Chattooga 50k Race Report

Chattooga had been relatively kind to me in the past. It had allowed a freedom of steps and relatively decent weather... this year, things were different.

Toeing the line I was not thinking about the "normal" things... like:

• Finish.
• Enjoy
• Slow down
• Don't "race"

Instead I had a lot of 5k/10k thoughts in my head... like:

• Get out easy and under control
• Don't get boxed in on the single track
• Find a strong rhythm
• Where is everyone? Where is everyone? Where is everyone?

The underlying difference here was a haze of race stress and not an organic experience which culminates from a journey of steps- the essence of running. Even while I thought I was running smart and free it is clear now that I was not. Instead I fell into the trap of my expectations, rushed through the moments and ultimately wasted an opportunity in a beautiful place with amazing people. Not to say that the time wasn't worthwhile, it always is and this 'race report' will cover some of the reasons why this failure is important.

What happened?

This is the question that buzzed in my head for the following two nights... I had run 'well' (on pace for Winding Stairs) and PB'd the first 10 mile section to arrive at 17 miles 10 minutes under CR pace... while feeling pretty fresh, fully hydrated and eating well. Then... what happened? The walls tumbled down.

Down into the mid section, mile 17-19 of the race I began to feel pressure, or realize that I had been feeling pressure since about mile 4. I had not seen anything on this course. I'd bypassed the joy of the river, didn't jump in or soak my feet and head... I didn't smell the mountain laurel and barely noticed a single thing along the way. I was rushing against myself, against previous versions of this race... and doing everything I could to fail... all while telling myself that things were going fine in this race.

The Downfall

I entered aid station 2, 17 miles into a warming morning feeling under control, I thought. My focus was to get in and out quickly, brashly exchanging bottles and muttering nonsense and believing that I was bettering my race- I rigidly went back out onto the trail, still being stalked by the second place runner. He had been vanishing behind turns throughout the run. When he was suddenly shirtless, I had estimated that the heat was taking a toll on him, that the hills were zapping his strength and that I had only to keep covering miles to have a successful day. Then my reality hit like a lead pipe. Conserving energy on the 2 mile downhill into the turnaround at 19 miles I found myself getting hot and tired, I finished 22 oz. in about one mile and began on the second bottle on my waist pack. 44 ounces gone in 2 miles... 

The chasing runner was getting closer, running aggressively downhill and chewing up the trail. I could feel him grabbing me and reeling me in, almost tangibly. My condition worsened and within 5 minutes of the turnaround I began having some very negative thoughts.

• "Well, that's it. You can't do this for 12 more miles... 12 MORE MILES"
• "The 2 mile climb will be too much."
• "It is so HOT..."

These things and like fears recycled through me and as I tapped the bridge at the turnaround the lead I had built was gone. I ran in first, feeling like I was keeping his seat warm for when he wanted me out of his way. For now, he was patient, he ran smartly and followed my effort up the trail. The difference was he was out for a stroll and I was pulling a piano, or not even that. I was pulling nothing- I had no power... and I mercifully thought to myself, "please... just go by me..."

Dropping the Weight

Within 5 minutes he did and like any good racer, when he went, he made the break quick and clean. Within 30 seconds he was out of sight... bounding away up the hills as I struggled to get a measly breathe and a six inch step. I had a good 10 minutes left on this brutal climb on a good day. As a result, I built the hill up in my head, recalled all the past pain of previous encounters with this beast... and slowly I came to a 'power' walk... at 20 miles I was already walking the hills... never before.

I figured, okay, I can recoup. I have a long downhill to the river, it will be cooler down there I hoped. Maybe this is a tough stretch, maybe the new leader is just having a good spell... maybe maybe maybe. But this was wishful hoping and each time I tried to resume running, it was the same equation; increased effort, exponential increase in perceived exertion and the body temperature was boiling. And I was cooked. I had beads of sweat with cold pasty skin... I was pale and weak. Sometimes listening to your body comes in the form of heading warning signs of trouble.

