The Great Debate: Kenyans, Ultras, and Who's the greatest?

-Geoffrey and Geoff, and their two big course records

I was asked the other day who had won the legendary Western States 100 miler. The same person also asked "was it a Kenyan?". I chuckled, and said "no, it was actually a Spaniard. Kenyans don't run ultramarathons." I've actually heard quite a few people assume that since Kenyans and Ethiopians are basically the fastest road runners in the world, that the same folks must be winning all the ultras. It often surprises my friends who don't have the "ultra inside scoop" that many of our races are won by north American runners, often with cool beards, long hair, and normal day jobs.

The main debate is that the best ultrarunners may not be faster than marathoners, but in a 50-100 mile race they would still win. Notice I'm not talking about 50k's because it's only 5 miles longer than a marathon(yes mountains would make it tougher). However, when Josh Cox set the 50k American record he simply ran a 2:18 marathon and tacked on 5 miles at a track to finish in 2:47. He recently went after the world record doing the same thing and came very close with a 2:43. No doubt impressive, but there are guys who could do it 10 minutes faster if the money was there. Ultimately, given the same training, I say the top marathoners crush our ultra elites Roes, Krupicka, and Jornet. Here's why.

The ultrarunner supporters believe that even the best ultra guys and gals would still beat the fastest road marathoners. Consider how Tony Krupicka, Hal Koerner, Geoff Roes, and others largely dominate road guys like Michael Wardian. Wardian, who btw wins plenty of ultras, is a 2:17 marathoner, but still loses by hours to the other guys if the race is 100 miles and in the mountains. I agree that guys who train 150+ mpw in the mountains will have a much better chance at outrunning a faster road runner who trains 120 mpw on roads. Mountain runners have bodies that are simply more conditioned to go the distance with varying elements (such as extreme weather and geography).Tough terrain and vertical climb are the first things to negate a marathoner's raw speed. The second thing is that nutrition is vital in longer races. Elite marathoners can subside off a dozen cups of water, but they are completely spent when they cross the finish. Tweeking their nutrition plan so they can learn how to consume substantial calories, would be the difference in sustaining their pace through an ultra distance. The transition from 26.2 miles to 50 to 100 is tough, and obviously not every elite marathoner's body is designed to do it. However, those that do would clean house.

The bottom line is that elite marathoners have fewer variables other than air temperature. They often have a predictable running surface, minimal elevation change, and minimal time for weather to change since they are done within a couple hours. Tony Krupicka's 2:40,Koerner's 2:35, and Scott Jurek's 2:38 marathon personal bests would get scorched on a marathoner's familiar turf. However, I believe that once the fastest marathoner's start training like ultrarunners (ie eating while running, running trails with lots of vert) they would start to crush our current level elites. So, why aren't Kenyan's and Ethiopians running ultras?

Money! Ultras are low revenue events that more than likely provide no prize money. The few races that do have a cash prize, like the North Face, still only give out $10,000 to the winner at their national championships. Unlike many Americans who enjoy the "luxury" of the income their jobs earn, many 3rd world athletes will compete where the most money is. The Boston Marathon dishes out $150k, NYC $130k, and Chicago $125k. They can't support their families off belt buckles and medals. Perhaps if our ultramarathon athletes were in the same situation, they'd be training for the big bucks, but that really hasn't been the attitude of ultrarunners. Ultrarunning has always been very low key, laid back, and out of the spotlight. Sometimes it can't help be anything but out of the lime light. Afterall, how could you ever televise a mountain ultra? Where on the trail would sponsors put their logos, other than on the athletes already competing? You can't generate money when trails and national parks limit entry fields to 300-400 runners, unlike the big city marathons where you have 30,000 people paying $120 a piece to run. Ultramarathons simply aren't designed to draw a lot of income(ok, maybe the JFK 50 miler for $195). Imagine a 50 miler through NYC, and finding a tv station that would want to cover at least 5.5 hours worth of running just to see the winner finish! Too big of an investment risk.

