Run It Fast®

KEYS100 Race Report: May 15th-16th 2010
by Beth McCurdy

As I sit here writing this report only 4 days later, I’m thinking about how fortunate I am that I do not have to work this week. Taking care of Grant, preparing dinner, and all the usual stuff, takes a lot of effort right now. Running 100 miles in the extreme heat affected me more than I had anticipated, both physically and mentally. But it was completely worth it in ways that I had never imagined.

Beth McCurdy

Making the decision to run a 100 mile race wasn’t all that difficult. My decision involved making a verbal commitment to my friends in Tampa, Florida on a Half Marathon race weekend in addition to posting it on facebook. I knew deep down that until I officially sign up, I could always back out. A few months went by and when I felt fairly secure about this decision, I decided to sign up. Never in my life have I ever felt so much nervous energy-even more than right before the gun went off in the Boston Marathon. I felt exhilirated, anxious, and down right scared. After all, the most I have ever run is 50 miles in cooler climate. Running a 100 mile race in the Keys in the month of May would not be easy and I wasn’t even sure that I could finish. But isn’t that I why I signed up?

I stayed focused on my training leading up to the event by completing 70 miles in a 12 hour event, plus some other ultra and marathon distances. I felt confident that my training, my crew, Stacey, Whitney, and Dave, and the mental preparation necessary for this distance, would carry me through to the finish. Of course, the heat and humidity was always the unknown factor that weighed heavily on my mind-and for good reason.

The week before the event I was less nervous than I thought I’d be. In fact, I was in an incredibly positive mood and happy. I was about to embark on the most exciting adventure of my life. I had so much support and encouragement from friends and family-they seemed just as excited about the event as I was.

After a fairly decent night of sleep, my crew and I headed to the start line at the 101 mile marker in Key Largo. The gun went off at 6 a.m. For the first several miles, I talked to Christian and Cyndi. The company helped keep me relaxed and it was nice knowing that I was not the only one on the planet who was about to run 100 miles. Those early miles were an adjustment. I was running at an incredibly slow pace for me and sweating profusely. On a cool day, this pace would feel completely different. So this was my first wake up call of what I had in store for the rest of the day.

At the first few crew stops, I just wasn’t sure what I needed. In fact, I made the mistake of telling my crew that I didn’t need them for 7 more miles. Wow, what was I thinking? I ended up getting water from another crew during that stretch and realized that I need to accept help from my crew as often as possible. So, I surrendered to them and thank goodness I did. Every 2-3 miles, my crew was there with everything that I could possibly need and came out to me so that I could keep walking. Whitney had the cup of strawberries and oranges, peanut butter sandwich, and bag of washcloths. She would squeeze the ice cold water on my head, drape washcloths over my shoulders, and encourage me to eat. Stacey had the refilled handheld water bottle, salt tabs, pain relievers, and the new bandana filled with ice to wear around my neck. Stacey would go over with me what was ahead and where they would be at the next stop. This information was extremely helpful-especially knowing when a bridge was ahead which I ended up looking forward to rather than dreading.

The first longer bridge came at about 15 miles. As I crested the hill on the bridge, all I could see was beautiful clear greenish-blue water everywhere. Even though the cars were speeding by me at 50+miles per hour, I was able to block them out and had this sensation that I was running on water. I was grinning ear to ear and thanked God that I was given this experience to run the KEYS100.

When I approached the 50 mile check-in, I realized that I ran the second 25 miles faster than the first. This was a confidence booster for sure, however, my blistered feet were beginning to concern me. I told my crew that my feet were a mess but that I will not be taking my shoes off to treat the blisters or change socks because I was fearful that it may make me sick if I see the damage. They listened to my wishes and I hoped that my feet would be able to withstand the duration of the race.

The 7 mile bridge approached soon after the 50 mile check-in and I stopped at the SUV in order to take in a significant amount of water and gatorade. I held two handheld water bottles and headed on the bridge with Stacey. Even though there was a nice breeze on the bridge, I had already gone 54 miles at this point and it was approximately 4 p.m. so the sun was strong. Having Stacey lead so that I didn’t have to focus on vehicles flying by was extremely helpful.

After the 7 mile bridge, I returned to the SUV to regroup and suddenly found myself very dizzy. I lay down on the ground and my crew covered me with ice cold washcloths. I believe that running the 7 miles without my crew cooling me down affected me more than I thought but luckily after about 10 minutes, I was back running again and felt fine.