Aid Station 3

Lynnea and Sylas waited for me at the third aid station and I was 50/50 on whether to continue on. Here are the contemplation points I reviewed as I sat down with a frozen towel on my head, changing socks and gulping water for minutes on end...

• Don't Quit
• The heat is dangerous
• You can walk
• It'll take 3 hours at best to walk that distance... with Lynnea and Sylas waiting  in this heat
• Don't Quit
• Don't go to the hospital... go hang out with your family at the river...

With that I packed my things up. Runners continued passing by, returning runners looked strong as they headed out into the PTSD 10, the crux of the Chattooga... the section I only saw from its friendly side this year. 

I stopped by the official clip board and said the words... "#146 dropping... no, no injury..." and then I turned to the car, the cold a/c and the soft seat. We drove to the finish area, picked up my drop bag of finish line items- the reminder of what I wanted to have for comfort upon a successful run... no comfort this day.

Perspective

My boy Sylas

As I tossed these gear items into the car I looked up before closing the hatch. There I saw little Sylas sitting peacefully and smiling with his chubby cheeks and toothless grin and his bright blue eyes shining... He was laughing and giggling and having a great time. I just couldn't spare a thought of being disappointed by a run in the woods. We spent the rest of the day as a family visiting the river and waterfalls in the area and swimming. 

Disappointed? No. 

What are some lessons that "failure" in running have taught you? How did your running change as a result?

Happy Running!!

Asheville Shamrock 10k Race Report... and a treat

A perfect day for racing was left to participants of the 2011 Asheville Catholic School's Shamrock 10k. This was my first visit to this particular event after having raced in Lenoir, NC for the previous 3 years. I was expecting the competition to be more serious amongst the runners and the course to be more difficult as well.

Elevation by kilometer (do the math as you climb!)

The Course
This was challenging for a 10k and certainly not the place to run a personal best... but had enough give within the take that a decent time could be posted. This course favored the stronger climbers and then downhill speed.

I had not run it, but had a vague memory of the chart showing the elevation profile etch in the depths of my mind. I knew there was something steep and then some more climbing before the course lolli-popped back to the starting area. It was with this limited knowledge that I lined up and dashed from the start to avoid trampling small boys.

Into the Great Semi-known World
Right away the course offered short steep ups and downs so the body HAD to be ready from the start. Since I had run my warm up in this section I was ready and ran a 5:40 and felt very comfortable.

Soon, I did back down a little bit effort wise as runners were finding their paces in the uneven terrain. I yo-yo'd with one runner for a bit, before he settled back a bit as Dave Workman (Masters Champion) came up on my shoulder. We have been racing together quite a bit lately so it was good to see that I would have such a nice guy to work through the course with. He is in the picture below in white just behind the large cone and the little guy in red.

The Sean is stage left... #1073

Mile two was a downhill cruise and a straight shot on a large avenue. We ran side by side chasing after the pace vehicle on a cool and still morning. I felt right at home and really enjoyed the scene as the race was set up to be a good one. Mile two 5:32 and feeling great!

The Climb
And then... we made a sharp right hand turn and began the climbing in earnest. Within a minute I found myself slightly over-extended but also opening a gap into the lead. This was not intentional in the least. But once out there, doing that kind of work I decided to just settle into it and grind. Adjusting my intensity to a level I could maintain for 10 minutes I knew that even with some over extension here, I did have a big, steep and long downhill run into the last mile where I could cover ground on pace and recover at the same time.

As the hill continued I was able to catch glimpses of Dave chasing me. At switchback sections I saw that I was probably extending the lead a little bit, maybe 15 seconds or so. At the same time, I derived a good dose of confidence recalling all the hill training I have been doing back home in Boone (which is much hillier than the Asheville area if you ask me). I hit the hills almost every day and came to the place where I was no longer "racing" but running the terrain as fast as I could. The "race event" in this sense fades to the role of a stage for performance, testing fitness, which is elevated as the distractions of competition fade and all that remains is the job at hand... getting up over the hill quickly.

Dividends
The slope gave way steadily and the course became a slight grade for a mile or so with a couple short steep spikes. As I reached the top of the course I caught some great views of the Asheville area below and then followed the escort vehicle down tight turns and steep grades.