Now let's suppose, hypothetically, that The North Face, or Montrail ever got to the point of tossing out a $100,000 cash prize. You still might not get THE fastest folks who don't want to risk injury by training, or racing an ultra, but you'd definitely get many others. Historically, the top ultra runners have been between 2:35 and 2:45 marathon speed. Seven time Western States winner Scott Jurek had a personal best of 2:38 when he was dominating ultras in the early 2000's. I think ultras are drawing more crossover runners who can't quite be competetive in big city marathons, but can win at ultras. I'm talking about guys like Matt Woods, David Riddle, Michael Arnstein, Matt Carpenter, Max King, Michael Wardian, Uli Steidel, Todd Braje, and others who are capable of anything from 2:14 to 2:30 marathons. Plenty fast, but not enough to win against guys running sub 2:10. Uli, Carpenter, and King have the most speed in the group (all sub 2:15 PR's), and all have adapted their training to suite ultras. If they can win ultras doing this, of course even faster folks would also be winning. So, you can see the allure of going to ultras where you could at least make a run for some victories/cash. Even the women are raising the bar. You've got 2:49 marathoner Ellie Greenwood, 2:53 Kami Semick and Jenn Shelton, all the way to low 2:40's Devon Crosby Helms. Very fast, but even they couldn't hang with the elite women dropping 2:20's.

It sounds crazy, but I think if the money was there, you'd see course records fall left and right. Western States would go from 15:07 to sub 14:30, JFK would drop to 5:30ish, and we'd see a bunch of 100 mile course records drop by hours. Imagine someone like Haile Gebrselassie making a move at Western States and dropping a 5:30 mile into Forest Hills, or setting a 2:25 marathon split at American River en route to a 5:15 course record (27 minutes under Krupicka's 5:42)? It would be crazy, but very plausible. I could be wrong, but the only reason guys like Roes, Mackey, and Jornet are winning ultras is because the money hasn't drawn in the big dogs yet. Would I even want ultras to become some mega marketed machine? I think it would destroy the character of the sport and take away many of the little things that make ultras so endearing. Ultras have always been about an individual journey to push beyond, and a place where first and last place received the same reward when crossing the finish. Maybe a 2:03 marathoner would fall apart trying to run more than 40-50 miles? Maybe not? There's no doubt that elite marathoners have amazing mental toughness to maintain sub 5 minute miles for 26 miles. But, there's a grit and toughness that a rare few have(marathoner, or ultrarunner) that keeps them relentlessly moving forward after 60,70, and 90 miles. That being said, I would still be rooting for my fellow ultra guys/gals to prove that being the best long distance runners means more than just being fast.

Squaw Valley to Auburn: Final Thoughts

This will be my last post concerning anything Western States until December. The lottery drawing for the 2012 race will ultimately determine my future with WS, though it seems back to back selections are very unlikely. Last years selection odds were 12:1, and assuming next year has more applicants, it would project a 13:1, or more ratio. Thus, being selected two years in a row seems something of at least a 100:1 chance. However, since I was already selected once, I suppose I am now back in the 12:1 odds pool with everyone else again :-)

Final thoughts on my 2011 race

Pacing: I didn't wear a watch, and obviously it would have helped nudge me to hit certain time goals. Going "old school" without a pacer, or crew didn't seem to bother me either, though a motivator late in the race may not have been bad. WS is a well stocked course, and I never felt like I was lacking anything I needed running solo. The volunteers pretty much are like an adopted crew team, but for family and friends who want to support their runner being on a crew is probably very rewarding, needed, or not.

Nutrition: My weight was never down more than 4 lbs, or up 2 lbs. In fact, beyond mile 55 (Michigan Bluff), I was within 1 lb of my pre-race weight. Bottom line, even without a watch I kept very good track of my liquid and calorie intake.

Pre race "training": I only trained 40 mpw leading up to WS. I also had a handful of slow 20-30 mile runs, but nothing fast. It would have been nice to toss in a few quick 4:30-5 hour mountain 50k's for training. Ideally, I would have aimed for 80+mpw, topping out at 100, but it wasn't in the cards this spring. Trying to be balanced with work, social life, and other hobbies made it tough to really want to dedicate so much time to running. There's always a trade off.

