Tuesday, March 8, 2022

Twisted Branch 2021

    (Below, any information regarding the trail or other objective aspects of the race are in italics. My experiences and thoughts are in plain text.)

    For the first time since signing up for this race on Black Friday 2019, I was finally back to where I had longed to be: with my people, at the start of an ultramarathon, ready to put ourselves through something. Looking to see if we have what it takes to make a way to the finish line so many miles out in front of us.

Prerace

    Twisted Branch, August 21, 2021, was my first 100k and my first ultra since Glacier Ridge 50-mile in May of 2019. In between those races I had done two 50k distance personal projects in the Adirondacks: the Saranac Lake 6er Ultra and the Lake Placid 9er Ultra. For Twisted I was extremely lucky to have along three of my good friends to crew/pace for me on the day. Mark was the been-there-done-that veteran (Oil Creek 100, Eastern States, Tahoe 200) and crew chief. My brother Josh was is training for his first 50k and would handle the bulk of pacing duties (19miles). Kurt was the third member of the crew and training for his second 50mile race and was given the responsibility of getting be through the last six miles of the course to the finish.

    A four-hour drive on Friday got us from my home in the heart of Oil Creek 100 territory to the middle of the gorgeous Finger Lakes region.

    Everything about the prerace check-in and start at Twisted Branch was very laid back and matter-of-fact. When you got to Ontario County Park you drove to the very top of the hill and were told where to park by a volunteer. Packet pick-up was a breeze. From there it was "set-up your tent wherever you want in the field." I have certainly camped in less scenic places. 

Pre-Race Camping Area

    For the start in the morning, check-in was at the same pavilion as packet pick-up, then pick out a spot in the queue of people. Promptly at 4:00 AM, one of my favorite things happened: the unremarkable response that occurs when someone yells "go" at an ultramarathon, everyone just kind of starts walking forward. 

    The only negative to anything pre-race was that the mandatory meeting started half an hour later than it was supposed to. And the only reason it was negative is that by the time it concluded and we drove back to the town of Naples the restaurants in town had closed or were about to do so. But the crew and I were able to grab some very tasty local pizza. I got to sleep around 11:00 with my alarm set for 3:00, but my mind had me awake at 2:30. Let's do this!

Starting line - all smiles

Race Map - North Section 

Start to Cutler - mile 6.0 overall, 1:25 overall time 

    A caveat up front, the Finger Lakes region was absolutely hammered by heavy rain in the week+ leading up to the race in 2021, so the descriptions of mud may be specific to this year. That being said, the mud and water damage to the course was pervasive and, in some cases, extreme.

    With the 4 AM start, this section was run completely in the dark, but is entirely on singletrack. There are very few sections to pass, so stay patient and keep in mind that you will be wishing you could run as fast as an 11-minute mile by the end.

    The mud and water in this section was minimal and avoidable. The uphills here were all small rollers. The only big downhill was right in the middle of the section, and with everyone being fresh it went easily.

    I started the race beside Tami Sari an absolutely amazing ultra runner from the same neck of the woods as me. She was toeing the line a month after completing Tahoe Rim Trail 100-mile.

    I ran much of the early part of this section with a guy named Ted, I am guessing that was a nickname because I couldn't find him in the race results, who told me a funny story about his calf tattoo. He got it when he and his wife joked about their thirteenth anniversary being the "tattoo anniversary" and then they actually followed through on the idea.

Culter to Naples Creek - mile 12.5 overall / 6.5 section, 2:47 overall, 1:21 section

    This section opened with what was a very long road section. Overall, I was surprised by how many road miles there were in this race. In the total mileage of the race it was not a huge percentage, just something I missed in the pre-race prep. This particular road segment was around a third of the total length of this section. The sun came up just in time for the very long downhill into the first crew accessible aid station.

    As soon as the road section ended the day's mud began and from that point (8.0 miles) to the finish my feet were soaking wet.