One of the best parts of the day was when the sun started to go down and it wasn’t nearly as brutally hot. I started to finally feel some heat relief and despite my hurting feet, I was able to keep running. I started thinking that if I continue to feel this way, I may actually finish this thing by 2 a.m. But without any notice, I started to go downhill (not literally).

After the 75 mile check-in (time was a little over 15 hrs), I realized how much pain my feet were in and at that time, it seemed to be more difficult to walk than to run. I also realized that running in the dark was going to be more of a challenge than I originally thought. Being in pain, tired, not being able to see ocean, trees, or people, and having to dodge vehicles, was almost too tough to take and Stacey at that point agreed to stay with me for the remainder of the race. I thank God for Stacey.

Unfortunately, I had another “issue” to deal with soon after the 75 mile mark which was nausea and vomiting. I had to accept the fact that I would not be able to eat or drink gatorade anymore. I knew this would be tough but I was still able to process water. My kidneys were still functioning properly and I was able to keep moving forward so with Stacey’s guidance, this is what I did. She encouraged me to run if I could, but the majority of the time, I could only last 5 minutes or less without needing to walk.

With 6 miles left to go, I could no longer run. I had no energy left and my feet were in too much pain. At one point, I had a strong desire to close my eyes. I felt extremely tired and thought that it might feel good to close my eyes. So, Stacey and I walked arm in arm while I took a little “walking nap”. I did this again with Whitney even closer to the finish.

I pictured in my mind that the finish would be the finish of a lifetime. Even if I’d been walking leading up to the finish, I’d make myself run with my crew by my side and be overwhelmed with emotion. Well, I did finish with my crew by my side but I was in such a fog that I really didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t able to run through the finish because my feet were beyond painful and my thoughts revolved around sitting down and taking my shoes off. My finish time was 22:52. 9th overall, 3rd female, 30 finishers total out of 70 starters.

Things that I did not expect

1)The support and love from my family and friends was unbelievable. I know that people love me but I guess running 100 miles reminded me of this.

2)That my feet would get so damaged with swelling and blisters. I thought I might have a few lost toe nails but nothing close to this.

3)That my crew would be 100% perfect. I knew that they were going to be great but they were impeccable. The selflessness of Whitney, Dave, and Stacey was incredible and believe me, they were tired, too!

4)That I would have lost so much weight. I’ve lost weight due to dehydration before from events but I hardly recognized myself afterwards. LOL.

5)That I would feel this much satisfaction out of accomplishing my goal of finishing my first 100 mile foot race.

Thank you!
Mom and Dad and the rest of the family for being so supportive
My running club buddies
My GUTS friends
My neighbors, childhood friends, and facebook friends
And to Whitney, Dave, and Stacey, the best crew ever.
XXOO

– Beth McCurdy

2011 Ridge Runner Marathon Race Report – (Josh Hite)

I saw Gary hitting the trail.  Actually, I saw the Jeep Cherokee first.  Hazard lights gave it away.  I had been tracking both for some fourteen miles.  The vehicle followed the course; Gary followed the vehicle; I followed Gary.  Now both were 0.42 miles ahead according to my watch’s calculations.  I passed the mile marker at eighteen right after he passed me going the other way.  The elapsed lap time said 3:10 when I passed his mark.  Three minutes ten second to catch the leader in the last eight miles.  Yeap, it was where I wanted to be after thinking about the various possibilities over the past hour and a half.

I dropped off the kids with my parents in Virginia the day before.  My wife stayed at home this trip to enjoy a night without either me or our sons.  My cohort, Dallas (Smith), and I continued on into West Virginia after unloading the kids.  The plan to have a quick trip that included rough marathon appealed to both of us.  At least it appealed to me, and he was kind enough to accompany me and participate as well.  I knew he had a shot at a top ten finish in this race.  Not too shabby for a seventy year old, but our last marathon trip together was to Boston where he placed second in his age group.  His time would have won six of the last eight Boston’s; it just happened that 2011 was one of the two.

Eight hours sitting and driving are not usually the best way to spend the day before a marathon, but we both had done it before.  Stopping occasionally had left us getting to Parkersburg, WV and our hotel at 7:15.  The meal at a local Italian joint called Johnny Carino’s was substantial.  A Peroni beer, antipasto salad, and the tour of Italy featuring ziti, lasagna, and fettuccini was almost too much.  I usually try to stay away from red sauce before a race.  Maybe I was sabotaging my own chances.  I didn’t care because earlier I had received bittersweet news that a friend was offered a job – a job to which I too had applied.  I was happy for her, but I didn’t want to hear this before a marathon.  The last thing I needed was to be fretting over lost chances prior to running my race.  At least my company helped put my mind at ease.  Dallas’s wisdom has a knack for that.

