Dogfish Dash!

Imagine, my friends, an event that revolves around two of your most favorite things. If, for instance, there was an event that explored the intersection of medieval weaponry and bears, Jeannine would make sure that she and I were there, without exception, annually. For me,  I might choose an event that revolves around the sublime pursuits of long distance running and craft beer. Fortunately for me, I happened to discover, more or less by accident, that such an event does exist! And nearby! Last year, I just happened to be online at the time the registration opened for the DOGFISH DASH. I saw it mentioned on some social media outlet, and I signed up without hesitation.

[Also, if anyone knows of any medieval weapon/bear events, please leave your email address or a link to the event in the Comments section. Thanks!]

Turns out Google image didn't even really have my back on this one. Still, you should read the Redwall books. If anything, they'll make you want to host a feast.

Despite the fact that we had to make the two-hour drive to the the brewery in Milton, DE, from Wilmington, DE, on the morning of the race (yes, I too was surprised that one could actually drive for two hours and still be in Delaware), we had a great time. Race entry also bought me three post-race beers. And GOOD beers, mind you! None of this Michelob Ultra shit (looking at you, Delaware Marathon! For shame!). There was the 60-Minute IPA (a Dogfish staple), a couple of others, and my go-to Dogfish Head beer, the Indian Brown Ale. Spectators could also purchase bracelets for $5 that got them three beers. All proceeds went to the Delaware Chapter of the Nature Conservancy, and we all lived happily until 2013.

I mean, we're still living happily, I just thought this was a nice photo  of me and Jeannine, and wanted to include it. 

This year, the race was supposed to sell out within an hour of registration opening, and I had recruited two shiny, new cadets: Meghan (Jeannine's cousin) and Uncle Mike (Jeannine's uncle, whom I also call Uncle Mike).

The race offers 5K and 10K options, so Meghan and Uncle Mike went with the 5K, and I opted to run the 10K again (I won it last year, and I've never won a race two years in a row, so why not give it a shot?). Since the race was supposed to sell out so quickly, we all basically had an agreement along the lines of, "whoever gets in first registers the others." Fortunately, it worked, because we all got in despite the race filling up in 35 minutes.

"Suck it, Falls Church!"

One of Meghan's friends from work happened to have a beach house in Rehoboth Beach that no one was occupying the night before the race, so the four of us were able to stay there (for this, among other reasons, we had to leave our dog, Dr. Peter Venkman, with Jeannine's parents). Our closeness to the brewery (20min) combined with a start time one hour later than last year, meant that we got to sleep until 6:30am, versus 4:00am for me last year. I actually felt like a human being the morning of a race!
We had picked up our race packets the night before at the Dogfish brewpub in Rehoboth, along with having more-or-less race-conducive amounts of food and beer, and thus didn't have to worry about it on race morning. We got to the race with a lot of time to spare. I warmed up (and was berated by Meghan for doing so), and we were off and running at 9:00am sharp. This was my first real solo race since this past August, in which I busted my ass training, so I expected to run pretty well. I was lighter, faster, and more focused, than I was last year, and probably more than I have been before. When I went through the first mile in 5:00 flat, I had over a :30 lead on the next person (according to people yelling on the side of the course), and while it didn't feel slow, it felt plenty manageable.  There were two cyclists in front of me, one for the 10K leader and one for the 5K leader. They knew by the color of my bib (10K runners wear green and 5K runners wear white) that I was a 10K runner, so the 10K biker told me to just stick with him. Honestly, until I started overlapping with 5K runners, I didn't really see anyone else for the rest of the race. I settled into a nice rhythm and basically enjoyed being out front in the perfect weather. I went through four miles in 20:48 (5:12 per mile), and my finishing time of 32:13 (1:01 faster than last year) was also 5:12 per mile. I felt really strong at the finish, which is encouraging for this coming Sunday's Delaware Distance Classic 15K, which typically draws some fast competition.

"Beer tent!!!"

Meghan and Uncle Mike both did really well, and Meghan finished 2nd in her age group!

"Suck it, Falls Church!"

