in a Milkshake costume. That's correct, a cup, a lid, and even a straw. The whole shabang! Now why on earth would a person choose to do this you ask? Well, I obviously have no problem with looking like an idiot now and then. I had run the Baltimore Marathon two weeks earlier with my friend Kelly Noonan. We had planned to run Marine Corps together at roughly a 4:15-4:30 pace. Kelly was running as a training run for the JFK 50 miler, and I was gonna go slow to taper for a big 50+ mile trail race the following weekend. Given the slow pace, I figured I could have a little fun and wear a costume during the marathon. I knew it would be different, and it would make things entertaining for the other runners and crowds. So, the night before Marine Corps, there I was at the local costume shop. Milkshake in hand. The hot dog costumes were all sold out, and I really wanted to be a food item of some sort.

Upon meeting the other Reston Runners before the race I decide to reveal my plans. Some folks had no reaction, some laughed their butts off, others probably thought it was just plain stupid. At 7:30 a.m I strap on the costume, and wonder if I can really make it 26.2 miles in this thing. The costume was not very heavy, but it was pretty much a big wind sail. It was made of cheap fabric with no ventilation, and a very unbreathable head piece. With temperatures rising to the mid 60s, I knew hydration was going to be VERY important, as I would be sweating twice as much as normal, with no airflow.

BOOM! At 8am, the starting cannon goes off. Me, Kelly N, Ellen M, and Donna R all pass through start line about a minute after the gun. Cluttered crowds kept the first quarter mile very slow. A person in a Teddy Roosevelt costume was the only other dressed up runner I saw. The "Teddy R" costume was about 8 feet tall, and weighed 40 lbs. I don't know how the guy did it, but I read that he finished the marathon in 6:26. Wow. Anyway, me and Kelly ran together at about 9:15 pace the first few miles. Pretty soon, Kelly was nowhere in sight. With 18,000 marathon runners, I had no chance of finding her. For the next 4-5 miles I ran with Ellen Mannion and Donna Rostant. We were all running about 8:30-9:00 pace. Not too long, I lost sight of both Ellen and Donna, assuming they ran ahead. I decided to try to "catch up" but never saw them again.

All by myself I decided to really have some fun. The streets were literally lined by hundreds, maybe thousands, of fans cheering the runners on. My Milkshake costume was a hit, although I had to explain that it was not a chicken, duck, or Spongebob. Soon I was being greeted by rows of fans sticking their hands out for high fives. I would run by the crowds and yell "I can't hear you, Make some noise!" Seconds later the crowds would burst into loud cheers. I also encouraged the crowds to "get loud for the other runners", and to get ready because "It's milkshake time!" I soaked it all in as much as I could. It was a phenomenal feeling to connect with the onlookers, and be able to make folks smile at my stupidness.

Before I knew it, my 8:30 pace dropped to a 7:00 pace. I must have really been moving through those busy street sections. A milkshake running 7:00 minute miles? At first the crowds loved the sheer silliness of my costume, but later in the day I think they began to appreciate how tough it must have been in that sweltering outfit. But, I kept smiling, and kept running at an oddly brisk pace for someone in a full costume. The entire day continued to be a big party for me. I never tired of waving and smiling to everyone, posing for pictures, and giving kids big high fives. Other runners even thanked me for making the marathon more entertaining for them. Other runners who were struggling in the late miles, managed to squeak a smile at the sight of my milkshake body. That alone made the whole gimmick worthwhile.

At 25 miles I was told that I was on pace to break 3:30. I had no time goal for the marathon, but thought a sub 3:30 would be kinda cool. I just needed to run 1.2 miles in 8:30. I pushed hard down the final flat, and then steep uphill to the finish. The same crowds that had lined the streets earlier must have moved to the finish, and I received a boisterous ovation from everyone. I was still grinning, still giving high fives, and still waving as I crossed the finish in 3:30:45 -- chip time 3:29:39

The Massanutten Trail Ring

Background of The Ring

For those who don't know, the Massanutten Trail is a 71.1 loop trail in the Shenandoah Valley. It travels 35 miles south, and then returns 36 miles back north. Most hikers will break up the trail into a 4-6 day The trail contains some of the steepest climbs, and possibly the rockiest surface of any race in the US. In 2002 a couple members of the Virginia Happy Trails Running Club decided that this set up was perfect for a race. The race was aptly named The Ring for the fact that the trail and mountains create a geographic ring around Fort Valley. There is a 100 mile race called Massanutten Mountain Trails that covers much of this trail, however in The Ring, all easy sections have been removed, and a few tougher climbs added.