I appreciated the little rest I had the night before, but I hate waking to an alarm clock.  It was one of those necessary evils of a race – like port a poties.

Not many races allow you to register the day of the marathon.  This one does.  The previous two times I ran this race, I registered the day before.  Not this time.  We pulled in to register for the race that morning and immediately I saw Gary Krugger getting in his car.  Dallas and I both ran with Gary last August for the first time when he drove from Erie, Pennsylvania to race with us and eleven other people in 90+ degree heat.  Since then, I ran Knoxville with Gary (where he helped me up when I fell on the course), and I ran Boston with him (where I tried to get him to a personal best, but I blew up and he ran on to finish strong).  Gary is one of the few who runs more marathons than me, some 130+ with seventeen sub 3’s this year alone. Gary was there in West Virginia’s North Bend State Park to run a sub 3. West Virginia was one of the few fifty states Gary has not run under three hours.

The turnaround was the first time I saw Gary since around mile eight.  I told him that I didn’t know if I could help him with a sub 3 on this course as we walked to the start line together just two hours earlier.  This course was not made to be fast.  The first mile is synonymous with the first hill, which Gary and I ran side by side.  Downhills occur for a few miles and then the course climbed like my heart rate until runners hit a town (and the exposed sun) around mile twelve.  Three miles on a busier road with no shade lead to a mile and a half steep climb.  The flat shaded section of the rail trail at eighteen to twenty four goes through three tunnels.  A climb from twenty four to twenty five is followed by a scorching downhill to the finish.

After I ran up the first hill, I noticed that Gary was too fast on the downhills for me.  I had to save myself if I were to have a good race.  His lead started growing at mile four.  Because of a few stops when “nature called,” he had about a minute and a half at mile seven.  I didn’t see him after the town at the half way mark.  His lead had to be four minutes, but I still hit the half way around 1:30 and change.  My legs felt use for the first time climbing from fifteen to sixteen.

I wanted to save my legs to seventeen.  I changed it to eighteen after I had lost sight of Gary.  Now I spotted him again, and it was time for my legs to take over.  He spoke from across the path, but I couldn’t understand what he said.  The Jeep and the wind drowned my hearing.  I wanted to hold back a little longer – just enough to get over the bridge and see if anyone was behind me.  There wasn’t.  It was between Gary and me.

I wished that I had worn my Montrail Rogue Racers.  This was just the type of trail they would crush.  Too much road for the shoe I decided.  I want to save those for the trails.  I picked up my pace from running a 6:50ish on the flats to a 6:35 pace.  The heat was getting to me.  I pushed forward and passed early starters.  Then I spotted the blinking lights of the Jeep far ahead.  The tunnels lay just ahead.

As I went into the first tunnel, I remembered how little sunlight penetrated.  I had remembered the hills, the sun, and the turnaround.  Somehow I forgot the darkness in the tunnels.  Run like on the trails.  Set the foot down lightly and lock the ankle into place.  It worked.  I powered through the first tunnel and was met with a surprise.  Gary’s ponytail caught my attention.  It waved just thirty seconds ahead of me.  I was running a 6:30 pace.  He must have slowed to a 7:30.

If the reader wants solid advice or some kind of secret to racing a marathon, then pay attention.  If there is a downhill anywhere from 16-20 followed by a sustained flat, then that is where people will break.  It delays “the wall” because of the downhill.  The runner hits the flat and starts working harder.  Everyone knows about “the wall” and expects it to occur.  When going downhill, you feel good.  Most of the time when running on a flat section you feel good, but after running downhill, “the wall” is condensed and magnified. Gary and I used the same strategy in Knoxville to dust two guys sticking with us.  Today it bit Gary.

I approached quickly, and he looked back muttering, “I have been waiting on you.”  I couldn’t help him. His race was over, and if I talked or slowed, my race would be over too.  He knew that he was going to have to come back to West Virginia to get his Sub three.  I sped ahead to mile twenty two, two miles until the last hill.