Also, for those who are unfamiliar with the story, The Beer Runner himself, Tim Cigelske, is finishing up his streak of drinking at least one beer and running at least one mile every day for the last three years. He and I have communicated online since last year, and we finally got to meet for the first time at this event, his last weekend of the streak. You can find his retelling of the Dogfish Dash, and how his wife, Jess, was kindly enough to not go into labor here. Anyway, he was every bit as nice and genuine as I had expected, and we had a gift exchange of sorts. He gave me a "BEER RUNNER" synthetic running shirt, and I gave him a 1-liter growler from my hometown brewery, Wolf Hills Brewing. He also introduced me to fellow beer runner Lee Movic, who rocked the Vibram Five Fingers hard. 

Not pictured: wine runners. Still sleeping probably. [scoffs]

After the awards ceremony, in which I found out that I broke the world record in the 10K (the announcer read my 4-mile split as my finish time), we went back to the beach house, showered, and, sans Meghan (she had to get back to Philly), had lunch at the Dogfish brewpub, wherein we now didn't have to be as cautious as we did the night before about what we consumed (I had three beers and the Indulgence Burger). Also, at the gift shop, we got Dr. Peter Venkman a sweet new collar.

"Yes, but does it come with pork chops?"

Anyway, as for me, I was fortunate enough to be able to take Monday off of work, so I feel like I have recovered famously. I got almost 15 miles in this morning before 6:30, I have one track workout on Thursday, and then I have the Delaware Distance Classic 15K on Sunday morning. The transition into working with Coach Mike has been pretty easy so far. It's basically been, "we're going to take the ass-busting you've done, and someone who know's what they're doing is going to channel it." And so far, I'm feeling really good about it. 

My next report will probably be around this time next week, since I have the race on Sunday. Also, for those interested in running the Blue Ridge Marathon next year, stay tuned, because at some point in the near future, this blog will be hosting a giveaway for free entry... and free shit is cool. Anyway, you kids have fun.

Jeff

Blue Ridge Relay or: How the Judges Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Spaceballs

Hey kids,

Just to give you fair warning, this will be a long entry. Then again, the Blue Ridge Relay is a long race. Let's just dig right in...

For those who are unfamiliar with the race, it is a 208-mile shit storm of steeply undulating mountain roads that starts in Grayson Highlands State Park in southwestern Virginia and then winds its way through the Blue Ridge Mountains before dumping its achy, sleep-deprived sojourners into the quirky, beer-infused mountain oasis that is Asheville, North Carolina. It is divided into 36 segments (legs) ranging from two to ten miles in length and ranging in difficulty from "easy" to "mountain goat hard" (BRR's words, not mine). Ideally, each team has 12 people who each run three legs, and these runners are divided into two vans that essentially leapfrog each other six legs at a time. During each van's "non-active" time, the runners in that van can sleep, get food, and so forth. BRR is hands-down my favorite race. This was my sixth time running it, and I have now officially run half of the legs. I recently decided that, eventually, when I have run all of the legs, I will get a BRR-inspired tattoo that Jeannine will hopefully design. Our team, "Ludicrous Speed," has a Spaceballs theme, and we always go all-out decorating the vans. Each year, our van receives great adoration from many of the other runners and other people we encounter on our journey. We never seem to receive this adoration from the judges of the van decorating competition, however, as historically, none of them has ever seen Spaceballs (and thus, presumably, are under 21, over 60, and/or hate freedom).

Anyway, Ludicrous Speed is a Richmond-based team that I have run with since I was an undergrad at Virginia Commonwealth University, even though I now live in Philadelphia. This year, largely thanks to Richmonders dropping out at the last minute, there were three of us joining from Pennsylvania. There was me, my friend Valerie, who works in the lab next to mine at Temple University's medical campus and with whom I did a triathlon relay this past June (and not to mention engaged in many an impassioned discussion about Doctor Who and Downton Abbey), and her friend from back home (York, PA) Ashley (now my friend as well, of course). Thursday morning before the race, the three of us carpooled in my tiny white Chevy Aveo (his name is Stay Puft) to meet with the rest of the team in Richmond, and then venture to southwest Virginia in the vans. We departed Richmond at around 3:30 Thursday afternoon drove nonstop to our dinner location, Macado's in Salem, VA. Despite the number of home brewers/beer enthusiasts among us, we all managed to abstain from alcohol and have sensible-ish pre-race meals. After another hour-and-a-half or so on the road, we arrived at our hotel in Marion, VA (incidentally a half hour from my home town of Abingdon, and the town where I played my last high school football game). We all got to bed at a decent hour and were pretty well-rested for our 10:30 start time. I got up at 5:00 and got a couple of miles in since it would be mid-to-late afternoon when I would run my first leg, and I had become so accustomed to running twice a day over the last month and a half or so. We began the van decorating at 7:30 and were on the road to Grayson Highlands by 8:30. We went though the usual t-shirt pick-up and took the traditional Start line photo.