Performance at WS: Obviously, finishing any 100 is something to be proud of. Like they say "there's no such thing as an easy 100". WS certainly isn't an easy 100. My biggest physical setback during the WS run was clearly the deterioration of my left quad starting at mile 38. In a big race like WS, it's really demoralizing to know you have 62 more miles to run on a bum leg. I would have liked to have at least made it to Forest Hills (mile 62) feeling relatively fresh, but that was cut short by about 22 miles. Lack of training volume is probably to blame, as my muscles simply were not conditioned enough for runs longer than 40-50 miles. There were significant amounts of the course beyond mile 62 I knew I could have run. My time of 25:26 reflects the fact I kinda "walked it in" after I knew sub 24 was gone. I really believe if I spent a dedicated, and strict 3 months training specifically for the WS course, that I could run in the 21-22 hour range. But, that's easier said than done.

Post Race Recovery: There are only two other races I was more sore after finishing: my first 100, and my first ultra. My left quad was the primary culprit of my post race limping. My right quad was barely sore, calves fine, and ZERO blisters. I lost one toenail because of a rock I kicked, but at least it wasn't due to blisters. Had a bit of a bruise on my right foot from lacing my shoes too tight. At first I thought I may have broken a metatarsel, but the bruising and swelling has gone down a lot since the race. It's kind of funny, but my feet never really hurt during the race, mostly afterwards. My left quad is also feeling much better, which is a good sign that the pain I felt during WS was just a strain, and not a serious injury. Don't get me wrong, it still hurt a ton during the race, and going faster simply wasn't an option.

That's all I got to say about Western States until the next lottery drawing. Wouldn't it be crazy if I got selected again! I'm hoping next June I can enjoy the coolness of Squaw Valley and chuckle to myself saying "didn't think I'd be back here so soon." I'm looking forward for another chance at a silver buckle. Like a true runner, there's always a goal on the next horizon :-)

Western States 100 Race Report: Will versus Skill

June 25th, 2011

I’ve run nearly 100 miles, but I’m not there yet. Placer High School is just one left turn away and I can already hear the announcer calling out the names. Soon my foot hits the red surface of the famed track where it all began 38 years ago. 25 hours and 26 minutes after the epic journey started, it all comes down to a 300 meter run around a small local track. The sight of not seeing a sub 24 hour time light up the finish clock surprisingly has no impact on the excitement I have. I am now joining the ranks of 7,200 other runners who have come before. Others like Gordy Ainsleigh, Ken “Cowman” Shirk, Ann Trason, Scott Jurek, Tim Tweitmeyer, and Jim King. Our times may have been different, but for the most part we came to Auburn by the same path, the Western States Trail.

Flashback to 25 hours and 27 minutes ago.

It is 5am and 40 degrees. Today is all about running Western States old school. Running it in a way that would make the founding fathers proud. I have no watch, no crew, no pacer, and I only carry water bottles. I use only 2 drops bags, which only contained shoes, socks, and a headlamp. I am joined by 400 other anxious runners gathered in wild anticipation of will take place over the next 15 to 30 hours of their life. We are of many different ages, ethnicities, nations, religious beliefs, professions, physical abilities, income levels, and political affiliations. But, on this special morning, we are united together in a humbling moment of solidarity. We all dream and hope to conquer the next 100.2 miles and arrive in Auburn, California. The stories among the crowd are countless, and regardless of the events that unfolded in so many unique ways, they all brought us to this same time and place…...Squaw Valley.

The 2011 Western States starts! It’s a frenzy of excitement and pure electricity. Less than a mile up the first 2,550 ft climb to Emigrant Pass, elevation 8,750 feet, I take my first glance behind. Within moments my eyes well up on the verge of tears of what I am experiencing. It's a trail of 250 runners snaking down the dusty road behind me, their star like stream of bobbing headlamps, and the orange glow of an awakening sunrise over east Lake Tahoe. If it weren’t for the sound of my breathing, I’d have guessed I was still in a dream, only an alarm clock away from reality. But, it WAS real, and this fraction of a point in time was merely a sample of what lay ahead for the next 25 hours.