Having the trust in your turnover and sustained leg speed is a skill which needs to be developed by running hills aggressively. You really have to allow the legs to spin freely on the steepest areas and then reconnect with your pace when the road levels out again.

I use trigger words to remind myself that the goal is not to run that screaming downhill pace for the remainder of the event but to settle back into the race as the terrain settles back... What I say to myself is "transition". This key word triggers proper running form and technique which put me in my effort/pace once again. I do this all the time, everyday any time terrain changes present themselves. As the course flattened out into  the end of mile 5 the 10k course rejoined the 5k and a straight and slightly downhill grade ushered me along. Thanks to preparation I was running fast and efficiently. The training was paying off and I was having a blast:)

Hold it together
Now I was back in a recognizable land. This was where I had warm up, I usually like to run the final mile of the course for key topography, so I knew I had 3 little hills ahead of me. I had no clue who was behind me or how close they were as I chased down the bumper of the lead vehicle but I had a good idea that I was laying down my best race in over a year. The finish line proved it in numbers too as I completed a very difficult course in 6:02 pace, 37:26 (full results)... compared to January's 38:51 on a MUCH gentler course I am feeling very good about where my training is and where my mind is leading into Boston next month.

The Takeaway
By adding consistent volume, with long and demanding (but very low effort) trail runs and regular short duration, but fast and intense speed work I have been able to quickly find my racing legs... this week that brought me a free rafting trip and a new pair of shoes from Foot RX in Asheville!! So at least I covered my entry fee and gas money... (getting a little out of hand don't you think? Anyone else driving to Boston?)

and... if you have made it this far in the report you deserve a prize yourself. So here is the traditional finisher's award for St. Patrick's Day races here on this blog.  Georgia Snail here are The Sirens for their annual visit:

The Sirens

Happy Running!

Fletcher Frostbite 10k: Race Report

I stood on the crowded starting line literally squeezing myself between a 9 year old girl and a 13 year old boy... my goal, sub-38 minutes for 10k. Having just run 38:51 last month I was about to see what my solid return to training had brought out for me.

The Frostbite 10k in Fletcher, NC is run simultaneously with the 5k event.This resulted in 600 people running two different races all trying to get off to a great start together. We know what generally occurs though, 85% of those with toes on the actual starting line dash out for 50 meters of sprinting before creating a human blockade for the others. So on Sunday this is how the event began...

After the initial rush to the front and several near crashes involving inexperienced runners of all ages... the field of the 2 distances was off. We began with a loop on a fitness trail which found the first nine runners spread out in single file order in front of me, sitting in 10th. Once we reached the road we split into our own races, 5k right and 10k left.

"Great" strategic starting position (L. in blue w/ shades)

Simmer Down Now...
At mile 1 (5:47) I was in 4th place in the now segregated 10k race and still in sight of the leaders.

Aaron Saft was way off the front with already a 30 second gap and the 2nd and 3rd runners both leading me by about 5 seconds. We reached a long, long downhill which swept left and crossed over the interstate at one point before we leveled out. We then ran an out and back finger on a secluded dirt road. There were no mile markers in this section (mile 2 and 3) but steadily the gap increased between myself and the front runners.

At this point the goal was to stay patient but move forward with economy, which I felt like I did well despite the temporary set back in position relative to others. I was running my best and that ain't bad.

What is she laughing at??

"Lookin' Good!!" (???)
It is often difficult to tell by the comments of the oncoming field (in out and back situations) whether you are gaining or falling back or looking good or dying or whatever... these comments come from a wide range of runners. But I kept hearing positive feedback from folks in this section of the run. Again and again these upbeat comments gleefully spouted from people who seemed genuinely excited about the kind of running I was doing. So I guess it confirmed how I was feeling in this early section... great!





Grind it up
This positive reinforcement brought me to the base of the first (and only significant) hill which was going to be a grind. Let me point out that once we reached the top of this hill (still out and back section) we would head into the unknown for me, I was running this course blind. For all I knew the final 2 miles could be all up, all down or anything in between. What this allowed me to do was simple... I was free to run.