I will not lie. This race will test your manhood, and it will take it from you. But, only if you let it. Few people sign up to run the Ring every year, and even fewer people finish it.

Unlike "normal" races this event is a Fat Ass style run. That means you don't pay to enter, the aid you do receive will be limited, no silly t-shirts, no medals, no buckles, and no prizes. This run is simply about being up to the task of finishing. It's all about your personal goals, and no fanfare. The first and last finishers get the same amount of nothing. Just a huge sense of personal achievement, which is priceless.

The 2008 Ring Race Report

7:00am- The race begins. It is an overcast and humid morning of September 6th. Hurricane Hanna has moved up the east coast, and threatens to drop massive amounts of rain on the mid-atlantic states today. It's about 70 degrees outside, and the rain is starting to come down.

Of the 26 runners signed up, a couple decide not to show because of the looming forcast. Still, 24 runners are ready to tackle one of the toughest races east of the Rockies.

Start to 13 miles: The trails are pretty tame so far. Only a few climbs, and very runnable surface. With only one aid station in the first 25 miles, the biggest challenge is carrying all your food and water. With a 70 ounce camel back, 20 oz hand bottle, and food, I was lugging about 8 lbs on my back. Not alot if your hiking, but it took a little getting used to at running speed.

Rain and Wind- it rained for about four hours between 8am-12noon. I recall pretty heavy rain and wind on the ridge tops around 10am. This was about as bad as the weather got, which wasn't nearly the all day drenching we expected. For the most part the rain kept temperatures cool, and the wind didn't effect too much aside from knocking some trees onto the trail. I figured I'd be running in wet clothes and shoes for most of the race, so it didn't bother me at all. The 1.5 inches of rain did create many puddles, and some slippery trails. Think wet leaves on wet loose rocks. A good recipe for disaster.

13-25 miles: I ran this section pretty fast, although I took a wrong turn and ended up running a half mile further than everyone else. I had wondered how other guys had caught up, when I had tried to push the pace. I was 3rd overall into the first aid station at 25 miles, with a group of three just seconds behind. At about 25 miles in, the weather cleared up and remained nice for the rest of the day.

34 miles and Waterfall mountain: This is where the fun really begins. The first 50k are like any other trail race. Some of the rocks are hard to run on, but no there are no really tough climbs. Waterfall mountain changes all that. 900 feet of vertical climb in 0.6 miles makes this one of the steepest climbs anywhere. My heart rate redlined on this section, as it probably took every bit of 20 minutes to do on fresh legs. About 2/3 of the way up, the trail flattens, and you think you're done. No. You still have a few hundred more feet to go. This part will either make you cry for mommy, or laugh to keep from crying. I mostly thought " holy crap, you've got to be kidding me?" It never seemed to end, but ironically it is a pretty short climb, just steep as hell.

When you finally finish climbing lovely Waterfall mountain, you are only halfway done! Some folks tend to drop out of the race at this point, since they realize it is no longer fun. The next 36 miles are tougher than the first 35, and that just doesn't sit well with some people. The truth is you have 5 more peaks to summit, which is around 7,000 more feet of climbing. The downhills also really suck after a while too. Oh, and the sun is going to set soon, so you get to do it all in the dark.

35-40 Miles: I jog into the 35 mile aid station at Crisman Hollow rd. Until now I've been breezing through the aid station in a couple minutes. I decide to take about 10-12 minutes to sit down and take some weight of my feet for a bit. I change socks, eventhough my shoes are still soaked. I'making sure to take in alot of calories at the aid stations from here on out. Next I get to climb Short Mountain, which is not short. The trails along this ridge are runnable, but after rolling my ankle 101 times on the previous ridge, I decide to go slow. The frustrating part of this run is that even on the flat sections, you still can't go fast. You want to run, but it won't help by trying. It took me about 2.5 hours to cover each 8 mile section between aid stations. You really don't realize why it takes people that long until you actually do it yourself.

48-56miles: The night time settled in. I turn on my headlamp, which helps, but I still can't spot every rock out there. My biggest fear at night is that I will take the wrong trail and end up in the middle of nowhere. From here to the finish I will spend 8 more hours in the middle of the mountains alone. By now a couple moren runners drop, and some decide they don't want to run in the dark. As far as the trails, it was actually easier to do the climbs at night since you couldn't really tell how steep the trail was, or how much further you had to go. I decided to have my mp3 player on to prevent me from feeling too isolated. The back side of the mountain was very still. No wind, no noise, no views. Only, thorns and some ghetto looking trail. Upon reaching the ridgeline, I was greeted by what looked like Christmas lights. It was lights from the valley, glittering hues of gold and yellow. It was a pleasant sight, and rather enchanting in the cool night. Above me was a crescent moon and the clearest night sky I have seen in some time.