6:30 pace held true until I hit the hill.  I craved water, but only Gatorade was at the stations.  It could have been Crisco – I wasn’t having any.  My stomach may not have handled it.  This was on my mind but not as much as the upcoming hill was.  I was greeted by a grandmother and a young girl taking pictures when I hit mile marker twenty four.  Their encouragement was appreciated, but the appreciation did not relieve the pain expressed on my face.  I noticed my watch display 2:44:??  What?  That is a 6:52 pace, but the hill was ahead.  I started my mantra, “feet on the ground.”  The more my feet hit the ground, the faster I covered the ground.  I thought I was in Jackson County running up the hills with Dallas.  If there were anyone who had trained to run up these hills, it was us.  Breaking three hours would be tough though.

I could see the top.  The last water station awaited me.  I took two waters: one spilling on my head and the other splashing in my face and mouth.  Mile twenty five was only twenty feet later.  8:10 for the hill, but more importantly my watch showed 2:52:28.  I knew 6:40 pace is 1:20 for the last two tenths of a mile.  That was eight minutes, too much time.  6:00 flat is 7:12 for the final 1.2 miles.  I had a downhill, but I knew it needed to be around 6:00 flat.  The feet hit the ground nonstop.  Leaning forward and using the tangents helped me push out a 6:13 mile.  1:19 across the bridge and around two turns to break three hours: difficult for sure.  The bridge had a van coming out.  Did it see me? I had to be a blur.  It moved right and let me continue my path.  The finish clock ticked 2:59:3x through the leaves.  My arms pumped, and I leaned forward to see 59:40.  I ran harder and the clocked seemed to tick faster.  It seems that time would have slowed, but it sped ahead.  59:52.  I stopped looking and put my eyes on the finish shoot.  59:56.  How could the seconds pass so quickly?  I crossed the line and hit my watch – 2:59:58.  This took the cake for the hardest I worked for a sub three.

Gary came through about eight minutes later.  I handed him the ice bag someone gave me and apologized for not chatting when I saw him last.  He gathered his facilities, and we walked back to the top of the hill towards the car.  Cheering people (ten milers mainly) to the finish as we went against the flow, we noticed third place.  He was some thirty minutes back.  We continued up the hill hoping to see Dallas, and there he was.  Fourth!  Seventy and fourth!  It doesn’t matter your age when you are fourth.  You will win whatever age group.  He just happened to be in the last age group.  Not too bad for not training for a marathon, but we have been running those hills in Jackson County.

– Josh Hite

This creative and unique finisher’s medal is from the 2011 Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati, Ohio that took place on May 1, 2011.

It was the first two-sided medal that I have received for finishing a race.  The front had a ‘flying pig’ with the phrase “I HIGHTAILED IT,” and the back of the medal had the backside of a ‘flying pig’ with the phrase “I MADE A RUN FOR IT” with the skyline of Cincy in the background.

The decorative ribbon (see photo below) completed this first class medal. The ribbon was thick, with flying piggies, and the name of the race on it.

Flying Pig Marathon Website

Nanny Goat 100 Mile  Ultra Marathon Race Report (May 28-29, 2011)
My 1st 100 miler, 1 loop at a time

Nanny Goat is a race that offers to run 12 hours, 24 hours or 100 miles. The course: a one mile loop on a horse ranch. You actually run through the horse stables each mile and swipe your timing card attached to your wrist. I picked this race because I thought it would be a good way to find out if I am even cut out for running all day and all night. Passing by your own aid station every mile seemed doable.

Last year, I attempted Nanny Goat and dropped at 69 miles, 20 hours due to very bad blister feet. Consensus was the shoes caused the problem. I ditched those Asics trail shoes and got Inov-8 Roclite 295s I’ve run in for a year and no blisters. This year I also summoned a crew of 6 and told them their goal was to keep me out of the chair. I even questioned the times I had to use the bathroom whether or not I was looking for an excuse to sit down. Yes, we had portable pots at this race. I had 28 hours to finish 100 miles and I assumed that’s what it would take me. Within first few hours of running I kept saying I was running too fast as I was way ahead of schedule but I let happen and banked the miles.

I trained for 5 months with a women training for Western States 100 this month. We ran at least one of our weekend days together. Some of my training runs were harder than any ultra race I’ve done and I did use a couple 50ks and a marathon as training. Most of my weekend long runs were hilly trails but knowing my race was going to be flat, I did run a few long flat road runs.