Left to right: Ashley, Jaclyn, Valerie, Carrie, Amber, Mike, Carena, Glenn, Karen, Jimbo, Kevin, me

Since the vans leapfrog each other, and since the race is over 200 damn miles long, I won't go into much detail for all of the legs, unless I feel it is warranted. My apologies to Glenn, Amber, Carrie, and Karen, as I pretty much never got to see you run, and thus have no observations to report. But ass-kicking o'plenty, I'm sure!

THE RACE STARTS HERE:

Mike started us off with a fun (I would know, as I ran it the last two years) predominantly downhill four mile leg. He handed off to The Glenn, and this was basically the last I saw of Van 1 until Jimbo (the last runner from their van) handed off the slap bracelet (seriously) to Jaclyn (the first runner from our van) at Bald Mountain Baptist Church, which is known mainly for having an awesome swing set. Jaclyn easily powered through her 5.3-mile leg and handed off to me. I had a 4.6-mile "easy" leg which had a couple of steep-ish hills, and I ended up feeling pretty good averaging 5:13/mile. I handed off to Carena, who, bless her, was comfortable enough just holding out her wrist and letting me slap the bracelet onto it rather than letting me hand it to her. She ran her mostly flat leg along the river (not sure which river) with no complications (except that it was getting hot, and that leg can get pretty monotonous). She handed off to Valerie, who was dealt a rough hand for her first ever BRR leg. Eight-plus miles of giant hills plus a major highway crossing were sure to break her in properly. She had to hand off to Kevin, and fortunately, thanks to his stretching, she knew exactly where to go.

"KEVIN! WHICH WAY IS THE EXCHANGE ZONE???"

His leg took him onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, where vans are not allowed to roam, so we had to take an alternate route and meet him at the exchange zone where he hands off to Ashley, who then began her own, um, fateful journey onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. 

I will now briefly summarize the gross negligence on behalf of whoever was in charge of race logistics: Basically, each team is required to submit a predicted pace based on each runner's 10K road race times. Apparently, out of 158 teams, even though we submitted the same pace that we have submitted every year thus far, this pace now placed us among the top teams (faster teams start later, and we did NOT start amongst our peers, but started out way over our head; this year, our peers were all shifted to earlier times, but not us, for reasons we don't understand). Anyway, by the end of Kevin's leg/beginning of Ashley's leg, we were in or near last place, even though we were at the same point in the race that we always have been in the past for that time of day. So basically, we decided that rather than run the entire remainder of the course by ourselves (since the "race officials" were already picking up course markers even though Ashley had not made it to those turns yet), we decided that we would just skip a few legs and accept the commensurate time penalty so that we would not have to get a dozen people lost in the fucking mountains alone after dark. Fortunately, it ended up being the right decision. All but three of us ran our night legs. I ran my "7.6 miles-very hard" leg, which had some pretty tough uphill, and quite a bit of downhill, and I ended up averaging 6:12/mi. Not my best work, but I caught three other teams, so I'll take it. Once we finally handed off to Van 1 for the last time, we did our best to make a bee-line for the exchange zone where they would hand back off to us. Those of us who had run BRR before knew that this was the exchange zone with churches that included both pancake breakfasts and sanctuaries that allow runners to sleep in silence on cushioned pews. While I was driving there, I was so sleep-deprived that it was taking all of the energy I had to not go cross-eyed, and my trusty navigator, Kevin, was slipping in and out of consciousness. 

Upon finally arriving at the church, I parked the van, got out without looking at anyone, and simply said, "I'm going into the church to sleep for two hours."   

And I did just that. 