I ran up the hill with what felt like 90% effort. I was gaining on the number 3 runner, who had gapped me significantly, maybe 45 seconds at this point. I was gaining very slightly every so often and I chalked this up to variables in conditions. It was windy and hilly so there would be an ebb and flow in this portion of the course.  He was still off the front enough that I just focused on what I could control: my effort, my relaxation and my focus to move swiftly and of course economically. If I was feeling this well at mile 4 I could begin extending myself a little more toward my physical limits. So far my sub-38 minute goal was right on track.

10k winner Aaron Saft #1296, me #1123, & girl still laughing

Top o' the Hill to Ya
At the peak of the hill we ran into mile 4. We were back near the starting area and there was a good crowd presence which always serves up some energy. At the same time, the course grade gave way and we swooped downhill near the finish area and the track where the finish line waited. Here we also ran into more traffic on our 10k course rejoining the 5k. It was a bit of an obstacle course in sections with runners coming and going at a lot of different speeds and people not always aware of others around them. It is best to go with the flow in these situations, but some people were being very... bossy, about who should be running where.

This machine kills fascists
There was one lady who was participating in the 5k who had just stopped in the middle of the path and was yelling at everyone coming and going... "STAY LEFT!!! STAY LEFT!!!", but nobody listened, and why would we? We each stayed right or ducked and weaved between people, whatever worked. It was hilarious and sad to see her so helpless to fight the tide. I hope she eventually completed her 5k and gave up on race marshal fascism...

The crux
We continued onward and were back on a road on the final out and back section of the course. I could almost touch the 3rd place runner I had gained so much in the previous section. Honestly, I could have been being caught myself by this point... no clue, but it is a rule of mine to NEVER look back.

The correct mixture of paranoia and relaxation and do amazing things for fighting fatigue and breaking down barriers- but if you look back, you might as well stand still and wait to be passed. Keep your focus on moving forward, there is no defense anyway, it doesn't matter what is behind you!

Some get last minute timing chips 

Next time you hear the beep
At mile 5 (indicated by the 3rd place runner's Garmin-beep) I had pulled even for 3rd place and we were about 300yards from the turn around which would bring us to our home stretch, where were had just/were already running. I still held back a little bit out of respect for this runner, not knowing his abilities etc... A mile is a long way out to make a decisive move. But gradually I felt the gap widening until I was running by myself again.





Drifting apart
There is a moment when the synergy between two runners/ competitors is disconnected and you can sense the snap in the air as an emptiness. I used the void to my benefit and now put the hammer down, driving up a slight incline and back onto the dirt path where the "traffic police" had been "directing" us earlier. People were still running on the right... A short time later I was on the track and running the 200m turn to the finish line, chasing my sub-38 goal I broke the tape surprised to see that I had just run 36:40... 2:10 faster than January!

What stays with you
By no means a PR for me, but hands down the best race I have run since January of 2010. I was decisive, patient, relaxed and ran from within, what they call "organic running". I was able to enjoy a sense of satisfaction and joy from this running experience. The freedom allowed the run to happen as if an exploration.

I stopped by the expo for a bit afterward, grabbed my Age Group medal (3rd overall got me left off the podium... but top of the 30-34s... so I had that going for me, which was nice) and headed home to see Lovely Lynnea and baby Sylas:) Next month 2 races and then that race in Massachusetts. 

Chattooga 50k Race Report

I went into this run with one goal. Sub 5 hours finishing time. That was it, a line in the dirt was drawn and it was up to me to cross it... at some point.