The temps were nice and peaked at high 70’s, not too cold at night. I used the cooling system I learned while crewing at Badwater. Cold wet bandana on neck, ice under hat, and ice cold drink every mile until 6 p.m. Two days before the race I got a sore throat and lost my voice. Within about 3 hours of running, I was having difficulty eating, even gels. I had the gag factor and felt nauseated after everything I swallowed. I’m usually a pig at a race and can eat anything any time. I didn’t even want to drink my Hammer electrolytes. Another runner suggested I stick to fruit and water. I could get half a banana down reluctantly, lots of fresh oranges from the orange trees on the course, water and a salt pill every hour. Even though I gagged, spit, and groaned through the night I did not let it slow me down. I remember the first time I said I was sleepy and it was already midnight. This made me so happy I woke up a bit. Throughout the night, I sipped soda, cold coffee with creamer and chewed caffeine gum two times. Not a lot of calories in and not many potty breaks. I wasn’t bloated so we weren’t concerned.

After about 27 miles, I did get hot spots and quickly applied bandaids. Two on each foot in exact same places appeared at different times. I changed my socks often too. I brought quite a few pairs of thin socks thinking due to heat I would like these best. Thin socks on a mostly flat hot race did not work for me. I loved my thicker socks. The NG course offers various textures such as sandy, bumpy grass (the worst), dirt, and black top.

Sunrise is a magical time during this distance. We even had a rooster to let us know.  I couldn’t stop looking up at the blue sky, white puffy clouds and then that one black cloud. It rained lightly for less than an hour. I did have different pacers with me all through the night. A crew/pacer arrived in the morning and two of her suggestions gave me new pep. First was applesauce. Man, never did cold applesauce taste so good. With 15 miles left, she asked if I listened to music while running and I said, “no.” She then shared how she doesn’t either but used music in her 100 mile race and it helped. We grabbed my ipod that I did bring just in case. Who knew?! Listening to music made me forget any discomfort. I was so excited to be almost done and finishing an hour and a half faster than expected. I let it rip. I was singing and dancing my way to the finish, holding back the tears. I had a lot of ultra running buddies at this race that would stand up and cheer for me every time I came through the barn. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to finish and finish strong passing a couple runners in the end.

At 26:17, I accepted my buckle and cried while my friends snapped photos. I had no leg pain during the whole race but as soon as I stopped, some muscles stiffened in areas all new to me. Oh, and my cold came rushing in full force. Legs and feet are golden but my cold is kicking my butt.

That’s the race report about me. A whole other race report can be written about the Nanny Goat race itself. The horse ranch, the race director, the other runners all make for a family event with lots of quirky endurance run nuts and big smiles. Endorphin Dude changed capes throughout 24 hours and Ed Ettinghausen memorized everyone’s name, giving every runner a shout-out every time he passed you. I love my ultra family. My first buckle is baby blue with a goat on it…I’ll take that!

–Kista Cook

Kista’s Website & Race Medal Racks for Purchase

Nanny Goat 100 Mile Ultra Marathon Race Website

The Chicago Sun-Times is reporting that a 22-year old man died while running the 13.1 Chicago Half Marathon on Saturday in Chicago.

The weather reached the mid 80’s towards the end. Temperatures for the race started at 79 and rose to around 86.  The race provided over 10 water stations along the course.

The race started under a yellow flag ‘be cautious, drink water, and pace yourself,’ before turning to a red flag ‘where clocks were turned off,’ before the race was black flagged ‘race cancelled.’

11 runners were taken to local hospitals due to heat related problems.

The Chicago Marathon faced similar issues a couple of years back when that race was also black flagged. Organizers for that race where ill-prepared and didn’t provide nearly enough water for racers that day.

Our condolences go out to the friends and family of the runner!

Royal sister-in-law Pippa Middleton, the younger sister of Kate ‘Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge’ Middleton’s, finished the GE Blenheim Triathlon in Woodstock, England earlier today.  She was part of a triathlon relay team. Pippa did the 5K run at the end of the triathlon according to the Mirror.

Captured in the warm sun Pippa finished the 5km run leg in a respectable 25:30. Her team, called SJP, finished the full triathlon – a gruelling 750m swim, 20km bike ride and then 5km run – in 1:27:32.

The English socialite/party planner/partier definitely shows the USA version, Paris Hilton, that you can still be fit, athletic, and inspire a nation even when you put the Patrón down.  The closest Hilton or Kim Kardashian come to being athletic is in their choice of professional athletes they date.

This was NOT Pippa’s first triathlon.  She has completed one before.  Sporty-Royal Spice finished the Blenheim full triathlon in 2009 with a time of 1:26:01 according to official race results.