And it was exactly what I needed. After that two hours of sleep on that pew, I felt GREAT. I awoke to find Kevin chowing down on the pancake breakfast,and the rest of my van unconscious. Phone service was sporadic throughout the journey, and especially so during this phase of the relay. We were in a deep damned valley. Fortunately, a text or two from Van 1 got through, and we knew, give or take a half hour, when Jaclyn would need to be ready for her "mountain goat hard" leg. It is basically 1.5 miles of level ground, wherein one gets to anticipate the incipient five miles of relentless uphill switchbacks. This is actually the beginning of the most fun part of the relay (not for Jaclyn yet, of course). Van 2 is on its third run and finishing up the relay, while Van 1 is completely finished and is now, for the first time, accompanying Van 2, cheering the whole way. While my van semi-followed Jaclyn up the mountain (both she and the police did not want us or any other van to stop and observe her running), we embarked on my self-appointed "the van's final run" tradition: I pulled up Michael Jackson on the iPod and blasted it loud. It is always amazing to observe how many people toiling up a mountain have their outlook turned around and find a second wind via "Billie Jean." Anyway, I was the next runner, so we had to get up the mountain so that I could suit up and run down. Jaclyn, not surprisingly, though she may tell you otherwise, looked perfectly relaxed and composed as she completed the final segment of her colossal ascent. It was now time for me to run my leg. Now, my leg (the first half goes down to -7%, and the second half is -2% on average) is basically 9.5 miles of having the same relationship with gravity that one might have with dessert on Thanksgiving or with Jagermeister on, well, any godforsaken occasion where one might drink Jagermeister. 

"Gravity, you were kind of a dick when I wanted to play basketball in middle school, but I guess  we're cool now."

The people I know in the past who have run this leg have started out loving it, and by the end have hated running downhill so much that they swear it off forever (or at least, like, a week or so- it's a geography-sensitive thing).  Fortunately for me, I had recently done a SHITLOAD of downhill running, and ended up being even more ready than I realized to handle the descent. I planned on running the leg in 57 minutes due to the inevitable wear and tear on my legs, so I was stunned to find myself at the "exchange zone" sign ten minutes earlier than I had planned. Over the 9.5 miles of ever-decreasing levels of descent, I ended up passing a total of 22 other teams and finishing in 47:30, averaging exactly 5:00/mile. I was surprised at the time, and even more surprised at how good I felt at the end (and perhaps EVEN MORE surprised that after all of that, Carena still stuck her wrist out and trusted me to accurately slap the bracelet onto it). After that, I happily reported my time and overtakings to the team, then stuck my feet in the nearby creek for a couple of minutes, and it felt incredible. We then had to hop back into the van to meet Carena, who was currently traversing BRR's one other "mountain goat hard" leg. She, just like Jaclyn, made it look easy, and came through the exchange zone with that now-quite-familiar "energized, but so relieved to be finished" look. It was now Valerie's turn for her final BRR leg. The difficulty with this leg is typically not with the geography, but more with the temperature. During this leg, it is always hot, and this year was no exception. Unsurprisingly, Valerie handled the heat without complication, and it was time to once again hand off to Kevin, who was by now quite accustomed to his reflective vest (a requirement for running on the Parkway). He crushed his insanely difficult ascent, and then, at long last, it was time to hand off to Ashley for the last time, so that she could begin her triumphant descent into Asheville. Both vans had to, during her leg, find our ways into Asheville, find parking, and be there at the Finish line. We were able to do this with time to spare (despite my pissing off a cop by driving into the police station parking lot in the wrong direction).  We were then able to position ourselves at the final straightaway to cross the Finish line with her. 

HERE ENDETH THE RACE

Not pictured: alibi we would have had to concoct if there were fewer than 12 people in this photograph. 

From this point on, it is all about the party. Our tradition in years past has been to get a few beers somewhere, check into the hotel and shower, then get dinner at Mellow Mushroom, where we then swap war stories over pizzas and pitchers of local beer. This year was no exception. For the immediate post-race beer, we actually went to the Mellow Mushroom as well, where a few people ordered some appetizers, and all of us simply enjoyed being finished. I snacked on a couple of appetizers, which was the first time I had had non-granola bar/bagel-type food in over a day. I also had tasty tasty local beers which made me feel especially good considering my teetotaling, 452-mile August, in which I lost both tolerance and weight. It was at this post-race celebration that I learned that I had inspired the other van to engage in one of my favorite post-run rituals: SHOWER BEER. For those unfamiliar, it's exactly what it sounds like. You drink a beer while you're in the shower. It's just... just magical. Last year, upon checking into the hotel, I went directly to the hotel bar and got a beer for myself and a beer for Jeannine (who unfortunately couldn't make it this year), and I told the team that I was going to drink it in the shower. Upon hearing that this year so many other people were adopting the practice, Jeannine and I decided via text that I am aspiring to be the Carl Sagan of shower beer.  