So off we went from Terri's campsite and down into the Winding Stairs trail. Reluctantly I was in the lead on the single track easing along at 7:30 pace though my hope was to run around 9:50 pace for the day on average. Byron Backer and Sean Cienfugos were both chugging along with me leading the way downhill for 3.5 miles. I was the fortunate one taking all of the spider webs for the rest of the 60+ runners on their way:)

Soon Sean asked to go by and Byron and I stepped to the right and Sean soon was a phantom on his way to the turnaround at the bottom of Winding Stairs. Byron and I reached the turn about 60 seconds behind Sean and at 7 minute pace. Much too fast but it felt very slow. Time to slow down... the climb back up was smooth and very runnable. About halfway up this climb the leader came back into view as I was able to spot my running friends on their way down the trail. There was Georgia Snail looking at ease with Jim and Psyche was a little pack with her shining smile lighting up the world.

Soon Sean and I were even on the trail and we began taking turns at the lead. I was a bit quicker on the climbs and he would fly by me on the descents. I was going for even effort and happy with the rhythm of the trail at this point. Arriving at aid station one I drained my bottle and took an extra gel for my pocket and stashed that away for later... (much later in a far distant place which was only 2 linear miles away.)

Because I had stashed all my supplies ahead of time on the course the previous night I was able to stop for about 5 seconds to drop a bottle and pick up freshies. Off I went toward the river all alone now as Sean was stocking up at the aid station. Around 2 miles later he was back with me screaming down the trail and passing me just as we reached the river. We returned to our yo-yo rhythm with the trails on climbs and descents.

As we began the climb out of the Chattooga and toward Hwy 107 I was soon running alone and being eaten alive by deer flies... those little annoying bastards.

Reaching aid station two I again dumped old bottles for new and headed downhill for the two miles to the turn around at 19 miles. I was on pace for a 4 hour finishing time at 15-16 miles and so knew that the second half of the course was about to lay the smack down on me:)

At the turn I was now about 1 minute in the lead and only passed a handful of runners on the return in this 4 mile out and back between stations 2 and 3. Upon reaching the final aid at mile 21 I grabbed the last two bottles of support I had left out and headed into the darkness...

My spirits were optimistic but my muscles in my shoulders were screaming, my arms tired and my heart rate spiking at the slightest change in elevation. Even the descents were tough at this point in the run. At mile 24 I took my first walk break, something I never do... I was now on a 2 minute rotation of running and walking, trying to run on anything downhill or flat. This strategy was successful and soon I was running everything again for about 3 miles. Marathon split time was right at 3:30. Still 90 minutes to complete 5 miles.

My mind was mush and and body was mushier. The fog was deep in the brain and soon I was faced a steep climb of about 1 mile. I had not seen anyone for a long time. Georgia Snail looked really good when I saw him and I tried to stay positive like he seemed to be. The hill before me required 4 sitting breaks and 25 minutes to cover what I figured was about a mile. I swear had a ride been offered to me I would have taken it at a few points-- luckily I had only one way to escape the wilderness area and that is what I aimed to do.

"5k to go" I told myself as I popped in a final piece of hard candy. This one was a glowing iridescent blue and tasted like a cough drop. For some reason I had saved this magical sugar dose for weeks and now was the time for it. Suddenly awake from my stupor I began to run the trail again. Minute by minute my mood improved and I decided to finish strong for Lynnea who could not make it to the river this weekend. I wanted good news to tell her as she rested at home with a special package in her care. These thoughts elevated me and I was soon moving at around 8 minute pace.

I reached the final downed log on the trail and knew this was about 10 minutes from the finish. I ran on through the soft trails as they wound into Big Bend falls. The water eased me and I was feeling great. My time was looking promising and I hoped to finish under 4:40 at this point.

Up the final climb with a little walking and then to the road to the finish, out of the woods and returning to Terri's campsite (having to pass mine fyi) to stop the clock at 4:32.

On this new course I was able to improve my 2009 finish by 36 minutes and feel a lot better doing it, despite the terribly rough patch out there. The doom and gloom gets a strong hold on you at points, all you can do is keep moving on and see where it ends... because it always does. Imagine if we took the easy way out, think of all the things we would miss!

Happy running!!!

Chattooga 50k- race report

As I sit here listening to my Red Sox pound away at the Yanks I can't help but think how life is so good. And with that in mind, here is how the day on the Chattooga turned out for me... a first time ultra runner.