    The Naples Creek aid station was welcome as I was completely out of the Gatorade I started with and I was looking forward to trying the Skratch labs drink that the race was providing on-course all day. I had never tried it before. Normally that is not a strategy I embrace, but somehow I never found what drink mix the race was using until a few days before the race (my fault, not theirs). So my plan was to try it early so I knew whether to stick with it, or go back to the supply I had brought with me in the crew van.

    The crew had the perfect parking spot at the aid station - the very first spot as you came in and also the closest spot to the course possible. Our aid station process was exceptionally smooth here and throughout the day honestly. They had my pack off my back, emptied, completely refilled, and back on in less than two minutes. This was aided by a simple plan for my nutrition on the day that I had communicated clearly beforehand.

Naples Creek to the Sneaker - 18.2 overall / 5.7 section, 3:56 overall, 1:07 section

    This section was completely up, up, up with only one short downhill of any real length that only set-up the next uphill in the section. Straight out of the aid station was the steepest uphill of the entire day. This was a truly massive climb straight up the mountainside with no switchbacks. This climb ran directly along a large creek (or at least it was this day due to the heavy rain) containing some stunning waterfalls. These gave a great excuse to stop for a few seconds as a break in the climb.

    About two-thirds of the way through the section there was an absolutely beautiful gorge over seventy feet deep right beside the trail. The sound of water roaring through was all-pervasive and beautiful. I even stopped and took another runner's picture for them because they were enjoying it so much.

    This section concluded an extremely long, but gradual climb up to the aid station. For my abilities and goals on the day it was just outside of a runnable gradient, but it did allow for very strong and fast power hiking.

    This section was 100% singletrack and was the only section of the day in which the mud did not play a factor at all. This was also the second prettiest section of the day.

    It was in the back half of this section that I passed Tami while I was power hiking and did not see her again until the finish. 

Sneaker to Italy Valley - 22.6 overall / 4.4 section, 4:46 overall, :50 section

    This section was exceptionally fast and unremarkable because the first 2.75 miles were all on country dirt roads and the rest of the section was steep, downhill singletrack to the aid station.

    This downhill was where I first realized that downhills were going to be my weakest point in this race because I was already unable to go downhill with any kind of speed. I got passed by four people just on this downhill.

    It was in this aid station that I tried an rice, egg, and cheese square (good) and took some orange Gu gummies for the road (also good).

Italy Valley to The Lab - 29.3 overall / 6.7 section, 6:16 overall, 1:27 section

   Right out of the aid station this section hit with the longest single climb of the entire day. After the climb was a long, very runnable trail section despite the mud. This was a general theme throughout the day. This course contains sustained, runnable sections despite the potential for mud and the overall elevation profile. The climbs all seemed to be either long and continuous, or short but steep. Either way it was very easy to decide whether I should be hiking or running on these ascents.

    This section concluded with a long, moderate downhill road section into an incredibly short trail section led into the aid station. This aid station is beautiful. You run around the backside of a pond, all the while looking across it into someone's backyard that is covered with crew, spectators, and volunteers.

    This was the first section of the race that was demanding psychologically because it was the first time that I had to start paying attention to the course and navigating for myself. Halfway up the first climb the trail marking flags disappeared and there was not a trace of another one for a mile and a half (not an exaggeration, I tracked it on my watch). There weren't any side trails so you just had to fight through the nagging voice in your head that something was wrong. 

    After this point I started to take special notice of the signs at each aid station exit that displayed what tree blazes the next section would be following. These blazes are permanent and occur more often than the race flags. They also use the standard trail display for upcoming turns. There are multiple sections on the course that use multiple colors of trail blazes, so pay attention to that as well.

    It was during the road running at the end of this section that the unexpected (at least by me) amount of road running in this race was going to be a huge boon for my race. All day long I comfortably hit 9:30-10:30 pace for the entire length of the road sections, eating up miles quickly and easily.