This makes my annual pilgrimage that much more meaningful. 

After checking into the hotel, showering, and reconvening at the hotel bar, we headed back to the Mellow Mushroom for dinner and pitchers. It was, as it is every year, the perfect way to end the difficult journey. We left Mellow Mushroom, headed back to the hotel, and some of us had a "Blue Ridge Relay: After Hours" bar session before going to our rooms to sleep HARD. The next day, we drove our still-decorated vans back to Richmond (we always get funny looks on the highway), and then Valerie, Ashley, and I got back into Stay Puft and made our way back to PA. Fortunately, the weather, both for driving and for running, was PERFECT all weekend long, and traffic was even great both ways. 

EPILOGUE

I'm not sure about everyone else, but Valerie and I were both in the fortunate position wherein we could take the following Monday off of work. I got to sleep in and then hit the trails for about an hour and half with, for the first time in a month and a half, no training goal. I got to just run because I felt like running (Forrest Gump jokes will be greeted with contempt). We found out the following week, that this year, the first year in which not a single member of our team attended the awards ceremony, that finally, FINALLY, we had won the van decorating contest. SWEET, SWEET VALIDATION! As for my running now, I have recently started working with a coach, Mike McKeeman, the winner of the 2012 Philadelphia Marathon, and 2-time Olympic Trials qualifier. As such, I am forgoing the trail series in the park behind my apartment, and my next race will be the Dogfish Dash on September 29th, followed by the Delaware Distance Classic 15K on October 6th. The relay, and preparation for the relay, have acted well to further my preparation for the Blue Ridge Marathon. 

Speaking of which (segue high-five!), for those interested in gaining free entry into the 2014 Blue Ridge Marathon, I will be hosting a giveaway on this blog in the near future. So stay tuned... because free shit is cool. 

My next entry will most likely be my report of the Dogfish Dash. For those in the Philly area, this weather is perfect, so if you can manage it, drink beer outdoors.

Have fun,

Jeff

My Ascetic August

Having turned 30 this past February, I have started to come to the realization that if I am ever going to get a fast as I had originally hoped I would, it would have to be over the next few years. Given how far I am from where I would eventually like to be in terms of race times, I decided that if I was ever going to get there (my goal is to eventually qualify for the Olympic Trials Marathon), I needed to clamp down my focus now. This August gave me a great opportunity to initiate the process of getting into a more focused training and nutritional regimen. It was a rare month in which Jeannine and I didn't have to venture far away or attend any gatherings, and it thus allowed me to really get into a routine. My month ended up looking like this:

My August, by the numbers
days: 31
runs: 62
total miles run: 452
weekend trips out of town: 0
alcoholic beverages: 0
chips (crisps, for my british friends): 0
meals eaten at a restaurant: 1 (I won a $50 gift card to Applebee's. We came in at a cool $43. Nailed it.)
weekdays sleeping later than 5am: 0
weekend days sleeping later than 7am: 0
times running up and down the hill on Wise Mill Rd (3/4mi in length): 62
runs in which there was a visible bug in my eye for over half of it: 1
weeks in which I initiated core work: 4
weeks in which I actually committed to core work: 0 (hey, it's a process)

Here are the shoes that I bought two days before the beginning of August. For the last five days of the month, I had to duct tape them.

This was easily my most solid month of training ever. While it has never really been uncommon for me to run twice a day or to put in over 100 miles in a week, I have never done so with the consistency that I did this past month. I had never run twice every single day for a month straight or run 100+ miles a week for that many weeks in a row while still including speed work, hill repeats, tempo work, and long runs in every single week. Frank Shorter, 1972 Olympic Marathon Gold Medalist (I got to speak awkwardly to him at the Blue Ridge Marathon this past April) said the the most important aspect of training is consistency. I definitely feel like my body has adapted to the workload, so hopefully by maintaining this consistency, I can really see some progress this Fall.