Over one hour later, and half mile of vertical climb, I am only 4 miles in. The view of the Sierra Nevadas from Emigrant Pass is as breathtaking as the wind is sharp. The dirt road became snow, and then snow became ice. We drop off the northwest face of the mountain, and now it’s time for the real fun to begin. I experience 15 miles of precarious running over snowy “trails” and icy mountain sides. My body endures dozens of spills, awkward shifts in the calf deep snow, and even more body cracking falls onto the rigid ice. One false move and you’ll slide down the mountain, pull a muscle, or lose the trail. It’s way too early to risk any of those things. The snow keeps things interesting and is a fun distraction from the distance we are covering. Soon enough 15 miles are in the bag, and we have 20 more miles of re-routed course to do. The trail becomes more runnable and dry, and I find myself with the enjoyable company of Jill Perry, Scotty Mills, and Monica Ochs. The fellowship is welcome, but we are running our own races, and after several miles I am running alone again.

30 miles are done, and I am making good time. Not going fast, but not going slow. Wait, what’s this climb coming up? The climb up to Mosquito Ridge (mile 31) is exposed, long, and worst of all unexpected. The new course threw me an early curve and I hit my first low point of the race. I am feeling sleepy from a lack of calories, sweating heavy, and wondering how I let myself get so worn out so early. I arrive at the aid station 4 lbs down from my pre-race weight of 157.6 lbs. 6 hours and 7 minutes have passed. I need food, cold water, and shade. The runners continue coming in with the same haggard look. Doubts start creeping in. Can I bounce back strong after being so depleted so soon? I still have 69 more miles, and there are two very tough climbs coming soon. “Mike, shut up!”. I eat enough to feel full, get some much needed liquids, and like magic I leap out of my chair ready to wage war again!

Devils Thumb and Michigan Bluff are usually brutal climbs for the unprepared, but I welcome them. Around Dusty Corners(mile 38), I started feeling something was a little off with my left knee. The inner part of my lower quad was feeling sore, but only on flat surfaces. I had been saving my legs by running much of the harsh downhill gently, so I doubted it was from that. I eased up the pace, fueled myself well, and powered through the two notorious climbs where my knee felt fine going uphill. It is now mile 55, over half way done, and I feel fresh. However, my left knee area is giving me some major cause for concern. The pain is now getting sharp, my legs goes a bit limp on each stride, and there is now swelling. I consider pain killer, but I don’t want to “mask” the pain of a potential injury, nor do I want to risk nausea and other potential bad side effects.

I continue on in growing discomfort and fear my day is turning for the worse. If only my left leg felt as fresh as my right, then I could be running pretty much everything right now. I settle for a power hike, and when it’s tolerable I switch to a jog. I had hoped to breeze through the famous Forest Hills crew area triumphantly, but instead I walk the entire mile long road in. I rest, prep for the final third of the race, and contemplate my strategy. 13 hours and 56 minutes have clicked by. After nearly 20 minutes I painfully make my way out of Forest Hills. My left vastus medialis (lower quad) is absolutely throbbing now. A 24 hour finish is slipping away and the doubts creep back into my weak willed mind. Could I have had a chance at a 21-22 hour finish if my leg weren’t hurt? Was it my lack of training? Am I not fit enough to be here? Did I gain too much weight strength training? Did the snow and ice earlier beat me up too much? Once again, I snap out of it and clear my thoughts.