I woke up early and Lynnea cooked up eggs, biscuits, gravy and bacon while Joshua supplied some high octane beans for the morning brew. We ate well and headed toward the start. The radio subtly played '3 little birds'. "every little thing, will be all right..."

After braving the john (and maybe hitting the woods a time or two) we were set to go. Terri gave us a few words and announced her intention to run as well!! and then we were off. I settled into an easy pace somewhere around 15th position on the trail. It felt right, and even as the front runners spurted out of view I reminded myself to relax and enjoy. Either they would come back or they would not, but I still had 30 miles to run, including all of the hills. Time would tell.

Soon the lead woman asked to pass a group of younger runners ahead. I took this opportunity to move up a few spots and open up the running a little bit. All systems were smooth and I wanted to see a little open trail for a few miles. I was soon alone and running on without any strain. The overall theme of the day was to be exactly this... no strain, just move ahead and flow with the land. Over then next few miles I worked my way onward. Upon the choice of high water or low water trail I decided to go for the plunge. Judging by the look on the face of the man who was fishing in that spot, I was likely the first runner to make this decision. I have seen some looks of disgust before but I swear this guy was looking for a larger hook as I ran by. I should have been paying a little better attention to my feet though. Soon I ended up fully submerged, baptized in the Chattooga, and just like that the magical waters elevated my spirit... and something great happened. I stood up and laughed... made my way from the water and back to the main trail. Now things were getting started.

Soon I was in the middle of a group of three runners. I followed those red racing flats in front of me and patiently plodded along. Feeling just right, exactly where I was suppose to be. All things had led me here and here and here... as steps faded to steps and all there was to be sensed was NOW. After a few small climbs the trail opened up to the first long downhill of the day. We swooped in a pack through this watershed and eventually made it back to the river. Around 63 minutes we made our way away from the river for the final time on the way out and up toward HWY 107.

I decided to lead the group at this point and was starting to think about who may be up ahead on the trail. How many runners were ahead? How large was their gap? In the more runnable areas I opened up and may have hit 6:30 pace for a few sections of trail. After that craziness subsided I settled back into the long climb up to the first aid station. At 10+ my split was 1:39... a minute ahead of schedule and feeling like I just got out of bed... this is going well.

Lynnea was on point at all the stops and got me everything that I wanted... and before I even knew that I wanted it. Banana... peeled. Clif bar... opened and in hand. Bottles... filled. Off I went. Aid station total elapsed time for the day... 90 seconds. Beautiful. And what a lift to see the most beautiful girl in the world... after mucking around in those woods;)

Lynnea reminded me to slow down and relax... and also that I was leading. She knew my intended splits and was aware that I was a little fast already. Then I thought... what... LEADING??? LEADING!!!! Okay... leading. Not exactly expected but, still here I am and I feel good.

The thought over the next 60 minutes is conserve. Mostly downhill... just maintain, even slow down... still two big climbs to come. Save the legs, as long as I keep it controlled I know finishing will happen. The endurance, I know now, is there. About halfway through this section a young wood pecker learning to fly comes crashing down in front of me, nearly taking me out as well. I said 'hello', saw he was off trying again and continued on down the trail. Hearing footsteps...

I reach the halfway point and see my wonderful wife again. My lead has been cut by a minute or so but I feel even better than I had at Aid #1. Mile 16 split 2:29 (50 minutes). Now I share the trail for the next 10 miles. As runners are heading out we exchange trail cliches and smiles and encouragement. Everyone looks good and strong and I hope I am too. I am feeling fairly fresh despite a small amount of sharp hip pain... mostly when I am running easily so... I decide to not run too easily. It works. From the half way point to the base of the second big climb I average 7 minute miles and my breathing is hardly affected... running with the flow of the land is working well. This is like a dance.

After being warned several times of bees I cross the infamous bridge where they supposedly nest. Honestly, I was not worried about the bees, though I had heard much buzz concerning them. As life would have it... I got stung. I was nearly home free with only a single step to complete to reach the solid ground. Then ZAP!!! Right on my right knee.