56-62.5 miles:I arrive at the Woodstock Tower aid station. As I looked at my watch, I noticed that the miles seemed to feel longer and longer. I kept saying to myself "it seems like the next aid station should be getting close?". More and more darkness. More rocks, more thorns, more climbing. It was around 56 miles into the race I started getting sore. My left ankle was starting to swell from rubbing against my shoes. My quads were still good, but my hip flexors were pretty stiff from the climbs. This made lifting my legs kinda tough. I actually had no blisters. Very surprising considering the rocky course, and wet feet. I honestly did not feel like going back out into the dark for another 6 hours. However, I made it this far, and I really wanted to tackle the Ring.

62.5 miles and Signal Knob- leaving the final aid at 63 miles I felt very sore and beat up. I knew that I would have another whole mountain to climb, and a brutal descent down. 8.6 more miles meant atleast 3 hours at my current pace. Gotta keep slugging at it. The climb up to Signal Knob is actually on a fire road. It starts at a rather pedestrian grade, but then decides to kick it up a notch as you near the summit. The last half mile or so are rather steep, but then again it was hard to tell at 2am in the morning. At the summit I took a moment to take in the view of the valley. I turned off my headlamp to soak in the natural ambience. Again, it seemed magical. Thousands of golden lights. For a second you could almost forget the 66 miles it took to get you to that point. But, that's the last enjoyable moment of the race.......

66.6 miles to the Finish- yes 66.6 miles is the exact point where the hellish decent down Signal Knob begins. Coincidence with the numbers? I think not. After the beautiful overlook, the trails decides to become a bunch of jagged rocks again. And then the rocks get bigger,more jagged, and more loose. Lets be honest, almost everyone's feet hurt like heck at this point, and these rocks add insult to injury. The trail is not steep, but it taunts you. I wondered "why the hell did they make THIS part of the official trail?". It wouldn't be fun to even hike on. It was like someone took a truck full of big stupid rocks and decided to dump then directly on the trail. I managed a very entertaining balancing act, trying not to snap an ankle for fall on my face. Every time you thought the trail was clearing up into something managable, it was like....nope,not yet, we still got a few more miles of these rocks you need to do. It felt like it would never end, it was so monotonous. Finally, the trail eased up for the last dowhill mile or so. On this last mile, I strongly debated if I actually enjoyed the race. That notorious final 5 miles, which is heavily documented in the lore of Ring runners, lived up to the hype. Although probably not that bad by itself, it does suck a bit after 67 miles.

71.1 Miles- 4:45 am. technically 72 miles for me since I strayed off the trail several times.

....Well, I must say that I am proud to be the 56th person inducted to the "Fellowship of The Ring". I am also one of the youngest runners to finish, and had a very respectable finish time of 21 hours 45 minutes. This was easily the toughest run I have completed to date. Technically much harder than my 100 mile finish. A day after the run I feel pretty good. The ankle is still a little tender, no blisters, some sore hip flexors, and stiff quads. Going up and down steps isn't quite a cake walk yet, but noticebly better than yesterday. The Ring is everything I hoped it would be. The Ring is a memorable run, a physical test, very mentally challenging, and as rewarding as they get. Great volunteers, event coordinators, and fond new memories.

Mike Bailey- The Ring, inductee Class of 2008

2007 Umstead 100 miler race report

     Okay, so this is for last year. I had wanted to run the 2008 Umstead, but it filled up very quickly. I will try again in 2009. Here is my race report from 2007.

      The Umstead 100 miler is my first crack at the 100 mile distance. I've had IT band problems all winter, which hurt my training and almost prevented me from running this event. 

Morning/Start

      Anyway, I got about an hour of sleep the night before the race. Yikes!.I don't remember what I had for breakfast, but I do remember thinking it would be about 35 degrees. It wasn't. At 6:00 am the 259 runners clumped together at the start, and trotted off into the dark. The course consists of eight 12.5 mile loops, with a subtle 8,000 ft of total gain over 100 miles. The elites were way out in front from the start. I fought off temptation to run faster, and run with others also going too fast. I decide to play it smart. The first 25 miles were smooth and easy. There are about six miles on each loop that are surprisingly hilly. Later in the race, I would hate these hills. 

Halfway point

     The day got quite warm. Temperatures would creep into the mid 70's, which feels like 80 when you're running. I slowed things down, and decided I would pick up the pace when it got cooler. My goal was to break 24 hours, so I ran with some folks who were also on that pace. I didn't know what a 24 hour pace felt like. I soon ran ahead of these runners and wondered if I was making a mistake. I was joined by my pacer Dave Snipes at 50 miles. I clocked into the halfway point in 9:43.  Blisters were starting to show up on the balls of my feet. It felt like my skin was sliding off the bone. At the 100k mark, I had my blisters wrapped, changed shoes, and changed socks. My feet looked pretty crummy.