Coming up next weekend is the Blue Ridge Relay. It is hands-down my favorite race, and this will be my sixth running of it. For those who have never run it or heard of it, it's a 208 mile relay divided into 36 legs ranging from two to ten miles in length. Each team has up to 12 people who run three times each (it's the same format as Ragnar and Hood-to-Coast). It starts in Grayson Highlands State Park in Southwestern Virginia and ends in Asheville, North Carolina. My team, Team Ludicrous Speed (we have a Spaceballs theme), will start running at 10:45am on Friday, September 6th, and we will finish some time Saturday afternoon. At that point, we will be getting knee-deep in some Asheville beer scene. I am pretty excited about this since it will be my first time having beer since July. It will be like I went into hibernation when it was still Summer and woke up to find that there were Fall beers everywhere. Hopefully this will inspire me to start brewing again in September, as it has been far too long (although in my defense, we have had three different kitchens since the last time I brewed). Given the season, I think a nice stout will be in order.

Anyway, after Blue Ridge Relay, I will be racing in a trail series on Thursday evenings in the park behind my apartment, largely because, well, it's in the park behind my apartment. Then, on September 29th, I will be returning to the Dogfish Head Brewery in Milton, DE, to hopefully defend my title at the Dogfish Dash 10K. I will be joined by other distinguished runners, such as Meghan Herwig, Michael Piccorossi, and The Beer Runner himself, Tim Cigelske (@mlh1315, @mpiccorossi, and @TheBeerRunner on twitter, respectively. Also, Tim writes for Draft Magazine online here, where he chronicles his exploration of the intersection between beer and a healthy, active lifestyle).

In other news, our dog, Dr. Peter Venkman, is still a train wreck.

Not pictured: Dignity.

Alright, well I believe that just about does it for now. For anyone who might be interested in gaining free entry into the 2014 Blue Ridge Marathon, there will be a free entry giveaway on this blog some time in the next couple of months, so stay tuned... because free shit is cool. My next entry will most likely be my retelling of Team Ludicrous Speed's Blue Ridge Relay exploits. You kids have fun.

Cheers!

Jeff

Blue Ridge Marathon 2014 Official Blogger. Also, um, a blogger.

As of this morning, I am an official blogger for the 2014 Blue Ridge Marathon. Also, as of this writing, I am, well, a blogger. I have written race reports in the past (my first online race report, from the Finger Lakes 50-Mile in 2011, is pasted below), but I have never regularly maintained a blog, so if it starts out rocky, my apologies.
Anyway, I ran BRM for the first time this year and did well (1st overall in 2:39:48, CR), so I suppose my most cut-and-dry goal for the race is to run it faster in 2014. I have over eight months to prepare, and I've actually run the course now, so I'm optimistic. I guess this post is to basically announce that there will be other posts. Also, since I am an official BRM blogger, there will eventually be a giveaway on this blog for free entry into the 2014 Blue Ridge Marathon. I'm not yet privy to the details of how it works, but stay tuned because, you know, free shit is cool.
I did want this blog to be part of my old Blogspot account, but I have since switched from Yahoo! to Gmail, and switching the account seemed like more trouble than it was worth (and I had simply had it with Yahoo's pretentious exclamation point), so I just started a new one. However, in an attempt to, I guess, earn blogger street cred (?), I have pasted my race report from the Finger Lakes 50-Mile below.

Cheers!
Jeff

Finger Lakes 50 Mile race report

I've been competing in races from 55 meters (indoor track as a high school sophomore) to 50 miles (9 days ago) for over a decade now, and as far as I can recall, this is my first race report, so it may be a little rocky. Here we go...

PRELIMINARY RAMBLINGS:
While I've been running for years, I had been training for this race specifically for about four months. I had done my last long run (36 miles, including 16 long, steep hills) 15 days prior, and I had limited my running to less than an hour a day for the subsequent two weeks leading up to the race. I had also taken the two days before the race off of work so that I could stay off of my feet as much as possible. I was well rested, and I imagine that my incipient hyperactivity was starting to bubble over in weird ways (my girlfriend, Jeannine, would be in the best position to testify about this), so I was ready to race. We left for the race after Jeannine got out of work Friday evening and arrived at Finger Lakes National Forest at around 11 o'clock. Due to circumstances beyond our control, we were unable to get a hotel room, so we had to sleep in my car. I was happy to see that we weren't alone, and there were actually a lot of other people doing the same thing. Despite the fact that my car (a 2009 Chevy Aveo) is roughly the size of a tackle box, we slept surprisingly well. I woke up at around 4:45 (15 minutes before my alarm. Dammit.) and walked the half mile to the start area to pick up my bib number, and there were already several people awake, and the tent area was almost completely set up. There was also a campfire and coffee to accompany the anticipatory energy that envelops race morning. Having gotten my bib number and affixed it to my singlet, I was ready to run. Jeannine, armed with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and many hours to kill, continued to be supportive and awesome.