    I must admit this aid station crept up on me. I thought I had another mile to go when I came out of the woods and was hit by the energy of the The Lab.

    During the road section I felt some rubbing in my shoe and decided to make an unplanned sit-down at the Lab and get the rock/dirt from my shoe. What I found instead was that I had worn holes in each of my socks! New Desitin and socks and I was a whole new man. Plus they had salt potatoes at the aid station for the first time all day!

Race Map - Southern Section


The Lab to Patch Road - 35.6 overall / 6.3 section, 7:50 overall, 1:26 section

    This was possibly the most unremarkable section of the whole course. Some rolling hills in and out of the woods with a bunch of field and road crossings.

    It felt good to be halfway done because I was in a good headspace at the time, making it an uplifting, not intimidating, thought.

    It was also in this section that I realized that with my 7:25 first half that my stretch goal of finishing without a headlamp was a possibility. I reckoned I could positive split by 1.5 hours and still get it done, which (SPOILER ALERT) is exactly what ended up happening.

    One of the funniest events of the day occurred in this section, about a mile (maybe two) from the Patch Rd. AS. A large group of us were running together, when we came upon a lone person (I am presuming the landowner) with a cooler on the back of their side-by-side UTV. They told us "free cold beer or water." It was around noon and getting very hot. I had plenty of water, but I still took a peek inside the cooler to see what his non-H2O offerings were: Milwaukee's Best Ice and Labatt Blue Light. As neither of these where what I was craving at the time I said thank you and moved on, but some of my trailmates gladly imbibed. When I departed this impromptu oasis they were happily chugging away their libation of choice. While I was still in the aid station, one of these guys came in. One volunteer approached, saying "Can I take any trash for you... or your beer can, okay. How did that taste out there?" "It seemed like a good idea at the time," came the reply. I left with a broad smile on my face, happy for two newly full flasks of Skratch.

Patch Road to Bud Valley - 39.8 overall / 4.2 section, 9:03 overall, 1:11 section

    This section began with what used to be a logging road, I think, then was at one time a trail, but is now a complete washout filled with large troughs, large rocks, unstable dirt, and steep banks. After this and another half mile of singletrack, the trail popped out onto another extended downhill road section. There was absolutely no shade on this road and is where the heat of the day really announced its presence. As soon as this road section ended it was straight up and over two ridges, the second of which dumped the trail out onto a very rough and steep downhill dirt road that led directly into the Bud Valley Aid Station.

    The climbs in this section were not overly arduous and they only stand out in my memory because they were the first of the day against which my fatigued body really protested.

    It was during this section that I switched to completely liquid and gel calories because I could tell that the heat was not going to let my stomach tolerate more solid fuel.

    The Bud Valley aid station is one long driveway into the campground that is lined with crew, spectator, and volunteer vehicles. The aid station proper is at the very end of the driveway after passing all of these. My "in aid" time here was only a minute because I had already spent five minutes at the van drinking ice cold Coke. I was very pleased to eat my first bacon of the day at this aid station though.

Bud Valley to Glen Brook - 46.2 overall / 6.4 section, 10:42 overall, 1:37 section

    I made it to Josh! I was ready to run with someone. I had been running around, but not with, people since mile eighteen, so I had had plenty of time inside my own head by this point. The heat and miles had stripped the amiable chatting out of the runners that had been so prevalent early on.

    I do not think that anybody could have been more ready to run than Josh was for his  nineteen miles of pacing duty.

    This section opened with the last extended road segment of the day. It was also completely open to the sun, which finally came out in full force after a very overcast morning.

    The mud that was assaulting my race effort is what stands out to me here. This is when I first started cursing the trail. My go-to was "this is not a trail."