I take this on as a challenge and distraction from the work ahead. The transition to hill climbing begins and I steadily attack the hill. Halfway up I see Lynnea again at the "turnout". She offers food and drink but I tell her I'll see her in 12 minutes at the top. Onward and upward...

51 minutes from the turn around I reach the final aid station. I've been running for 3 hours and 19 minutes now... and feeling great, feeling fine. I know that this though, this final 10+ miles; is the race... this stretch of running is the reason we all came here today. This challenge validates the countless steps we have all taken along the way.

I am alone. I am relaxed and able to do some simple math... pipe dreams are entering my head now. My time goal of 5:30 is well within reach now... I need only to maintain effort... but, what is my lead? Is it shrinking? There is no way to know and ultimately this does not matter.

I know, as we all do, that the essence of what we do on the trails is simply internal. We know when we give our best, and more importantly when we do not. I continued on with this is mind. I am racing ideals and running with my soul. I attack the descents and flats, still able to open the stride fully. When the uphills meet me I smile and chuckle. I chop my way upward with small efficient steps. Occasionally I peek to the trail behind me and look for signs of activity... nothing... nothing... nothing... I am alone, at least for now.

6 miles to go. NOW, I am starting to feel tired. The trail turns technical with roots, rocks and no rhythm; this race is not done with me. With cautious urgency I move ahead. I have now run 4 hours and 36 minutes... over 26 miles and this from here is all unknown for me. My 5 Marathons are child's play now. Though, mysteriously I feel better than in any of those efforts. Fatigue is here... but not despair, just elation and that thing others call the wall is nowhere. It does not exist. I could run forever like this... I could... but I will settle today for 6 more miles without a fall... 6 more miles of bliss. In moments when I realize my fatigue, my aching I remind myself of all those times when I felt much worse than this. This is fine, this is easy. Just relax, and move.

I reach the high water trail and like most of the runner's on the day's return, I decide to avoid challenging the river for a second time. Not only did I not want to slip on those rocks but I also wanted to check out that section of trail up there. It would be a shame to do all of that running and not see the "entire" trail... even if it meant an extra hill.

At 2.5 to go I finally saw Terri. My eye had been peeled all day for her and I was disappointed at the circumstances leading to her day's events. A runner had been injured here and she was playing the hero, as she did for all of us. After all, without all of Terri's efforts we would not share this camaraderie and this beauty on the trail.

Soon I was moving on after a delay of a few minutes.

"2.5 miles to go... okay... that'll take... 10, 20... 25 or 30 minutes," I think to myself. As is policy in these times, I click a new split on my watch and prepare to count to 30 minutes. "I can always run for 30 minutes."

5 minutes at a time I move ahead. Now I am concentrating on the trail, on my steps and being absolutely SURE that I run on the Foothills Trail and only the Foothills Trail. Home is in sight and a big hug awaits! 15 minutes gone... "good... the tricky trail near Kings Creek Falls should be coming soon." I now recall the early stages of the race.

I recall the underlying anxiety of the morning and all of the months of work that have led to this race. I recall back in January, when I was running only 10 miles a week, and 50k was a near impossibility. I remember the darkness of my training run down in Linville Gorge when I was utterly defeated by the final climb. I think of demons of my past, and a lifestyle that urged me to lay down and stay down against everything that makes me who I am. I take all of this, and hold it to the light of this moment. I am alone on my favorite river to feel this fully. I take my time over this final mile. I am at peace with all that has lead to this moment.

And just like any moment... this fades. I see the face of a young girl. She is waiting at the final turn to run and give the news that the first runner has arrived. I cross the line and see Lynnea. She gives me the best prize of all... all her love. I look at my watch and see my time... 5 hours 8 minutes. A new course record.

Lynnea and I retreat to share our moment of success. We await the rest of the runners and allow the emotions of this process to finally escape after building for 6 months. I am left believing, knowing... the mind WILL achieve anything for which it can formulate a plan.

Over the next several hours we share stories, eat amazing BBQ and exchange understanding with good people from all over the Southeast. My first ultra... but not the last. See you in Goblin Valley Utah... October!