Pippa Middleton Rocks Highland Cross 50 Mile Duathlon

[image: Hollyscoop]

Saltines, Ginger Ale, & an Indomitable Will
(Finishing the 2011 Umstead 100 Mile Ultra Marathon)

Barely moving my legs, I think about my breathing and how labored it is. At times, I’m preoccupied with inhaling and exhaling. It’s so loud and disturbed sounding. I wonder why I’m breathing like this and whether or not it’s helpful. I’m also curious as to what my pacer Kelley, is thinking. For about two seconds, I’m slightly embarrassed by my noisiness. By the third second, I could care less what she thinks or what anyone else thinks.

I ask myself, “Do I really need to be breathing this heavily?” So, I stop breathing heavily and settle down by focusing on each step. I’m amazed by how ponderous each step feels and how variable my rhythm is at this point. I know I’ve become slow, but the reality is it’s so slow that I’d rather not know my pace. Deliberately focusing on my steps causes my feet to hurt even more, so I decide that it might help if I resume the heavy breathing again.

When walking uphill, I’m taken aback by the strong pull in my neck and upper shoulders. I’m recalling that only a mere 10 miles ago, my neck wasn’t even bothering me at all. The pain is not unbearable but it forces me to stop and self-message on several occasions. At one point, I’m wishing that I didn’t have so many layers of clothing on so that I could really penetrate into the muscles to loosen them up. My mind wanders back to the car ride to Raleigh when I remember thinking that I really hope that this tight neck won’t be a problem in my event tomorrow. Being the overly confident and optimistic person that I can be at times, I shrugged it off, so to speak. I tell myself that by the morning, the neck will be fine. The neck will be fine.

At the final aid station before the finish, I’m wondering how in the world I’m going to get up the next climb. Even early on in the race, this hill is difficult to walk. I’m depleted and need to do something to feel better. I ask my pacer, Kelley, if she could please get me some crackers and ginger ale at this aid station. I’m really thinking that a couple of crackers will help me get up that next climb. I sit in the chair and Kelley hands me Mountain Dew and some saltine crackers. I’m finding it very challenging to place the crackers in my mouth. They are sticking to my lips and mouth so I decide that it’s critical to swallow Mountain Dew and eat the cracker simultaneously. This sort of works.

I remember the aid station volunteer chatting me up about KEYS100. He’s an ultra runner and was graciously volunteering the night shift at this aid station. I wanted to chat with him. I wanted to smile and be friendly. But swallowing crackers and getting up that hill were the only things on my mind. I had to let him know in a courteous and desperate sort of way, that talking to him was not an option at this point. I’m on mile 94.5. I have 5.5 miles left.

Every single bit of every part of me is going to be used up to get through the next 5.5 miles. I know that I can do this. I don’t question as to whether or not I can finish. My brain and body have to go beyond what they want to do. I have no choice but to finish and I ask God for him to continue to keep me strong. Not finishing the event was never an option in my mind. I had everything I needed: My pacer who has taken care of me from 50 miles on, two crackers and some Mountain Dew in my stomach, and just 5.5 miles left. 5.5 miles to the finish line of the Umstead 100 Endurance Run.

Getting up from that chair was not that difficult. I knew that the longer that I sit in the chair, the longer I’m out in the cold dark and the farther away I am from the finish line. On any other day of my life, even when I’m having a really bad running day, 5.5 miles would be fairly effortless. On this day, 5.5 miles is an infliction of pain on my body and I’m not looking forward to it.

Getting up the series of climbs that I was so concerned about was arduous, to say the least. My neck and shoulders were throbbing and plodding uphill felt like my quads were being crushed with every step. Even though I looked forward to the downhill because I could actually run, I needed to tiptoe and blurt out with every step, “Ouch, Ouch, Ouch…”. My feet were sore and tired. If they could talk, they would be telling me to sit my butt down and enough already.

Even though the temperature was around forty degrees, if felt like below zero. I already had on a tank top in addition to three long sleeve layers at this point, however, I was shivering uncontrollably. Kelley had a green hooded coat and generously gave it to me. I zipped it all the way up and pulled the hood over my head. Running with a heavy headlamp and hood was confining but getting my body warmer was a higher priority. Moreover, I discovered that picking up the pace would help warm the body so I forced to do this at times when we were on flatter sections of the course.

With just a few miles left, I kept asking Kelley if were getting closer. Even though this was my eighth time running this loop, I still could not recall how much longer we had until the finish line. Knowing that we were getting closer, I attempted to run rather than walk. If I only walk, it will take longer to get there. I needed to make myself run.