I arrive at mile 65 and the sun is setting. I turn on my headlamp, shuffle along, and now 70 miles are done. I can’t believe I am literally watching my sub 24 hour goal vanish into thin air. I traveled 3,000 miles for this chance, and I’m not letting it go without a fight. That’s when I cave in and accept the offer for Tylenol. Like a wish granted from a genie the pain is gone within minutes. Over the next 15 miles I push hard. Too hard. At mile 78 I arrive at the Rucky Chucky river crossing and a large exuberant crowd. I am energized, and best of all feeling like a rock star! It is 11:13pm, my weight is exactly the same as when I started, and the short seated ride across the river was a welcome break. Miles 80 and 85 come and go. The three Tylenol I’ve taken over the last several hours begins to wear off and the extent of the self inflicted damage becomes obvious. I pushed well beyond what my left quad should have done, and now I was paying the price. The big effort put me back on sub 24 hour pace again, but it was too little too late. By mile 90 it was quite clear my body, even pain free, would not be able to cover the rocky terrain fast enough to break 24 hours. The quest for sub 24 is done, and I am okay with it. Why push hard, and risk becoming the first person to not break 24 hours? 24:15, 24:20, 24:30? None are worth the beating without the silver lining, which in this case is a buckle of the same color.

I have run 93.5 miles. I turn off my headlamp in the chilly night and soak in the pure darkness of the trail. There is a crescent moon gently hanging overhead, and the clearest blanket of stars you’ll ever see. The air is cool, clear, and pure. I take a deep breath, and look above to the Milky Way wrapping itself around the night sky from horizon to horizon. I could stay in this moment forever, but I have a finish line to get to.

The night time gives way to yet another warm glow of another sunrise. For some it is a blessed sign of a new day and a new push towards that finish, but for others it is a haunting reminder that precious time is running out. I trudge along past No Hands Bridge, then Robie Point. From here it is a mere 1.3 miles to Placer High School, and the finish!

25 hours and 26 minutes. 100.2 miles. One belt buckle. One runner. The journey is complete.

Western States is a race that was an honor to be a part of. The VOLUNTEERS absolutely make this race worth it. Every time I came into an aid station they treated myself and others as if we were the most important person in the race. Their goal was truly to get everyone to the finish. The history is unparalleled, and the organization first class. It was a once in a lifetime experience, but a once in a lifetime experience I will be trying to do again, and again, and again. 2011 will go down as the year I ran my 60th ultramarathon, but also as the year I completed my first Western States 100. If you asked the average person what a Cougar belt buckle is worth, they would say a few bucks. If you ask a runner at Placer Field how much a Cougar belt buckle is worth, they would say "Everything!".


Run strong friends,

Mike Bailey, 60 ultra finishes at age 30 years 5 days.

Are you an Ultrarunner, or are you Normal?

Ultrarunners are without a doubt "unique people". Let's be honest, most work normal day jobs as a cover for the fact they are a few fries short of a Happy Meal. Many have come to me and asked,"Am I crazy for wanting to run 100 miles, suffer sleep deprivation, and bodily harm, just to get a buckle?". My answer is yes. You are a weirdo. Welcome to the family!

However, sometimes it's not as easy to determine if you are normal, or an ultrarunner. It is universally known that one cannot be both, at least not at the same time. I've written this to help you out a bit. I've come up with some phrases, or ideas, and then I've determined what a normal person would think, and what a looney ultramarathoner would think. By the end of reading this, you should have a clear diagnosis. I will warn you that the very fact you found this blog about ultrarunning is a sad indicator that you are already profoundly leaning in the direction of NOT normal.

1. Using marathons as long training runs

Ultrarunner: thinks this is a normal, albeit expensive way to train. It mixes things up, and it's easy because it'll likely be flat, and you'll see a lot of friends doing the same.

Normal person: I've run for years doing 5k's and 10k's, and thought that was an accomplishment. I dream about running a marathon one day, but, 26.2 miles is still ridiculously far.

2. Gear consisting of GU's, hand bottles, hydration packs, salt tablets, compression socks, specialty clothing, trail shoes, hats, flasks....

Ultrarunner: business as usual. Got it all already!

Normal person: Are you running in the Sahara or something? Aren't flasks the fashionable way to carry alcohol? What the heck are those white powdery pills, and one ounce packets of slime?

3. Running 50-100 miles is normal

Ultrarunner: that's not too shabby, but I'd really like to do one of the longer races like Badwater, or Spartathlon.