    My feet were definitely abused by this point. My Xero Shoes Mesa Trails are the best shoes I have ever owned, I just needed a switch for the final twenty-mile push. When we got into Glen Brook I switched socks again - thanks to Kurt for giving me one of his pairs of Injinji socks, and put on my Altra Superiors. Ahh... cushion.

Glen Brook Aid Station


Glen Brook to Lake David - 50.6 overall / 4.4 section, 12:14 overall, 1:22 section

    In all I really enjoyed this section. Most of it was a very runnable traverse across ridge tops and along farm fields. I believe it was in the woods of this section that most of the creeks were actually bridged. That didn't matter much on this day with so much of the trail being a quagmire, but in a dry year it would be a nice feature.

    On the back end of the section there was a very long downhill to a road (County 13 as it turned out). Immediately across this road was an absolutely devastating uphill, very long and at a very difficult point mileage-wise in the race.

    At the very top of this climb the trail comes out on the very edge of a lake bordered by a wide, flat, and mowed bank. On the far side of the lake you can see the Lake David aid station. I have seldom seen a more idyllic setting to run or have an aid station.

    The volunteers at this aid station were probably the best of the entire day. They came a quarter of the way around the lake to run in with us, find out how we were doing and ask what we wanted to do/get in the station. They were not shy about grabbing our bottles to fill them. They talked us through the next section as they worked. They even offered us some bourbon to fuel us on our way! And it was not cheap bourbon either. I passed, but the generosity of these people fueled struck me deeply.

Lake David to Mitchellsville Rd. - 55.7 overall / 5.1 section, 13:41 overall, 1:24 section

    It wasn't to long into this section that the real mental battle started. It wasn't a battle to stick it out to the finish, that was never in question. Instead, it was a battle to stay positive, to savor and enjoy the day.

    Physically I was only only facing two challenges: sore feet (and maybe some small blisters), and chafing due to two straight crew stops of forgeting to reapply Body Glide. There is so much energy and excitement in aid station stops, this is something I must deliberately plan for next race.

    This section was very straight forward: ridgetop for two miles, HUGE! downhill mile, STEEP! uphill mile, STEEP! downhill mile.

    It was in this section that my ultra brain kicked in strongly and I convinced myself that this section ended in Urbana, and then there would only be six miles to the finish. I was so sure of this that I didn't even tell Josh (who was pacing me) because he would have set me straight right away. So I pushed a bit harder in this section and intentionally allowed myself to get behind on calories toward its end, expecting a big, crew stop to renergize.

    As a result of all this, when we came in to Mitchellsville Aid Station I was devastated. My mood instantly turned black. It was not helped by this being an absolutely skeletal aid station. All they had that I wanted was Coke. I was regretably uncommunicative with the volunteers, not rude or mean, but not myself. All I knew was that I had to get out of there and just get this thing done.

Mitchellsville Rd. to Urbana - 59.2 overall / 2.5 section, 14:22 overall, :37 section

    This section is my only true regret of the day. It was the only section that did not have a speck of mud in it. This was also the most beautiful section of the course, by a huge margin.  The entire length of this section is along Mitchellsville Creek as it runs through a very deep gorge, the path running right along its rim just feet away from the fifty foot (more in some places) drop. The entire woods was filled with the sound of raging white water thanks to the recent deluges. It also seemed like every quarter mile there was another compelling waterfall to stop and see.

    The very end of the section came to the end of the gorge and into the maid valley that holds Urbana, Hammondsport, and Keuka Lake (THE PROMISED LAND). The final half mile (maybe three-quarters) included fifty yards in between the rails of an abandoned railroad, a beautiful creek crossing on a bridge, and a quarter mile along the grape vines of a vineyard. This last half bit was the LEAST scenic part of the entire section, that is how special it is.

    This section started with me at my lowest of low points but I was back by the end. Josh tried to talk to me early on and I said something along the lines of being in a very dark place. Josh: "Do you want to talk about it?" "No."