Everyone seeks some form of comfort upon finishing an extreme endurance effort such as this-perhaps gatorade, food, a bathroom, or a clothing change. I asked Kelley if she could please send me straight to the lodge by the fire upon finishing. I need to get warm. She reassured me that she would take care of me and not to worry. Her presence at this point put my mind to ease and the notion of being out on the course alone was a daunting one.

Running on the half mile rocky section to the finish was painful yet exhilerating. I kept asking Kelley, “Am I really finishing?, Are we really there?” Kelley responded with a resounding, “Yes! I’m so proud of you!”. On this final stretch, she screamed “Woohoo!!” to volunteers, crews, and other runners, letting everyone know that I am finishing 100 miles. As I crossed the finish line, I was filled with a variety of emotions. I looked at my watch and noticed that I finished in twenty hours and thirty-eight minutes. I felt overjoyed, wipped out, accomplished, thankful for Kelley, borderline hypothermic, and a a little delirious. I was overwhelmed yet quite calm and in need of warmth. I achieved what I set out to do and never gave up. I finished my second 100 mile foot race.

–Beth McCurdy
Umstead 100 Mile Ultra Marathon (2011)

2011 Umstead 100 Mile Ultra Marathon Race Results

Scenic City Trail Marathon (May 20, 2011)

Mid May 2009 I watched the video over and over.  It was what I wanted – a trail marathon that was nearby.  Tired of driving to Pennsylvania and just west of Little Rock, I wanted a fast, trail marathon that was still a trail.  Rails to trails would not satiate my craving.  I grew up on trails.  I used to drive from my house in Valley Forge to Hampton.  There I could hit the AT in just about three miles.  Later I was able to drive fifteen minutes to get lost on the trails of the Big South Fork.  Now, it was time to return to my roots.  The Scenic City Trail Marathon, where a new state record could easily be accomplished (or so they said), was just a few days out.  I sat in my office chair and watched the five minute video (more than once).

A few days before eyeing this marathon my second son was born.  A few days before that, I couldn’t run.  The sciatic nerve stopped me in my tracks.  There were several days of walking without any running.  Now, not just tackling this trail marathon but placing in the trail marathon became a new goal.

That was all two years ago.  I hurt that marathon.  I felt the injury, but I ran well enough to place second.  The next year I wanted to go sub three and take a new state record for a trail marathon.  Dane and Nick had different ideas.  Nick beat me by almost three minutes, and Dane beat me by more than a decade, or so it felt.  When I came out of the woods, I saw the clock tick from 2:59:59 to 3:00:00.  Still good enough for third.

2011 would be another strike at sub three on the Scenic City Trail Marathon course.  I didn’t even think about first place; Josh Wheeler was in the race.  He beat me daily on the stage race.  When I crushed the first half of the Lookout Mountain 50 miler (not knowing what I was doing), he was the only one in front of me.  Boy Wonder excelled at the trails.  He is an amazing Rock/Creek teammate, and I didn’t even think about pulling an upset over him.  Then I was given bib 1.  He was bib 4.  Feb Boswell, a friend from Memphis, with whom I had raced several times, was bib 2.  With the first few bibs in seeded order, this meant I had a target on my back.  A thirty minute delay of the start helped others see my displayed target.  All this was working on me mentally.  What little mental stability I had was disappearing.

We started with a helicopter overhead.  The first part of the course had been changed, but we bulleted out.  Everyone must have wanted to make up the thirty minute delay.  I ran a sub 6:00 pace with a dozen people in front of me.  Wheeler was out there.   My friend and teammate Owen Bradley led around the first corner.  Two weeks earlier I ran a mile with him at the Strolling Jim.  He chatted leisurely at me while I tried to stay with him from mile 29-30 of the race.  He ran ten more miles than I did at that time, and I thought I was going to die trying to stay with him at that pace.  This time, I didn’t see him again until when I finished.  He explained what I saw slightly after the start of the race: everyone in front of Feb and I ran into the woods too early.  Wheeler and two others came back out confused and right in front of us.  They were directed to turn (as the old course did), but it was not the new course.  The hit trails a half mile too early.  Some may have lost thirty seconds with the wrong turn.  Teammate Matt Sims came up beside Feb and I in the first mile to help assure me that I was going the right way.  Feb and I hit the trails together, where we were supposed to hit them.