The Night Time

     The 259 starters were now down to about 220. The afternoon heat caused a number of 100 mile runners to drop to 50 miles. A couple elite runners fell victim as well. The night time offered some coolness. The full moon meant we could run without headlamps in some areas. Runners were getting more spread out, much less chatty, and you could tell fatigue was setting in. I felt strong thought. As I crossed 70 miles, I knew I was in uncharted territory for distance. I was still on a good pace to break 24 hours. My blisters were really feeling raw, and some little aches and pains from earlier were becoming much more present. 

Early AM

    87.5 miles-I was getting tired, but it was more a sleepy feeling. I hadn't been up this late in a long time. My laps were getting pretty slow, but I never felt out of it. I still looked pretty strong. I pulled into the aid station, and knew that I had just 1 more loop to go. 24 hours was in the bag! This was a victory lap, although not a fast one. 

The Finish!

     About 1 mile from the finish my pacer left me. He wanted me to run to the finish on my own. Run I did. I would have never thought I'd still be running after 99 miles. Adrenaline was on full blast. No pain. I sprinted to the finish in 22 hours and 47 minutes. I announced to the crowd that it was my first 100 miler. A big moment came a few minutes later when I was presented with my "100 Miles, 1 day" silver buckle. It was surreal. It was a lifelong goal of mine to earn a coveted silver buckle for running 100 miles in a day. I had done it in my first try. Of course with the help of a great pacer/friend(Dave Snipes), and wonderful volunteers. Physically I felt amazingly good, but I knew the true post race pain would come in a few hours. It did. 

The Future

     I will definitely run other 100 mile events. 50ks and 50 milers are great, but there is something special about a 100 mile event. You must train for it. You must commit to every inch of the race. There's no getting lucky, and no easy way to finish. Aka the quote" there is no such thing as an easy 100 miler". The distance makes it tough. You will be stripped of your pride. Your pride will be replaced with something purer. Respect for running. 

    I will be running my first 24 hour ultra in 2008

     

2004 JFK 50 miler: My first race

2004 JFK 50 miler( Boonesboro, MD)

On November 22nd, 2004 I toed the start at a very unlikely race. Who tries to run 50 miles, when they've never even run a 5k? The answer...me. My training comprised of 25 miles a week, with 6 mile "long runs". Before the race, I felt a bit like Dorothy in the land of Oz. I felt really out of place surrounded by all these fast looking runners. Who was I kidding? I was no runner. I was a poser just trying not to die. Surprisingly, the race began pretty good. I learned to walk the hills, run the flats. I carried no food or hand bottles(mistake #1). I thought I would run 9 minute miles the entire time(mistake #2). I wore cotton everything, and wore $40 shoes(mistakes 3 and 4).

The morning is cold, about 32 degrees. The starting gun fires, and the 1,000 runners clustered on the small town streets get on their way. Through the first stretch into the mountains my running is good. I think I was still running on pure adrenaline and excitement at this point. My pace felt good for the first 15 miles. I was pretty surprised I was keeping it up considering I had never run anywhere close to this far (ie. 6 miles). At 19 miles I hit the wall. Around that time I figured I was in over my head. I thought about quitting for a little while. I mean 20 miles was still more than I ever imagined doing, but I didn't come here not to finish. Pretty soon my running turned to walking, and my walking became slower. Hey, only 31 more miles. I tried to jog, but wouldn't get very far before wanting to walk again. It was on and off for the rest of the day.

At 27 miles my spirits were still high, and I was able to joke around with other people. By 38 miles I was pretty much done. We entered the final 8.2 mile road section of the race which felt miserable on my feet. A cold rain began falling, and the night was coming. I just wanted to go home, take a hot shower, and sleep. By 44 miles I was in pure misery. I had to keep going.

How did I drag myself to the finish? Motivation. I was motivated to finish for my grandmother who was fighting cancer at the time. I wanted to tell her that I was thinking of her, and that she was the one who kept me pushing through the pain. I'm stubborn, and I wanted to prove to everyone who didn't think I'd finish that they were wrong. In the end I DID finish. 10 hours and 39 minutes in the cold November night, I crossed the finish line. All I had ever wanted to do was finish one marathon in my life time. 26.2 miles? No, but how about 50! One of the best memories, and feelings of achievement I have ever had. Nov 20, 2004 (5:39pm)- ultrarunner Mike Bailey is born