    In the end it was the waterfalls that pulled me out. The constant roar of water to our immediate left caused me to realize I would regret not stopping to see them. The first one seemed inconvenient, the second was pleasant, and by the third I was "wowing" out loud and enjoying the trail again.

    The Urbana aid station was a purely business stop. A quick sit (only and always on a camp stool, all day. These are not comfortable and with no back to lean on, you don't want to stay on it), some solid-food calories (FINALLY AGAIN), pack refill, lube, and then I was back on my feet. I grabbed my hiking sticks for the final climb up and over "Mount Washington" and then Kurtis and I were on our way into the homestretch.

    When leaving I tied on my Kogalla Ra waist light but I vowed to myself that I would not use it. It was 6:30 and based on my pre-race research, I had one hour and forty-five minutes to go six miles before it was too dark to see.

Leaving Urbana aid station with my pacers.
Josh (left) wrapping up, Kurt taking over.


Urbana to Finish- 64.7 overall / 5.5 section, 16:18:12 overall, 1:47 section

    Kurt and I left the aid station, crossed the road (NY 54) and immediately began climbing. The climbing did not stop for slightly longer than a mile. This was, without a doubt, the hardest climb of the day. It could have been anywhere else in the course and it still would have been the hardest. But it wasn't anywhere else, it was fifty-nine miles into it.

    For the only time of the day I "ran" behind my pacer, either Josh or Kurt, during this climb. I was really relying on him to "pull" me up faster than I wanted to go. I do not want to know how long this would have taken me if I had been out there on my own. A few times I had to stop because my pulse was so high that it was making me lightheaded, but it would pass quickly and then we would continue.

    Across the top of the mountain was very broken trail. It is so remote up there that trail maintenance would take a herculean effort. There were numerous downed trees as well as the trail being very narrow in between briars and other vegetation. At one point we were going along the uneven ground at the very edge of a soybean field.

    My hiking sticks (a.k.a. repurposed wood broom handles with braided paracord straps) were great for these downed trees. I could run up to them, place both sticks on the far side and "launch" myself over the trunk with most of my weight on the straps, all without breaking stride. This would have been impossible with real running poles. 

    From the time we got to the top we got to the top we could see Keuka Lake through the trees, a tantalizing sight knowing the finish line was on its shore.

    The descent to the finish line is eternal. It was two miles from the time we started down until the finish. Of all the descents on the day, this one was the muddiest because of how moderate it was. The only highlight of this descent came as we were traversing across a muddy slope. I slipped and should have gone down into a muddy grave of exhausted self-pity. Instead, I reflexively planted my uphill (left) stick and caught myself at the last second. Kurt gave me a, "That was amazing! I thought you were going down."

    Throughout this entire descent I constantly asked Kurt, "How far have we gone?" I knew we had six miles together, so it was easier to have him read his GPS watch than for me to constantly be subtracting the 59.2 to Urbana from whatever was now displayed on my watch. But what I was tracking was not how far we had to finish. I was keeping an ongoing distance-remaining to light-remaining ratio. My highest goal from the outset of this race was to finish without using lights and it was still achievable if we could move fast enough, having lost a lot of time on the climb up Mount Washington. Halfway down, I knew we had enough light for two miles in open country. My "worry" was as we went down the mountain, the woods kept getting thicker and thicker. With three-quarters of a mile to go the mud abated and we were able to move!

    Now we could hear the sounds of the party in front of and below us. Kurt looked back and said, "We got headlamps coming." Sure enough, a quarter mile behind us was our pursuit. I was not getting passed at this point! Into the gathering gloom we pressed on. There was just enough light left to run confidently.

    The finish line! I could see it! Across the final road crossing and into the "chute" made by the course marking flags I followed all day. Kurt said, "Go get it buddy," and peeled off, graciously allowing me to cross the line alone. The final steps brought tears to my eyes. This was the culmination of nineteen months of training. The end of a day where I shocked myself in how well I operated. I had finished, headlamp free, the last person to do so, in sixteen hours eighteen minutes and twelve seconds, finally a 100k runner.