Normal person: I don't even like to drive that far. That's why they made cars (I believe every ultrarunner has heard these at least once).

4. I run 100 miles to get a fancy buckle

Ultraunner: totally worth every blister, shut down kidney, and hyponatremia.

Normal person: dude, you can buy nice buckles at a store...and what the heck is hypnatremia?

5. I do hill repeats...

Ultrarunner: ...so I can be better prepared for the 4500 ft climb up Hope Pass at Leadville

Normal person: ....so I can be better prepared for the 200 ft climb up heart break hill at Boston. Better yet, I'll just run somewhere flat and not worry about hills.

6. Running a 5k

Ultrarunner: not worth an entry fee. Who needs another race t-shirt anyway?

Normal person: wow, 3.1 miles kicked my butt. I also got a cool shirt and the money went to a good cause.

7. Fat Asses

Ultrarunner: I have the inside scoop on these fun, aided, FREE, club events. It's a nice social way of getting in my little 50k, or 50 mile training run. Plus, who needs awards and more shirts?

Normal person: It's not nice to call people fat....Oh, it's the name of a run? If I'm gonna run 30-50 miles, I'd kinda like something to show for it :-/...but, I would NEVER run that stupidly far!

8. Marathon medals

Ultrarunner: they make good paper weights and coasters for the coffee table.

Normal person: If only I could find the way to earn just ONE!

9. 10 minute miles

Ultrarunner: I'd die to average a ten minute mile for an ultra!

Normal person: not bad for a few miles

10. Peeing infront of others

Ultrarunner: Not just peeing, but pooping, farting, snot rockets, chaffing, vomiting, bleeding, sweating....Let's face it, we display just about every bodily fluid and function on the trails.

Normal person: find a porter potty, or public bathroom. Geez, that's gross.

11. Western States, Badwater, JFK, Hardrock,...

Ultrarunner: Those are some big time races that I've either done, or like to do

Normal person: aren't those the name of a hospital, the description of drain water, an assasinated president, and a type of music?

12. Extreme conditions

Ultrarunner: 130 degrees in Death Valley, or -60 in the Antarctic

Normal person: the winter and the summer


Well....What's the consensus? Are you normal, or are you an ultrarunner? :-)

Hope this helped!
-Mike

2010 Year in Review

2010 Was a fun year. The first several races of 2010 were more, or less training runs where I did not race. A lot of it was build up for the Old Dominion 100. The highlight of my year was ironically also the lowlight. My DNF at the Leadville 100 was obviously disappointing, but at the same time I would never trade in the memories of my unforgetable week in Colorado.

I hoped to cap off 2010 by being competetive at the Hellgate 100k, but my brain had kind of checked out of running for the year after the JFK 50. Honestly, I pushed myself hard this year, and my body needed the rest. I've run over 3,000 miles this year, a goal I had set out to achieve on January 1, 2010. This past year I became a sponsored runner for the Sole Source and continued my partnership as a 2nd year member of the Brooks Inspire Daily group.

Highlights from 2010

Promise Land 50k- 5:51, big PR on a day I didn't "race". Will aim for sub 5:30 next year if I run.

Capon Valley 50k- 4:48, would have been another top 10, had I not gotten lost. Still, this run reminded me how I can do relatively well even when I run 2 miles further than everyone else.

Old Dominion 100- 21:52, 9th place (was 4th through 100k). Good to PR on a super hot day and tough course.

Skyline Challenge 50k- 5:16, 3rd place, only 5 weeks after 100 miler

Great Eastern Endurance Run 50k- 4:55, 3rd place

JFK 50 Miler- 7:35, 63rd out of 1038. New 50 mile PR (previously 7:57)

Another Autumn in Boonsboro- JFK 50...again!

For five of the last six years I have found myself in southern Maryland at the start of the JFK 50 miler. Although I dislike the actual race course, there's a clear emotional connection that I will admittedly always have of the JFK 50. It's been a constant in a life that has been inconsistent and it always brings me back to that chilled fall morning of 2004 when I toed the line of the first race I had ever run.