The first two miles clicked on my watch and were verified by a sign some ten feet later.  Just under thirteen minutes meant we were too fast.  6:52 gets you through if you are trying to break three.  6:30 is too fast.  We both said we should slow down.  After all, we decided, Wheeler was the only marathoner in front of us.  We hit the five mile mark at 32:40.  We slowed by :03 per mile – not enough.  Feb and I switched front and back and pushed on.  My watch was about 5% off on the measurement.  Feb said his was off by almost 15%.  Cursed technology!!!  By the time we hit ten miles, his was off by nearly 20% and mine was off by 8%.  63:20 for ten miles means that you have been running a 6:20 pace (on trails!).  6:20 pace translates to a 2:47 marathon.  We both realized that if we did not slow down, we would be slowing down in a non-voluntary fashion.  We would blow up.  I just wanted to hang on until the top of the hill at eighteen.  I could take the rest if this were the case.  We hit the twelve mile mark at 1:17.  Last year, I slowed to ask how far back I was.  This year I asked for water.  Dawson Wheeler poured into my small flask and questioned what I was doing with such a small water bottle.  My only answer was that I was trying to catch his son.  With a smirk, he sent me on my way with a full flask.  The water stop at fifteen met me with the doubts of hitting the top of the next hill with all me energy.  I was starting to blow up.

Feb pulled away.  He was out of sight by the time I hit the base of the hill.  The mental dagger was only dulled with the thought that I was still third.  I gave the hill and the next a strong showing.  I was starting to lap people.  I came on Angela Ivory first.  Her smile seems to always make my pain go away.  It did this time too, just temporarily.  At twenty-two a lady told me I could catch the guy ahead of me if I push it.  I thought Feb must have been fading.  She then said, “You’re in fourth!!!”  How could this be?  Fourth?  She had to be mistaken.  Only Wheeler was fast enough to be in front of Feb and me for the first blazing half.  I knew that she was confused.  Then I started thinking.  I started doubting.  I was souring.  It could have been the heat.  My Patagonia shirt had never been so wet.  Not even in the washing machine could it be this drenched.  It was not the heat, it was fatigue.  Bumping my mileage by almost thirty miles per week starting in May could be a downfall.  My legs were not tired though.  My heart was.  The race did not click mentally anymore.  By the time I hit the hill at twenty two and two ladies told me there was a snake on the trail, I was walking in front of people.  The news of being in fourth place had been the proverbial straw.  My back broke.

Encouragement at 22.1 water stop helped me muster some “running” legs.  I stumbled along trying to catch Feb.  I saw him on a ridge ahead of me.  Feb was weak, but I could tell he had more strength than me at this time.  He had put in a good run.  When I exited the woods, I looked for him crossing the finish line.  It had happened a few minutes before that.  He was third.  I was fourth.  My family greeted me after the finish.  I did not expect their presence but welcomed it.

I spent the next few hours shaking hands and cheering people to the finish.  The lesson from this race took a while to come to me.  The next day I ran twenty in order to try to prepare for the stage race.  I guess that I can use the mileage, but I was a little disappointed with my run.  What did not disappoint me were the people and the race itself.  My running friends are always a blessing.  I have been lucky that I have been able to experience that blessing towards the end of May for the past three years.  I tell people that I will be back.  The first year I was second.  The second year I was third.  The third year I was fourth.  I must come back and get fifth next year. …maybe a sub three too.

– Josh Hite

2011 Scenic City Trail Marathon Finisher’s Medal

We sit on Madrid’s Plaza Mayor drinking beer and eating blood sausage, Albino and I.

My overnight flight into Madrid arrived this Saturday morning. Albino drove down to meet me from his home in Burgos, a city in the mountains 150 miles north of here. After walking around Madrid a bit, we’ve landed here. It is a little chilly but pleasantly sunny this February afternoon.

We sit at a table outside, the busy plaza spread before us.

Sharing our table are Belen and Yeya, two young women Albino called a few minutes ago. They are his age, which is half my age. I’m too sleepy to care about that, having missed a night’s sleep on the plane. We order another round of beer, another plate of tapas. Belen puffs Marlboros, Ducados for Yeya. The marathoners abstain.

You could argue that Albino and I ought to not be here. We are scheduled to run the Barcelona Marathon. We should be resting, saving our energy for the big show. But then that’s not until next weekend. Meanwhile, we have business here.

Read the full story by Dallas Smith by clicking HERE

Here is the impressive and massive finisher’s bling from the 2011 Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon that took place in Louisville, Kentucky on April 30, 2011.

The overall winner was Peter Kemboi (2:24:59) and the female winner was Veronika Lopatina (2:41:24).

Photos of the Kentucky Derby Festival Finisher’s Medal

Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon & Mini Marathon Website