Finish Line with the crew.
(L-R) Josh, myself, Kurt, Mark


Finish Area - The Morning After


Saturday, August 25, 2018

MM2: Being There, Giving Back

The alarm buzzed. 5 AM. Ugh. Why am I doing this my body yelled at me, but my mind countered, just get up.

Before I ran the Many on the Genny I told my friend Randy Powell I was available to do a long run with him today, just twelve days after my second ever ultramarathon. Granted my day was going to be easier than his: I was only going a half-marathon, maybe with some bonus miles. He was doing a full loop at Oil Creek State Park, as a lead up to the Oil Creek 50k in October.

I had a vital role: Randy was starting at the north end of the park and trusting me to be at the half-way point with everything he needed to resupply his food and drinks to go the second half. Not to mention he was relying on my company to go the distance as well. So as much as I didn't want to get out there, I did anyway. I was raised that if you commit to something you follow through, or let your "yes" be "yes" and your "no" be "no."

As I drove to the trailhead though, I got more and more amped to be out there. I was being relied on, trusted, depended on by another trail runner and friend. I was no longer taking from this sport, I was starting to give back. Even though this was not an organized race, I was crewing and pacing!

Even though the last six miles were not all that fun (understatement) I was still glad I was given the opportunity of being there for my friend. I was glad to give back, something that does not happen enough in our take, take, take American way, even in the trail running community.

If you haven't done it in a while, give yourself the chance of being there. Somehow, for someone. Do something that costs you, go that extra mile. In the end it will feel strangely like you are getting back just as much as you are giving back.

See each mile maker.

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

MM1: Many on the Genny 40-miler

Seven months is how long I waited for this race. That depends on how you define the start of the wait I suppose. I had my eye on this race before I even did my first 50k (Oil Creek - 10/14/17), but signed up immediately after Christmas as a gift from my wife. She doesn't understand ultra running, but she understands how much I love it. Christmas until June 23, 2018 is seven months, with no races in between. I haven't decided on how I feel about such a long, singularly focused build-up. It was grueling though.

Race weekend came finally with the promise, not the threat, of rain. Race day forecast: 70 degrees with a 90% chance of thunderstorms. One of my sayings to get me out the door during training is, "there's no guarantee of sunshine on race day." It looked like I was going to experience that for certain.

Race morning: 4:00AM - wake up. Waking up on race morning is never hard. If anything not getting up too early is harder. If that ever stops being the case, it might be time to quit racing and find a new hobby to spend this many hours a week doing. There is no rain! Dark clouds took up the entire sky as soon as it was light enough to see, but no rain. Maybe it will hold off until after the start. Running in it I can deal with. Standing around waiting in the rain to then run in it for 10+ hours I would rather avoid.

I had a one-person crew for this race: my father. For the month prior to the race I told him that I was only asking for him to be at Aid Station (AS) 3, the halfway point, so I could refill my pack with gels, change shoes if needed, and grab my music for the back half of the race. I never train with music, but I had never run further than 31 miles, so everything option was on the table to get me to the finish. Dad refused this option though and said he wanted to go to each AS so he could see the park and fully experience the race. I was not going to complain, so I packed my drop bag and gave it to him, instead of turning it in at check-in. At the end of the day dad made my race go so much smoother and more efficiently because he was there. I kept forgetting that this was his first time at an ultra. He sure picked a great one to experience! He kept saying over and over, "The atmosphere is so great. Everyone is so casual, but the effort level is still intense. I love the way everyone cheers for and helps each other the whole way." That is the best three sentence description of the ultra clan that I have ever heard.

Pre race check-in was a breeze. Show up, stand in a short, quick-moving line and pin on your number. I settled into the start halfway back the pack and stayed there throughout the entire race.

