Keeping with that motto, my longest run going into SJ was 16
miles, but at least it was on the trails of Monte Sano. I also managed to get in several 14 mile runs
on the trails, so I was a lot better prepared than I had been going into Dizzy
Fifties last year. SJ would be my second
50k, and I wanted to finish it feeling like I had done a trail run, not a death
march. With that in mind, I went up to
Chattanooga the night before so that I could sleep in a little later the
morning of the race. I didn’t make it in
time for packet pickup, but I did see Daniel Lucas at the pre-race dinner and
he was very encouraging. I wanted to
hear all about Leadville, but he looked like he was kind of tired of talking
about it and I had read his blog, so I refrained from badgering him.
The morning of the race I had no pre-race jitters, because
I’m not a very good trail runner so there is no pressure – self imposed or
otherwise. Also, I literally did not
know anyone there, and including the 400 people doing the 11 miler and 600
people doing the 50k it was a huge race for a trail run. So I just drifted along, hearing snatches of
conversation, fascinated by all the different types and personalities that come
together at a trail run. Everybody
looked in really good shape. I do think
that in general, there is a higher percentage of sinewy no-body-fat badass
types at a trail run than any other event I have done, including ironman
distance races.
Finally it was time to go, and I started towards the end of
the pack. The first half mile or so was
on a road through the gorgeous campus of Signal Mountain Middle and High
School, then onto single track. It was
good to be forced to go whatever pace the person in front of or behind me was
going, although I could have passed in a few places as we trotted along a
gently rolling crushed gravel and then dirt trail the first 4-5 miles. Then came Mushroom Rock, and a twisty, rocky,
and at times steep descent to the aid station at Suck Creek (love that
name). I was feeling really good, maybe
thinking I should pick it up a bit. We
crossed a road and went up some steep stairs onto the next section of trails,
and a few moments later I experienced a sharp stinging pain in both my calves
at the same time. Yellow Jackets! I got stung 3 times rapidly in a row, cussed,
sprinted, and slapped at the nasty little bastards. The guy in front of me got stung as well, and
we commiserated for the next few miles about how much our stings were, well,
stinging. Then somewhere around mile 9 I
got stung AGAIN on my shin, and I was like, “Bloody hell! Am I wearing yellow jacket attractor or
something?” At which point a very nice
person behind me pointed out that yellow jackets are attracted to dark colors,
and since my Softwick compression socks were black….So I scrunched them down
around my ankles. My calves were
burning. I had big red welts in 4 places
on my lower legs. I was pissed. I made it to the aid station at Indian Rock
House around mile 10 still pretty pissed, and paranoid about yellow
jackets. And let me tell you, once you
start paying attention, they are frickin’ everywhere! My lovely run in the woods had become a
painful fearful slog in which I couldn’t even enjoy some awesome views of the
Tennessee River and surrounding mountains because I was too busy scanning my
legs for yellow jackets. But after a
while the burn of the stings lessened a bit (although for the rest of the run
the pain would come shooting back at odd times, making me think I was getting
stung again) and I got over my pissiness with nature (you go in the woods,
stuff happens, get over it) and I settled back into enjoying the day. And the good Samaritan who told me about the
socks must have been right, because I kept them scrunched down the rest of the
day and although I ran by a thousand more yellow jackets I didn’t get stung
anymore.
There were a couple of miles in the 12 to 18 mile range that
were pretty run-able, and after the steep declines and inclines that was a nice
change. I never could really get in a
rhythm, though, because just when I would start to settle in there would be a
rocky section. I don’t remember exactly
where the “rock garden” came, but it’s a long stretch of bouldering where a
klutz like myself couldn’t go very fast because the rocks are moss covered and
slippery and just looking to trap a foot or roll an ankle. Amazingly enough, I only fell once, during
one of the few stretches where the terrain was flat enough that I could run
without studying the ground, and sure enough I tripped on a root and spilled
headlong into a pile of leaves. Teach me
to try and look up while trail running. After
the rock garden my knees started hurting.
It made it hard to run after that.
Going up wasn’t the problem, it was coming down.
At Mullens Cove (around 20 miles) I got my drop bag and sat
for a minute to change socks (short ones.
I was still fearing yellow jackets and had to run back past the places I
had been stung). My knees felt better
after the brief rest, and I ran for a few miles until I got to the steep
downhill to the swinging bridge. That
fried them all over again. After that,
whenever I tried to run, it was a sad sort of shuffling gate that probably
looked a lot like a fat pug going for a walk.
When I got back to the Suck Creek aid station at mile 24.8, I got a
brief jolt of enthusiasm to learn my Garmin was off by a little more than a
mile. Only a 10k go! Climbing out of Suck Creek was much
preferable to going down, my poor knees were so sore. And I knew that once I got to Mushroom Rock
the truly heinous climbs were all over.
I really should have been able to run more of the last 4 miles, but I
couldn’t seem to get above that God awful shuffle so I gave up and walked a
lot. You could hear the PA system from
the finish line for most of the last 4 miles, but just when you would think you
were close the trail would turn away on another half mile loop in the opposite
direction. It was torture, especially
since by now it had gotten quite hot, even in the woods. But finally I emerged from the single track
and knew only ½ a mile or so to go, so I forced myself to at least jog on the
road into the finish. I was happy to
finish in 7:54ish; I had been hoping to do better but the steep downhills were
murder on my knees. Of the 600 who
started, only 343 made the 9 hour cut-off so it was a rough day for a lot of
people. I’m hoping that I will do better
at Dizzy this year since I will (hopefully) be in better shape for a long run,
and Dizzy won’t be so hard on my knees.
Stump Jump is a gorgeous course, I really wish I had been able to
appreciate it more instead of being so distracted by the yellow jackets – and
having to watch my feet to keep from rolling an ankle or going over the
edge! There was a lot of ridge running
that one wrong step would have sent you plummeting. There were also a lot of creek crossings,
gorgeous rock formations, caves…just an awesome and awe-inspiring course. Maybe someday I will go back and do it
justice. But I will wear white
compression socks!
Happy trails and triathlons everyone, and good luck at
Goosepond next week. I will be at my
family’s cabin in the NC Mountains, doing nothing more strenuous than getting
up for seconds of my Mother’s cooking!