The course is a 16.5 mile loop that goes through woods, dirt/gravel roads, and pastures (I didn't see any actual cows, but I'm from Washington County, Virginia, so I've seen more than my share). There is a 25k race that does one loop, and it starts an hour-and-a-half after the 50k/50mile races starts. After 2 loops, the 50k/50mile runners can either stop as 50k finishers, or continue for one more loop (plus a half mile "baby loop" at the end) to complete the 50 miler.

THE RACE STARTS HERE:
The gun cowbells went off at 6:30am, and the 200ish of us 50 milers and 50 k-ers began our blister-laden journeys. There was a group or five or six guys that took off at a pretty fast pace, and with this being my first Ultra, I figured that at least early on, I should err on the side of being conservative. I let them go, and I continued at what I felt was a comfortable pace, especially since I didn't warm up at all (since, you know, the race is 50 damn miles). During the first hour or so,  I just relaxed and enjoyed the quiet of the woods (that I would occasionally interrupt when I would stub my toe on a root and treat the woodland creatures to an ever-increasingly complex display of lucid profanity). I had my water bottle, so I would take a sip about every 5 minutes, which seemed to work quite well. There were aid stations every three or four miles which were stocked with water, Heed, pretzels, peanut M&M's, quartered pb&j sandwiches, and really nice, helpful people. I would basically take in half a pb&j every 45 minutes or so (which I had experimented with in training), and that seemed to work well. There was one really long (I estimate a mile and a quarter) steep downhill on a gravel road that ate into the bottoms of my feet pretty badly because I was running in the New Balance Minimus, which have pretty thin soles. I had brought along a couple of pairs of Nike Free, in which I've been running since 2007, as well as two full race outfits, just in case I needed to change between loops. I caught the lead group around an hour into the race, which could have been the result of my being warmed up, their slowing down, or both. At any rate, they were all super nice, and all but one of them were running the 50k. I also learned that the disdain I had acquired for roots sticking up was shared by everyone else. During the half hour or so I ran with the group, we all took turns tripping and falling or almost falling. I still think I emerged as the undisputed profanity savant. Eventually, two other guys and I broke away, and we talked for a while. Peter, a 50k runner, and Chad, a 50mile runner, were, I believe, both from Burlington, Vermont, and at least one of them was doing the Vermont 100 in two weeks. They were incredibly nice, and completely exemplified the supportive nature of the event. We talked about what races we had run and how training leading up to the race had gone. I was curious since I was a rookie at Ultra distances. They also informed me that a guy named Sean was way out in front of us.  I eventually got away from them, silently hoping that I wasn't wrecking myself for later in the race. I felt great, but I had never run an ultra, so there was uncharted territory ahead (insert skydiving metaphor).

I finished the first loop in second place. Jeannine was there clapping, and I waved and winked and got another half of a pb&j sandwich and was on my way. Still doing my best to stay relaxed, it was nice to know that everything in front of me would now be things I had seen before. The first half of the second loop was uneventful, and I ran alone hoping that the guy in front of me might slow down. Sure enough, about halfway through the second loop I caught up to him. I said, "You must be Sean." He said yeah, and I asked him if he was doing the 50k or 50mile, and he said 50k. Part of me was relieved, and part of me thought, "I'm ahead of the 50k leader? What the hell am I doing? I'm going to die!" I was at least comforted by the fact that I still actually did feel quite good. We talked for a while, and it turns out that he's a fellow native Virginian, and he said that he reviewed patent applications, and I told him that that's what Einstein did, so he's in good company. After a little while, Chad, the other 50 miler, caught up with us and the three of us ran along together. Then I decided that if I was going to go for it, now was the time, and for the second half of the second loop, I did my hardest running.  There were varying terrains, so I did quite a bit of running at sub-6:30 pace (during the single track, with the damn roots), punctuated by long stretches of ankle-deep mud, during which you're lucky to not lose a shoe. As I came to the end of the second loop, I realized that my feet were so chewed up by the gravel that if I didn't change shoes, things would get quite ugly on the third loop. I went through start/finish area at what I would later find out was course record time for the 50k. I looked for my bag, and couldn't find it, at which point I yelled, "I NEED TO CHANGE SHOES! WHERE IS MY BAG?" I want to take this opportunity to say that I apologize if my urgency was mistaken for anger, to those who were in earshot. Seriously, no anger. I just needed shoes. And I got them. So it's all good.