My strategy for this race was to take it easy up to mile 20 and then go by feel for the back half of the race. The two biggest components of my take it easy strategy was my heart rate (145-155) on my Garmin 235 and to meet as many people as I happened to be around during the early miles. The start is an obviously poor time to strike up a conversation, so I ran happily in my own bubble for the first three miles or so. Those conversations were fantastic! I ran my 50k last fall with a friend halfway and then alone, so to be sharing miles with people I'd never met was very new. Thank you Jim Nail, Carrie Albright, Kyle Erickson for being so open to sharing your experience with me during your first twenty miles.

In the end, the best thing that could have happened, did happen. It rained once, very lightly, for a short time, all day. It happened on the back half of the course, right before I got to AS 4. The cloud cover was heavy all day, which kept it cooler than it might have been. Given what could have been I am happy.

The first twenty miles of this race were the most beautiful trails on which I have ever run. Except for a few miles along the road and a few woods sections, the trail hugged the edge of the >300 foot Genesee River Gorge. Over and over during the morning I had to stop to admire the beautiful views. In particular was Wolf Creek Falls and a cliff-side trail section right after the falls. I went back the next day to see them again, they were so amazing.

After the start, section one of the race went to along the road away from the start, took a hairpin turn toward the gorge and turned back to the start before beginning the trip around the gorge. To see and hear everyone at the start again, even this early in the race, felt amazing and gave a boost. I shared the trail along the gorge from the revisited start line with Jim. The trail to AS 1 is very flat, the only significant hill being down to and back out of the Silver Lake Outlet creek crossing. The creek was about two feet deep with no option for staying dry. I powered straight into the water without slowing down and passed about five people in the crossing because of that. If there is no way to avoid getting wet, why slow down? Climbing out of the creek bottom beside a stunning waterfall was one of the many visual treats that the day had in store for us. At the top of the hill, the trail popped out to the road and a mile of squelching along the road brought us to AS 1.

Since the rain had held off so far, I took the gamble to change shoes and socks at AS1. If the sky opened up and my feet got drenched later, there would be no way to dry them out, but I knew they were soaked now, so I went for it. I dried my feet off with a towel, a fresh layer of Desitin (the not-so-secret weapon against blisters), new Injinji socks, and my second pair of Merrell Trail Glove 4s and I was gone, homemade cookie in hand. My brother calls them Energy Discs and I agree.

Section 2 began with a huge descent down into the gorge bottom that felt like stepping into another state or country. Up top it was breezy and cool, while down here it was hot, muggy, and completely still. We were running on trails that were cut through grass and brush that was chest high, if not higher. After a few adventurous miles came the inevitable climb back out of the gorge. This was the perfect time to not push too hard, so I ate and power hiked. Once we were back on top came the longest roadside section of the day, but after the hill, the flat, fast miles were welcome. It was on this road section that I met and talked with Carrie (another PA runner!) with Jim rejoining for a couple miles too. After heading back into the trails I emerged to AS2 very suddenly. I did not stay here long, because I really did not need anything, but they did have bacon! Two pieces to go and back on the trail.

The section from AS2 to AS3 was the pinnacle of the scenery for the day. The entire length of this section had the highest cliffs, the trail was closest to them here, and the only roadside sections were because of how close the road was to the gorge. If there is such a thing as hammering down in an ultra, this is where I did it. I felt strong, it was still early, and the views were as energizing as the Espresso Love GUs I was eating. Outside of the aid stations the only things I ate were this flavor of GUs and Peanut Toffee Buzz Clif Bars. I stayed steady with the GUs every 40 minutes and had two of the Clif Bars. At aid stations I ate salted potatoes starting at AS3.