Most years there's an anticipation months and weeks before JFK, but this year I hardly gave the race a second thought. In truth, I really had no desire to be running that weekend, or running JFK for that matter. Still, I made the all too familiar trip to Boonsboro, packed my race items in about 10 minutes, and wound up at the starting line for the fifth time.

The race summary is short. The weather was perfect all day with morning temps in the high 30's and rising to nearly 60 by noon. I ran conservative in the early miles and made up time on the Appalachian Trail. I was the 124th runner entering the trails at mile 2.5. I entered Gathland at mile 9.3 with ultra phenom Jill Perry, and had a chance to talk briefly with her which was really cool. By the time I arrived at Weverton Cliffs I had moved up a drastic 50 spots by mile 15.5. I suppose all my trail running has it's advantages, right?

However, the C&O Canal towpath is what makes or breaks your race. If you go out too hard in the mountains you will fizzle out on the towpath. JFK is a notoriously good course for fast marathoners as it is mostly flat from miles 16-42, and then becomes rolling paved roads for the final 8 miles. My goal was to complete the 26.3 mile "towpath marathon" in under four hours. In fact, I managed a respectable 3:49 split for the first 26.2 miles of JFK, and exceeded my goals by running the towpath in 3:50. There's not much to explain about the towpath other than it is flat, sometimes scenic, and often monotonous. It's really mostly a mental game to keep your legs moving. Other than the time at aid stations, I was fairly pleased to be running 8:00-8:30 miles most of the day.

The monotony was also broken up by running with Dave Miller, a fast marathoner, from the Reston Runners, and the goal of chasing down my buddy James Brennan. James was on my 5 person team, and all day he had been about 2-3 minutes ahead of me at the aid stations (James rocked it and finished in 7:24). As the miles clicked away I ended up setting a 50k PR of 4:30, and was pleasantly surprised to have a lot of gas in the tank beyond 35 and 40 miles. A regular schedule of a gel, salt, and soda every 20-30 minutes worked wonders on my energy levels, and I never once felt tired, sleepy, or cramped. The fatigue of literally running non stop for 42 miles really hit once I got off the towpath and back on to paved roads. This was a challenge, and my paced dropped considerably trying to run small hills and into a pretty solid head wind.

The last 8 miles of JFK are always tough. I ended up walking about a half dozen short climbs, but ran everything else. In the end I ran up to the finish line and was pleased to be done in 7 hours and 35 minutes. 62nd overall out of 1100 starters and 1014 finishers. As JFK has become an extremely competitive event, the times are only getting faster and faster. It was a 20 minute personal best in the 50 mile distance, and a 57 minute personal best at JFK. It was a day that I felt couldn't have gone too much better, and it was an encouraging reminder of how far I have come since my first JFK in 2004. Six years ago I finished this race in 10:39. I would have never guessed that half a decade later I would complete the same event three hours faster.

Much thanks to the Reston Runners support crew, and the Jim Team. Ultramarathon number 55 is in the books!

Great Eastern Endurance Run 50k

Saturday September 25th, 2010

It had been 4 years since I ran the GEER 50k hosted by the Charlottesville Running Company. I wanted to return to beautiful Sherando Lake and run some of my favorite local trails. There were some significant changes to the 50k course in 2007 so that it ran entirely different trails than the course I ran in '05 and '06. In fact, the course was very similar to the Bel Monte 50k course that is hosted by the same folks.

The race started at 6am. I was wearing a sleaveless flannel shirt and my Hawaiian boardshorts. One could say this was hardly the appropriate attire for such a race, but it reminded me not to take things too seriously. There were two races, a 50k and 100k, that had the same start and used the same trails until the 100k folks detoured at mile 22. At 6am it was still dark, so I had to use a headlamp. Myself and Sean Andrish broke away early to lead the runners down the dark road through the Sherando Lake recreation area. The lead 100k runners, Harland Peelle, and Eric Grossman were right on our heals as we made our way to the first section of single track.