I changed into my Frees, had some Coke, and got on my way.  As I was leaving the start/finish area, Chad was just coming in, so I figured I had better get moving. Nutritionally, for the last loop, I basically drank some Coke at every aid station. My digestive system had lost any desire for solid food (this would continue until around nine o'clock that night), and Coke seemed to be working, so I stuck with it. The shoe change was just what I needed, although with my foot pain alleviated, I was now left to focus on the pain in my legs (from, you know, all the running). Around 20 minutes into the loop, I had officially run farther than I had ever run before, so I had this, "aw shit, here we go," kind of feeling. I decided that mentally, the best way to deal with the last loop was to live between aid stations, kind of like in boot camp, when I basically lived between meals, and it worked. By this point, I was passing a lot of runners from all three races, and the heat was starting to get rough. I just kept hydrating and continuing to move forward. I love running, but for the last hour or so of the race, all I wanted in the world was to not be running anymore. About 20 minutes from the finish, I saw some folks on horseback off to the side of the trail drinking beer, and I said to them, "God, I wish I was doing that right now," and they chuckled and said good luck. At the last aid station, I asked and found out that I was 2.8 miles from the finish. Fantastic news! I was hurting, but I definitely had that left in me. I kept moving forward, expending as little energy as possible, and lo and behold, the Finish Line!

Almost.

I didn't know about the half-mile baby loop at the end. Admittedly, this was a lapse in research on my behalf. The people at the finish line informed me about the baby loop after I thought I was done. Another occasion for which I must apologize if my urgency was mistaken for anger. I distinctly remember yelling out, "WHICH WAY DO I GO?" I did the half mile loop, which included plenty of clapping fans and wasn't that big a deal, and I finished in 7:06:02.
HERE ENDETH THE RACE

EPILOGUE:
First off, I called it an epilogue because I've been reading a lot of Michael Crichton lately, so bear with me.
Anyway, after finishing, all I wanted was sugar and water. I felt like Edgar from Men in Black, without all the malice. I hardly ever drink soda, and I downed a Coke and three Cream Sodas, and they were heavenly. The lady at the finish line had told me to let her know when I'm ready to receive my awards. After probably 20 minutes of being immobile and consuming as much sugary liquid as I could, I told her I was ready. She gave me a big wooden bear-shaped trophy (awesome), a bottle opener that's a color of my choosing (I chose green because, well, I like green), then, alas! What is this?! She reaches into a cooler and produces a growler (half gallon jug) of local beer! It was the Rooster Fish Brewery's Pale Ale, and it was, at that moment, nothing short of transcendental. I sat there at a picnic table, and eventually on the ground, on my back, hung out with Jeannine, talked to other runners/beer drinkers, and just soaked in the experience. After finishing the growler, Jeannine drove us back to Delaware ( It turns out upstate Pennsylvania is quite pretty. Who knew??), where the remainder of the evening involved Yeungling and no fewer than three Five Guys double cheeseburgers. Not a bad day.

I've been taking it easy since the race, but I plan to be back at training full bore next week. I have the Blue Ridge Relay in September (my favorite race, hands down, and I will do it every chance I get), and then I would like to take the endurance I've gained from this race and throw in a lot of speed to run a fast marathon in November at the Philadelphia Marathon. I also plan on doing this race again next year. I'll be in lab rotations next summer, but if I can get away, I would definitely like to return.

Chad, Peter, and Sean, thank you for the companionship and advice during the race. You guys are damn tough, and I wish you good luck for the fall. I'm sure you all have plenty going on.

Regarding tree roots. Bitch-ass tree roots. By the time I finished the race, I had, by my count, nine 'almost falls', one 'normal fall', and one full-on barrel roll. (Jeannine: "Sweetie, how did you get mud on your back?") Next time, they will not defeat me. OK, they probably will. Dammit.

Anyway, it was an all-in-all great experience. I would like to give me thanks to the race director and volunteers. You all are incredible, and I will definitely be back.

Cheers!
Jeff