AS3 was at the bottom of a good size descent along the road and around the parking lot. Much is said about the stairs down to the bridge immediately after AS3, but most of the descending back down to the river was done by the time you got to the aid station. Here I completely restocked my bottles and pack with Gatorade, full bladder of water, GUs, fresh body glide, ate two potatoes and left. Sitting down here felt great, so I didn't want to enjoy it for too long. The 127 stone stairs to the bridge were as slick as advertised, and more crowded with other park visitors, so running down them was not only against race rules, but not practical. The bridge was gorgeous but even more crowded, so after a brief admiring stop, I began the climb out of the other side of the gorge. I did not know it at the time, but the stone bridge was the last exciting view that the course held for the entire second half of the course, until you were so close to the finish line that you could practically smell it.

The second half of the race truly was a monotonous slog with a few high points to break up the time. On the climb up to the cabins along the gravel park road was where I first felt them, hamstring cramps, that grabbed onto both legs simultaneously and never completely let go for the rest of the day. On this climb was the only time that they got so bad that I could not move forward at all for a couple minutes. In one way though, these cramps were a good thing: they forced me to stay completely locked into the current moment, so I could never focus on just how long I had to go. The second half of the race turned into a constant battle of hydration and electrolytes to keep forward progress possible.

The second half of the course on the Finger Lakes Trail was ridiculously easy to navigate. There could have been absolutely no MOTG markers and the Yellow FLT blazes would have been more than adequate. The navigation was the only easy part of this section however. The trail has a pattern here. Climb all the way up along one side of a creek-carved ravine to a point where it was possible to cross, descend to and cross the creek, climb the opposite bank, run all the way down the opposite side of the ravine, at the bottom, turn north to get to the next creek's ravine, and repeat. And repeat. For 18 miles to AS 5.

AS4 was the biggest highlight of the day for me. I pulled into the aid station and my stomach was going south. I had so much gas building up from the water and calories I was taking in to manage the cramps. One of the volunteers saved my race. She said, "Drink a couple of ounces of coke and eat this ginger chew and you will be burping and feeling great in under a mile." She nailed it. I was belching more and happier than a 5th grade boy five minutes out of the aid station. I wrote it up to just one more newbie hoop successfully jumped through.

With the cramps still ongoing I found out that they only affected me while going uphill. So I was still capable and took advantage of running each downhill and flat. On one of the uphill hikes (being generous there) I pulled up behind someone and asked my go-to question "Are you up or are you down?" No one wants to here "how are you doing?" The answer to that is "Terrible. Everything is terrible. I hate this trail. I hate running, and I hate you for asking me." "Are you up or down?" allows for a quick response that lets me know how to enter potentially perilous late-mile interactions. Dan Knopp (I eventually found out) was down at that point of the race. After asking if he would mind sharing some miles, we began a team effort that lasted all the way to AS5, the longest and loneliest stretch of the day. Not long after we were joined by Jeffrey Marsh and thank you guys for getting me through to the end. I don't want to think about what the day would have felt like if you weren't there.

On the final climb up to AS5, I knew that hearing "The Final Countdown" would be the first sign that I was approaching it. The last mile or so, I thought I heard it many times, but when I finally did, it was some of the most beautiful music I ever heard. This aid station was such a positive place. There were people everywhere! It really felt like if you could get here, you were definitely going to get to the end. Pulling out of here I threw on my music for the first time all day, not because I needed it, but I just wanted it. I never run to music in training, so I made the classic mistake with music, I took off like lightning. My next two miles were among the fastest of the entire day. Once the adrenaline wore off I still had three plus miles to the end which were 100% "I just want to be done" miles. I am dimly aware that the scenery of the gorge was back again, but I honestly didn't care. After coming out of the woods and around a parking lot I was crossing the finish line. The longest run of my life so far lasted 9:42:37 and my Garmin said 41.41 miles.

At the finish, my dad asked me, "What is your favorite part?" I said, "Being done, but ask me tomorrow." My answer is, "The people I ran with." The trail running community is amazing. Thank you for sharing the miles with me. And thank you to Eric and Sheila for giving us a time and place to get together.