Sean's pace was too fast for my comfort level and I backed off. My headlamp was also very low on battery power (I had not swapped fresh batteries since the Old Dominion 100 in June). With poor visibility I found myself stumbling over rocks and roots, as well as urging other runners to pass. It was around this time I followed Eric Grossman down what seemed like a very rocky trail. It didn't feel right, and behind us I saw headlamps continuing up the trail we missed. It turns out Eric mistook a dried out creek bed for the trail. No worries, but we did get passed by about 5 runners (a couple 50k guys, and a couple 100k).

I hit the first aid station at around sunrise(6:48am) and ditched the headlamp. I was thrilled to have full visibility of the trail, and have a beautiful sunrise to accompany it. However, I was already soaked with sweat, and it looked like it was going to be a warm day. Things were pretty mediocre early on. I ran well,felt good, wasn't getting passed, but I wasn't passing anyone either. I made sure to run well on the 2.5 mile section of the Blue Ridge Parkway, and was running what felt like 6:20-6:30 miles down the steep 3 mile gravel road to the Priest Vista aid station. This out and back would be the first place I could see runners, and figure out where exactly I stood in the race.

About a half mile from the aid station the first place 50k runner comes flying UP the mountain. Basically, I knew right then that I was not going to contend for the win. I was partially suprised Sean Andrish was not leading, but more surprised how far ahead the two 100k leaders were ahead of me. When I finally arrived at the aid station I was the 5th 50k runner, and there was no sign of Sean. Was he hurt? Did he miss a turn? On my way back up the mountain I finally saw Sean, and it turned out he had run several miles off course. At the top of the climb, returning back to the Blue Ridge Parkway I was passed by two more 100k runners. I thought to myself "Am I going that slow that these guys are doing my 50k pace for their 100k?". Afterall, these runners were going twice as far as me...and they were passing me!

That self monologue was enough for me to speed up and not only pass the 100k runners, but the two 50k runners ahead of me. By the time I reached the next aid station there wasn't a runner in sight behind me. However, it was still early and the temps were rising. On the big climb up to the Slacks Overlook (mile 19) I was starting to get gassed. My muscles were getting tight, and I found myself stopping to stretch more often than I would have liked. I had only eaten two gels, and a handful of M&M's, and a bonk seemed like it was looming around the corner. I popped two gels, a few S caps, ran the moderate climb to Torry Ridge, and held on for another grunt to the highest part of the course, Bald Mountain. It was here the 1st place 50k runner passed me on the second out and back of the course. Needless to say, he had about a 3 mile lead, and there was no way anyone was catching him. In the meantime my energy levels were going south, but I had yet to see the 2nd place runner. A minute from the Bald Mountain Aid station I see second place, and then I see nobody else, which meant I was in 3rd.

Knowing I was in 3rd charged me up pretty good. I took more salt, and another couple gels to get me through the rest of the race. From here I had 7 miles of downhill trails, followed by a flat paved mile to the finish. The 4th and 5th place runners were about 10 minutes back, and I knew I could hold them off as long as I didn't do anything stupid. The return route was blazing fast, and I was able to safely pass runners coming towards me. I was feeling good, and on the road to the finish I glanced over my shoulder one last time and not a single runner was in sight. I crossed the finish in 4:55, a 1 hour and 34 minute PR for the GEER course. 3rd Overall. I was only a minute behind 2nd place, and the winner cruised in one of the fastest GEER times ever of 4:16.

The first time I ran the GEER 50k in 2005 I ran a very respectable 6:45. The following year I came back and ran a 6:29. I had always been impressed with the runners who came in under six hours, and was simply in awe of the guys who could break the five hour mark. I believe the course might be faster than some of the older GEER 50k courses. Therefor, I can't compare my 4:55 with a time from previous years where it would have been close to a winning time. However, many folks who completed GEER will no doubt consider it one of the tougher 50k's in the area and deserve a big congrats on finishing a tough trail race. After my finish, I stayed and watched the remaining 50k finishers come in. It was inspiring watching so many men and women testing their limits for 7-10 hours and still finish with smiles.